The Ritual

Ignoring her, I wrap my shirt around my right hand, make a fist, and slam it into the glass.

She squeals, jumping back. “Ryat!”

Pulling my arm out through the glass, she watches me wide-eyed as I unwrap the shirt from my fist, shake the remaining glass out and then pull it back on, along with my hat.

Reaching back in, I grab two energy drinks.

“Your hand.” She steps toward me. “You’re bleeding.”

I have blood running down my arm from where the glass cut me once I broke through. No biggie.

“You need stitches …”

“I’m fine,” I tell her. I’ve fucked myself up more in a fight.

“But …” She reaches out, grabbing me. “You may have glass in it.”

“Then I’ll get it out.” I yank my hand back from her. “Go do what you’re being fucking paid to do and help the ones who want it.”

She gasps like what I said offended her, which I did no such thing. It’s literally her job. Leaving her standing there with her mouth wide open, I make my way down the hallway to the waiting room to see Ty still here.

I sigh and plop down next to him, and without saying a word, I pass him one of the drinks I took from the crooked machine.

He chuckles but reaches out and takes it. It’s as close to an apology as he’s going to get. My wife is the only person who will ever hear sorry from me. But I do understand it wasn’t his fault. It was mine. And when she finally gets to go home, I’ll allow myself the chance to come up with an idea on how I’m going to kill Matt for laying his hands on her.

“I had Sarah drive us here in my car,” he speaks. “That way you can look at Blakely’s where it sits. See if he left anything behind.”

I swallow, knowing that I’m not going to like what I see on the inside after what he did to her. But he’s right, I need to look and see if he left any clues to find him before he has the chance to touch her again. “Thanks.”

BLAKELY

“RYAT,” I GROWL. “I can do it.”

“I know you can, Blake,” he lies. If he thought I could, then he’d actually let me.

Shoving his arm away from me, I give up when he doesn’t budge and allow him to help me walk back to the bed. I have a broken nose, not a broken leg.

Getting up and into it, I sigh. “When can I leave?” I ask him. I feel like five days—I was out the first three—is a long time for a busted-up face. They keep sending me for all these tests that come back fine every time.

“They said sometime tomorrow.”

“Why not today? I’m fine,” I say, pushing my split bottom lip out, hoping that will get me some sympathy.

It doesn’t.

“If the doctor thought you could leave today, then he’d let you,” he says matter-of-factly.

“This is like prison,” I say, throwing my head into my pillow and making Ryat laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“Coming from someone who’s been in jail, this is nothing like it.”

I open my mouth to ask when the hell he was arrested, but my door opens, and our fathers step in. They’re like best fucking friends now, I guess. Always together. Always here. Maybe they always have been, and I just didn’t know it.

I haven’t spoken to my mother. I’m pretty sure my father told her to stay the hell away from me after Ryat informed him that she slapped me. It’s been nice, actually, and kind of sad that I haven’t even missed her.

“Okay, everything looks good at the cabin,” my father tells Ryat.

“What do you mean?” I wonder.

“I had all new cameras installed. Inside and out,” Ryat answers. “I sent them over there so I could watch them to make sure they were working properly.”

“Why would you doubt that they are?” I ask, stuffing a french fry in my mouth that Abbot brought me.

“I’ve been watching them for over a week now and haven’t seen any activity,” he states, sitting down on the couch.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“You can never be too cautious,” he answers vaguely.

I stuff another fry into my mouth, close my eyes, and moan. So fucking good. Opening my eyes, I notice everyone is staring at me. “What?” I ask nervously.

My father runs his hand through his hair. “I think it’s time …”

“Phil…” Abbot clears his throat. “We agreed—”

“I changed my mind,” he interrupts him.

My eyes go to Ryat, and he shrugs like he has no clue what they’re talking about either. “Okay.” I sit up straighter in bed. “What’s going on?”

“Well …” My father swallows. “I need to tell you something.”

“Then tell me.” I’m so over all the secrets. Just get it all out right here in the open.