Shame and humiliation have me stalking hurriedly toward my pack, away from the sound of his deep voice. I grab it, not slowing my steps, and hike it over my shoulder. I can hear his footfalls getting closer. He’s running now, and all I can think about is how I don’t want an audience.
I turn on him, stopping him just feet away from me. “Not here,” I whisper tersely.
He glances around, his chest heaving. “Where, then? I’m not letting you take another step away from me until I explain—”
“Not. Here,” I repeat.
Then his eyes are hard on mine, trapping me, and I’m lost to a feeling of hurt like I’ve never felt before. It slices fiery hot through my resistance, and I don’t fight him as he links his fingers through mine and leads me away.
It’s bad enough me knowing, I can’t stand the thought of the whole school knowing, too. All those Facebook posts and Twitter hashtags, announcing that the QB all-star is grudge fucking a prime debutante to give the middle finger to his past. It’s not exactly how his brother worded it, but it’s, oh, so the truth. It all fits together now.
I could never figure out what Ryder saw in me. Why he worked so hard at making me his. In some strange, unsettling way, I feel vindicated. Like finally proving what I suspected all along. Only, the proof doesn’t alleviate any of the hurt; just deepens the wound.
It’s my own doing. I was all too happy to be swept away in the fantasy. I never learn. I deserve this.
As he pushes open a door to the maintenance building off the main courtyard, he keeps his hand clamped around mine. He pulls me inside, then turns and slams the door closed. He faces me, his heavy breaths marking the air between us.
I wriggle free from his iron grip, then run my palm along my jean-clad thigh. My skin prickling from his hot touch. He pushes his back up against the door, as if to block any attempt at retreat. The act is so aggressive, I recoil away from him.
“If I insist to leave at any time—”
“I’ll let you,” he says. “Just give me five minutes, Ari. Please,” he adds, wiping a hand down his face. His clear blue eyes plead with me in the small, dimly lit room. When I don’t say anything, he releases a shaky breath and nods. “You do resemble the girl I had it bad for in high school. I won’t deny it.”
His admission hits me like a punch to the stomach. I reel back, my hands searching for something solid to connect with and keep me steady. I find a lawn chair and settle down unsteadily.
“But,” he says, taking a step away from the door, “that lasted all of a day. It’s not the reason why I asked you out, and it’s not the reason I continued to pursue you despite your rejection.” His face pinches in agony. “I barely knew Alyssa. It was a pathetic crush from an even more pathetic kid who longed for acceptance. I can own that now.”
A heaviness weighs down my shoulders, and I wrap my arms around myself. “You lied to me. I knew there was more to what you told me, and I never forced the whole story, Ryder. I chose to trust you. After everything I divulged…what I told you about me…I trusted you.”
His face twists as if he’s pained. “I could barely own the truth myself, Ari. I’m sorry. But how in the hell could I explain that to you? What happened back then with her doesn’t have anything to do with us. She’s nothing to me.”
I lift my head. “She’s obviously not nothing. Not if she effected you so deeply.” I release a heavy breath. “She hurt you.”
He sighs and looks at the ground. “No. Not really. She lured me to a party, made me believe she wanted me to be there…with her—” his gaze finds mine “—but it was so her boyfriend and some of the team could teach me a lesson. About how broke-ass losers like me don’t get to partake in their lifestyle.” He shakes his head. “I mean, I rode the bench, but they wanted me to understand…to really get it…that I was beneath them.”
I feel my brow furrow, and he clarifies. “They got me good,” he says. “Old-fashioned swirlies and a wicked beat down that left me limping for a week. Captured it all on a phone, too. The video got thousands of likes and the bullying at school went viral…” He trails off, then, “Until Jake came down one weekend.”
He doesn’t really need to finish this story. And I wish he wouldn’t. I feel like I’m going to lose my stomach all over again. Sick with the need to purge the images from my head.
“He always defended me,” Ryder says, sinking his hands into his pockets. “All through school, assholes rarely laid a finger on me until he went off to college. Then I think…I think him making it at ball set something off wit
h those guys. They didn’t like that a poor nobody from their town was the one who made it.” He chuckles uncomfortably at this, lost in the memory. “So they took it out on me. And maybe Jake knew that. Maybe he even blamed himself for the beating I took. But the truth is, he was always just off. Violent, and had a bad substance abuse problem. I think the both went hand in hand.”
“What happened that night, Ryder?” I ask, my voice echoing off the walls, bouncing back to my ears in a hoarse whisper. “Did you think she was the one to humiliate you?”
His face crumples, his broad shoulders fall. “No. Even after everything, I didn’t blame Alyssa. It’s just the way they were, all of them. I was getting out soon, graduating and leaving for college. Jake had the pros, and that meant I could be free to be whatever I wanted.”
Then he says, “But Jake wouldn’t hear any of that. He was pissed off at a lot of things back then. I guess he still is.” He shrugs. “He talked me into going to the big blowout before graduation. Us crashing the party. He wanted to shove his success in their faces. And maybe I knew in the back of my mind he was going to get into a fight. Hell, he always did. And I maybe I wanted him to give a bit of that to those guys.” His gaze sharpens on me. “I was a coward. I never fought my own fights back then. But, Ari. You have to believe me when I say I could’ve never predicted he’d hurt her. Honestly, the look in Jake’s eyes right before… It wasn’t about me at all.”
I stand, my legs shaky. “You saw it. Everything that he did to her.” The shame that fills his face says a million things; all the guilt and fear he’s harbored since then.
“No—I didn’t lie to you about that. He took her off while I was licking my wounds.” His body quakes with a hard shiver. “Jake just lost it. It happened so fast; one second he was talking, and the in the next, she slapped me. That’s what Alyssa did to set him off. Right before, he told her something…I don’t even remember what now…something crude. And then she turned to me and gave me a good slap.”
He pushes out a heavy breath. “I did exactly what he said. I was so angry, so hurt, I had tears in my eyes. I headed right for the door and then everything after that moment was so surreal. I heard the his shouting, her screaming. Then he was too far away. With her. I tried to get to her…through the door.” He voice breaks. “Later, it was like I dreamed it. Like it was just a bad trip.”
“Ryder,” I say, taking a tentative step toward him. “You need to talk to someone about this.”
“I have. I gave the police my statement over and over—”