The untamed, p.17
The Untamed, page 17
“It makes sense now why Dad is making me…” Ryder trails off, not bothering to finish his sentence. He snatches his hand back as though my shoulder is drenched in poison. “Fuck.”
Ronan’s hand is cold in mine. Stiff and unmoving. His head is bowed, eyes squeezed shut. He releases my hand and shifts slightly away from me.
“It’s all lies, obviously,” I say shakily, hating the sudden loneliness hollowing out my chest. “We can’t believe what they say.”
Emotion clogs my throat when neither of my brothers agrees with me.
Ryder begins pacing the porch, fingers tugging at his dark hair. He’s growing it out at the moment, so it’s thick enough to grab onto. I like it best when he buzzes it. The prickly hair feels good on my fingertips.
I give my head a quick shake to clear away those thoughts. Thinking about my hands on my brother’s head after what Wild and Mya said sends a shiver down my spine. Hugging my arms to me, desperately needing warmth on my chilled body, I look away from him, this time at Ronan.
Ronan slowly makes it over to the steps and sits down. His shoulders hunch forward as he hugs his knees to his chest. The air is thick with tension—each of us mentally battling the accusation Wild claimed and Mya agreed with.
It’s not true.
They’re both terrible liars who get off on tormenting us, especially me.
I certainly don’t believe them.
My brothers, however, have taken the news hard. Ryder stalks back and forth with the agitation of a crazed mountain lion—half starved, half mad from disease. His shoulders are taut and the muscles in his neck keep flexing as though he’s clenching his teeth. Ronan, on the other hand, is a granite statue of despair. He doesn’t move or make a sound.
“We can’t believe their lies,” I say softly, hoping just the two of them will hear. I’m not about to let Wild or Mya, who might be lurking nearby, listen to our private conversation.
Neither brother says anything. Anger prickles through me, lighting up every nerve ending. I’m annoyed that these two are allowing Wild to screw with their heads. When Ryder stalks past me again on his never-ending pacing quest, I seize his bicep with my hand.
His blue eyes are dark and intense as they bore into me. The heat of his stare ignites a small fire deep in my core. Warmth settles there and also ripples its way through my body. My face grows hot under his fiery scrutiny.
“Don’t be naive, Rae.”
After spitting out those harsh words, he tugs his arm from my hold and then walks over to where Ronan is sitting. He takes a seat beside him close enough the sides of their bodies touch.
Jealousy snares me in its trap and I practically hiss with fury. The reminder of what Ronan told me they did together explodes inside me. I want to shove them apart and sit right between them. Ronan’s body leans toward Ryder’s, closing the gap completely. He slumps against our brother as though he has the power to make everything better. To my absolute horror, Ryder relaxes and then wraps an arm around Ronan.
No.
Tears burn at my eyes and I have to blink furiously to keep them at bay. I want to yell at them and call them awful names, but I know that’ll push them even closer together, squeezing me out completely. With a ragged sigh, drowning with emotion, I walk over to the steps and sit down on Ryder’s other side. Mirroring Ronan, I lean against Ryder.
If he rejects me now, after everything, I’ll—
My mind calms when Ryder shifts to put an arm around me also. It does wonders to soothe my scattered, heartbroken thoughts. I edge closer to Ryder, inhaling his masculine scent with a hint of liquor. His large palm settles on my hip and he strokes his thumb over me so tenderly I almost cry. Again.
“Destiny is perfect,” I murmur, voice strained and sad. “She is.”
This time, my brothers speak. In unison. “She is.”
I let out a ragged sigh of relief. A hot tear rolls down my cheek and clings to my jaw. Swallowing hard, I hold back a sniffle so they don’t hear my despair.
And that’s what this is.
Despair.
Confusion.
Betrayal.
I may not believe Wild or Mya, but the seed of doubt has been planted. It’s festering and growing, starting with my two brothers. Because I care deeply about them and are attuned to their feelings, I’m not immune. It’s getting to me too.
