Untamed (Unbeautiful 2)

Chapter 13

The Truth Will Set You Free, or it Will Kill You

Emery

After telling Ryler about Evan, I’m pretty much a dead woman walking. Ellis warned me someone is coming after me. Maybe that’s who is going to end me. Perhaps Ellis saw into the future and knew I was going to mess up, knew my father or Evan would come after me because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I’ve always wondered if my father might have been the one behind the notes in an attempt at scaring me to run home.

Regardless of my impending death, I secretly hope that when Ryler and I meet up with Evan, Ryler will lose his shit and punch him for hurting me.

God, I really am insane.

Delusional.

A danger.

More potent than the poison my mother drinks.

My lips are toxic.

My hands are death.

My mind is venomous.

Rain drizzles from the clouds rumbling above us, and silver flashes of lightning light up the cab of the car as we drive down the road toward Evan’s. He let me pick the music, and not knowing any bands, I clicked on a random playlist that fills up the silence between us until Ryler turns the volume down while we’re stopped at a red light.

“What are you thinking about?” Ryler signs. “You seem upset… Is it because of where we’re going?”

I shrug, turning to stare out the window, watching the rain trickle down the glass. It’s after three o’clock in the morning and the homes and stores lining the street are pitch black. The lampposts are the only light in the darkness engulfing the sleepy city.

I feel Ryler staring at me until the light turns green. Then he rips his attention off me. Instead of driving forward, he shoves the gearshift into park, leaves the engine idling, and rotates in his seat.

“What are you doing?” I sit up in the seat, glancing around at the desolation around us. “Why aren’t you driving?”

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong.” Ryler’s hands circle the air in smooth, flawless movements. “I feel like I should turn around, take you back to my place, and leave you with Violet and Luke. You shouldn’t have to see Evan.”

“It doesn’t matter where I am. Nothing matters,” I mumble, looking out the window again as thunder booms. The stores, while masked by darkness, feel alive and awake, as if they’re watching me. “And I’ve already told you too much for the night.” I glance back at him again. “You and I have crossed a lot of lines tonight.”

“That’s arguable,” he signs, his eyes burning fiercely. “But we’ll talk about that when we get home. Right now, I want you to tell me what’s bothering you. And don’t tell me that you’ve told me enough. You haven’t told me anything really.”

I shake my head. “I’ve told you more than I’ve told anyone.”

“Why are you so untrusting toward everyone?” he wonders. “What’s been done to you to make you so scared?”

Truth and trust. He wants me to hand it over, and oh, how I wish I could.

I bite down on my bottom lip until I draw blood, letting the foul taste of salt and rust burns at the back of my throat.

“Silence, Emery, or I will cut off your tongue,” my mother once said.

Silence, Emery, or I will silence you.

Silence, Emery, silence.

Silence, Emery.

They’re going to kill you.

Truth and trust.

Who do you believe?

I want to believe someone.

I want to be set free.

I have nothing left to lose.

My rose petals are all dying and are about to fall to the ground.

It feels like maybe Ryler will pick them up, if I let him.

“My father’s going to kill me.” My lips move on their own accord, making my decision for me. I keep my head turned away from him, too afraid that I’ll see disgust in his eyes. “When he finds out what I’ve told you—that he’s hurt me and so has Evan—they’ll both come after me.”

Ryler captures my chin in his hand and forces me to look at him. Our gazes drink each other in and then his palm leaves my skin. His hands rise in the air, but then lightning snaps in the sky and we both jump.

He lets out a shaky breath before he continues. “No one’s going to ever find out,” he assures me, one side of his mouth lifting into a lopsided grin. “My lips are sealed, and I mean it this time. What I did… agreeing to...” he trails off, gulping.

“Agree to what?”

He clenches the wheel, taking shallow breaths before elevating his hands again. “Your father told me to tell you I told him we went to the concert that night. I never told him. He just somehow knew.” He blows out a freeing breath while I struggle to breathe. “I never should have agreed to lie to you like that.”

“But how did he know?” I whisper. “How does he know everything?”

Ryler reaches across the console and gives my hand a squeeze before signing, “I don’t know how he knows stuff, but I wish I did. I want you to understand that you can trust me.” He draws an X across his heart. “I’m not Evan. I’m not your father. I’m just Ryler. The guy you first met, the one who gave you back your journal pages without reading them, who taught you how to play poker, who you gave the most amazing kiss ever—that’s still me. And what happened tonight, was simply amazing. I want more of that if you’ll let me.”

I suck my bottom lip between my teeth. Blood still lingers on it and the foul taste fills my mouth again. I want it, too, but don’t know how it’s possible. “My father won’t ever let you be with me. I’m supposed to be with Evan. It’s been predetermined since I was born.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

He looks like he means it, but again, how?

How can he think us being together, going against my father, is possible?

“Will you tell me why you work for him? My father, I mean. Maybe if you explained it to me, then I’d understand you more. Maybe I could understand why someone who seems as nice as you can work for someone as horrible as him.”

His expression drops as he tenses. I can’t, he mouths with remorse.

I look away, fighting back the tears. “It’s fine. I understand.” But I don’t. Not at all.

He grunts in frustration, the sound startling, like every sound he makes. Then his fingers find my chin again, and he urges me to look at him. I want to, but I can’t, he mouths. Not right now, anyway.

“When then?”

I don’t know, his lips move. But I’m going to find a way.

The streetlights reflect across his face, highlighting the pain in his eyes.

I nod, not knowing what else to say.

His fingers leave my face, and he retrieves a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. He pops one between his lips then cups his hands around his mouth and lights it up. Smoke immediately snakes through the air, and he cracks the window down. Wind gusts inside along with a spritz of rain.

I expect him to drive. No one’s around, but I don’t think there’s anything else left to say to each other except the truth. And neither of us seem willing to cave. Still, Ryler remains motionless, staring out the window, puffing on his cigarette.

Only when he’s smoked half of it does he focus back on me again with the cigarette resting between his lips. “What if I told you I didn’t want to work for your father?” he asks. “What if I had to work for him, but only for a while?”

I fiddle with the bracelet on my wrist. “Okay… But why?”

He removes the cigarette from his lips, reaches out the window, and grazes his thumb across the end, scattering ashes through the air. He takes another long drag and exhales before flicking the cigarette outside. Then he rolls up the window and wipes his damp hands on his jeans

“I can’t go into the details just yet. All I can say is that I don’t want to be working for your father, and after a while, I won’t have to.”

&nbs

p; Something about his eyes warms the iciness that has possessed the inside of me for my entire life. So cold, yet so warm. So evil, yet appears so good. So much like me that it’s frightening. Maybe if he can open up to me, I can open up to him. Tell him the truth about me. Tell him of my condition. Of what I did in the past. Maybe he wouldn’t judge me.

“Be careful,” I warn. “If my father knew you were saying what you are… He’d kill you.”