Ronan takes my hand again. It’s still cold as he threads his fingers with mine and settles it on Ryder’s warm thigh. Ryder’s palm slides up my back and then he’s gently stroking my hair. I’m confused by the gesture until I realize I’m sniffling despite my efforts not to.
He’s comforting me.
This has my chest tightening and more tears forming. It takes a monumental effort to keep the sob lodged in my throat. Ronan makes a sound that’s pained. We’re hurting. We’re all three hurting, once again, from these outsiders.
Ryder’s hand strokes through my hair and then he palms my back, rubbing me in large circles. He’s never been one to comfort us. That’s always been Ronan. Seeing this side of Ryder softens hard places deep inside my heart. I wish everyone were gone so the three of us could cuddle in Ryder’s bed and sleep just like this, snuggled against one another.
As Ryder’s fingers curl around my ribs under my arms, I suck in a sharp breath. His touch feels intimate now. Forbidden. I bite my lip in anticipation, letting my thoughts run wild. Achingly slow, he inches his hand upward, closer to my armpit. When his fingertips brush against the side of my breast, a whining sound rattles from my throat.
Ryder is touching my breast.
Not the whole thing. Just a gentle graze of his fingers. But still a purposeful touch.
I’m about to twist my body to give him further access when footsteps thud through the cabin and then the door opens. The fear of facing more ridicule from Wild has me jolting out of both Ronan’s and Ryder’s holds, making me stagger down the steps and onto the grass.
I don’t say a word to any of them, choosing to dart next door as quickly as possible. I sneak into the cabin and find Sadie already fast asleep on a sleeping bag on the floor. Destiny’s soft breathing can be heard from the bed. Mage is curled up next to her, his little wolf head poking out from under the covers. I quickly change out of my clothes and into my pajamas before sliding into bed next to my sister.
How dare anyone suggest there’s something wrong with her?
There’s not.
And screw Jace and CJ for talking shit about my sister. Whatever friendship I thought I had with them is over. I’m Team Ryder. The trespassers need to go. Wild can go right along with them for all I care.
I hug her close to me and inhale her sweet scent. I’ll protect her from the words of others. I’ll protect her from everyone.
* * *
* * *
Everything is all fucked-up.
Yes, I’m annoyed at Wild for stating his bullshit lies, but I’m more bothered by how Ryder’s been acting. He hasn’t smiled or laughed since he spoke to Dad the night after our…tent rendezvous. Things only worsened when he caught Raegan hanging out with the enemy. Wild and Mya didn’t help when they stirred up their shit.
I just want everything to go back to normal.
I want them to leave. All of them.
I just want it to be me, Raegan, and Ryder again. Sneaking out to swim in the creek, hunting, fishing, reading, hanging out. Just us.
Ryder’s been missing since early this morning when Rowdy came for him. My guess is they went hunting. Since I need a minute to myself and my thoughts, I choose to help the littles and Mom gather eggs in the chicken coup.
The morning sun hits Mom’s golden hair and makes it shimmer. Her smile is wide as she squats down beside Kota and Declan with Dawson sleeping in the baby carrier on her back. She’s really beautiful. And young. So young compared to our father.
Anxiety sours my gut. What if what Wild claimed is true? What if Mom really is Dad’s daughter? Bile creeps up my throat. We’d all be at risk for birth defects. Maybe that’s why I’m attracted to men when I’m supposed to want a woman.
If I were Raegan or even Ryder, I’d have the balls to come out and ask Mom. Right now when she’s caught off guard and doesn’t have a chance to make anything up. I could discover the truth with one bold question.
And yet, I bite my tongue.
Knowledge isn’t always power. Knowledge can be pain. It can maim and destroy. In the case of this accusation that she’d marry her own father and have children with him, I realize I don’t want to know. I’m okay with being blissfully ignorant.
“Everything okay, Ro?” Mom asks, her lips tugging into a concerned frown. “You’re looking a little sad lately. I’m worried about you.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. I am a little sad lately, but I can’t tell her. I refuse to. This family already feels as though it’s brittle and my problems might be what completely shatters us. Not happening. Ever.
“All good, Mom,” I lie, grinning brightly at her.
She scrutinizes me, eyes skimming all over my face as though she can see right inside my head. I keep the too-wide grin stretched over my face, though it begins to shake slightly. I think I might have her fooled…
“Ronan, baby,” she begins with a sigh. “Depression runs in our family.” Her features shutter at a past memory that momentarily holds her hostage. “Promise me you’ll talk to me before you let whatever’s bothering you completely consume you.”
“Promise.” My forced smile falters, so I look away before she can see it. “I’ll run these up to the big house.”
She purses her lips together, studying me for a beat, and then nods, handing me the basket she and the little ones have been filling with eggs. I grab my own basket and hurry out of the coup before she’s able to dig any deeper. In my haste, I nearly railroad over my brother.
Ryder side-steps me and raises his arm holding his rifle, eyes wide as he assesses me.
“Sorry,” I grumble. “I just had to get out of there.”
His gaze travels past me to where Mom can be seen in the coup. I watch as his features harden into stone. The last thing I need right now is Ryder confronting Mom about what Wild said.
“Here,” I say, thrusting one of the baskets at him. “I think we need to talk.”
Ryder shoulders his rifle before taking the basket. The angry, determined expression on his face has faded into something more resigned. I don’t like either of those looks. I want my happy, smiling brother back.
Together, we walk in silence past the visitors sitting at the firepit. I notice Logan watching me with narrowed eyes. It’s nearly impossible not to squirm, but I somehow manage, focusing on Ryder’s and my feet as we step in perfect unison. Thankfully, when we make it into the big house, no one is lingering in the kitchen.
We’re alone.
“How’d the hunt go?” I ask, opting for small talk instead of going right into what I really want to ask him. What happened with Dad?
“Rowdy almost got a buck. We’re going to leave some corn tonight and go back earlier tomorrow to see if we can stake him out.” Ryder follows me into the large pantry and leans against the doorframe as I start putting the eggs in the crate. “You can come with us if you want.”
I finish unloading my basket and then take his before answering. “Yeah, maybe.”
He sighs heavily. “What do you want to talk about?”
I set the basket down at my feet and turn to look at him. Today, he’s tired. I can see it in the slight shadowing under his eyes, the hunch of his shoulders, and the inability to even attempt a smile. Even his voice sounds exhausted.
“What’s going on with you?” I step closer to him. “You’ve been distant.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, darting his eyes away from mine. “It’s nothing.”
“Big liar.”
I poke at his stomach that’s hard from a life of physical labor. He jerks his head my way, a smirk playing at his lips. Seeing the tease of a smile I’ve been missing has my stomach flipping. Memories of that night flood through my brain, sending currents of electricity pulsing through me straight to my cock. I’m annoyed by the fact I’m sporting a semi just from an almost smile from my brother, but here I am doing just that.
“Tell me,” I murmur. “You can tell me anything. We don’t keep secrets, Ry.”
His blue eyes flash at the mention of secrets and his tongue runs along his bottom lip, wetting it. My own mouth waters for a taste of his bottom lip. I’d love to nip at it and turn it into his full-on boyish grin.
As though he’s trapped in a trance, he reaches forward, hooking his finger through the front belt hoop of my jeans. I choke on a gasp as he tugs me closer to him. My heart leaps up my throat and every nerve in my body sings to life.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
His touch and attention, even as simple as this stolen moment in the pantry, are a fantasy come to life. It’s wrong, but right now, I don’t care. This feels really good—us, alone, focused on one another.
I want to kiss him.
Again.
This time with tongues and teeth and breathy moans.
I blink away my daze and understanding chases away the lust I’d been consumed by. He’s trying to distract me. He’s playing my desire for him against me to avoid the question. Hurt lances through me, cutting deeply and violently. I jerkily pull away from him, swatting his hand off my belt hoop. My cheeks are hot with a mixture of lingering desire and embarrassment.
I fell for it.
He laid a trap, much like he plans to for that buck, and he pounced.
“Ro,” Ryder says, panic flickering in his eyes. “I…I can’t.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glower at him. “You can. Tell me and stop playing games to confuse me.” My voice quivers. “That’s fucked-up to lead me on like that.”
His eyebrows pinch together and he squeezes his eyes shut. A heavy sigh rushes past his lips—lips I was craving desperately seconds ago. A liar’s lips. “I wasn’t leading you on.”
Now his liar’s lips are spilling audible lies.
“Look at you,” I hiss. “You don’t even care. You were just doing what you knew would distract me to avoid a stupid question.”
Oh God.
This is so messed up and it’s all my fault. I let him get me off the other night and press a kiss to my lips. I basically begged for it. But he’s never wanted any of this. It’s all been out of some duty to help me, his brother, and today, avoid my line of questioning.
Unbelievable.
“I care,” Ryder says, unable to look at me as despair consumes him. “I care so much it fucking kills me.”
All the indignant fire burning through me swooshes out to make way for guilt. Guilt may as well be my middle name.
“Then why won’t you tell me?” I demand, my voice a mere whisper. “Please.”
His jaw tightens as he sears me with his gaze. “Dad’s making me leave.”
“Leave to go where?” I frown as I try to make sense of his words. “What does that even mean?”
He sets down his rifle, propping it up against the shelves, and then cautiously approaches me. This time, he’s not looking at me like he wants to kiss me. His eyes are searching mine, pleading with me to understand. He raises his hand like he wants to cradle my face in his palm. I’m desperate enough for his touch, I almost tilt my head to meet him halfway.
Almost.
When he realizes I’m not going to let him get away with this twice, he gives up, dropping his hand to his side. His nostrils flare in frustration. “It means when Wild and them go back to town, I’m going with them.”
My heart stutters to a stop as I gape at him. “What? For how long? Why?”
“As long as it takes to find a wife,” he mutters, scowling. “Indefinitely if need be.”
I’m already shaking my head. “N-No. You can’t leave us. You can’t leave us!”
He swallows and shrugs. “It’s out of my hands.”
“Why would he do this to us?” I demand, rubbing at the center of my chest. An ache has formed there and I want it to go away. It grows wider and wider by the second. I realize that hole is where Ryder lives and he’s being excavated by my dad’s stupid order. “Why, Ryder? Why?”
His mouth parts as he prepares to speak, but a blood-curdling scream pierces the air. Since Ryder is closer to the pantry door, he turns on his heel and is out before me. I follow him toward the sounds of continued screaming toward the makeshift infirmary that used to be Dez and Raegan’s room.
Stacey must be in labor.
Ryder slams to a halt just inside the doorway, forcing me to step around him so I can see. Stacey is crying and screaming, but she’s not the one in pain here.
It’s Kristen.
Kristen, face chalky and eyes wild, slashes another red stripe across the flesh of her forearm near her wrist. Blood slides down her arm, puddling on the white sheet that’s tangled in her lap. She’s about to slash a third time before I snap into action.
“No!” I bellow, rushing her. “Stop!”
She grunts when I grab onto the wrist of her uninjured arm. I squeeze tight enough she lets the steak knife drop. It slides to the floor with a clatter.
“Fuck,” I cry out. “Ryder, get Dad!”
Kristen sobs, her entire body trembling. I snatch up the sheet and apply it to her bleeding arm, hoping to staunch the flow. I glance over at Stacey, but she’s gone, having followed Ryder out of the room. Carter is here with us, but he’s sleeping off his intense pain and unmoving, therefore no help to us right now.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I promise to Kristen. “I’ve got you.”
It’s a promise I can’t keep, though. We’re hours away from civilization. If she bleeds out or gets an infection, she’ll die. There’s no access to medical care.
Kristen turns her pale, tearstained face toward me and pins me with a frantic look. “Run.”
Run?
Great, she’s already speaking incoherently. She’s probably seconds away from death.
“We’re going to get you fixed up,” I say, ignoring her strange command. “My parents have sewn up their fair share of gashes. You’re going to be good as new very soon.”
