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Ryden growled. “Fuck off, you idiot.”
“It all makes sense now. You were obsessed with K.Y. Wolff, and then you met Doctor Death here.”
“You were?” I asked Ryden, and he bared his teeth at me.
“Fuck no. I only wanted to kill her.”
“You did not.” I smirked. “That day… I rubbed my ass against you and…”
“Then you fucking stabbed me in my dick.”
“Oh, I made sure not to damage your beautiful dick.” I grinned, and Enzo howled in laughter, much to Ryden’s displeasure.
After saying goodbye to Enzo, Ryden drove me home in Enzo’s car. We walked inside and sat down on the couch with a frown.
“Are we going to talk about this or what?” Ryden said, previous playfulness completely wiped away from his voice. This was the time for confrontation. For someone who thrived in chaos, this made me anxious.
“Should we?” I asked, running my fingers through my hair. I had never been so nervous in my life, not even when Logan Jones was shooting at us. But now… “Do you even want to be here?”
“Fucking yes. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I’ve been running my whole life, but not anymore. I want to stay. I’ve found my home.” His eyes were directly on mine, prodding, intrusive. “I found a place where I want to belong forever. You just have to make up your damn mind. What do you want, Yara?”
“But… I killed your brother,” I whispered.
What are you trying to do, you idiot? To push him far away or to pull him closer?
I have no fucking idea, Kat. All of this is a clusterfuck.
“Fuck. You couldn’t be more clear. You want me to go, then?” Ryden asked, standing up with a grunt.
The veins on his hands became obvious as he balled them into fists.
“Will you go if I ask you?”
“You know… I’ll respect your decision most of the time, but this isn’t going to be that time. I’m staying. Let’s get our wounds cleaned up. We have to wipe that art Logan made on your wall, as well.”
I patched up the gunshot wound on his shoulder and applied ointment to the scratches on his skin. After I was done, he cleaned mine, his fingers gentle. He touched my jaw with a wince. “Does it hurt?” I shook my head. “It’s bruised.”
“I don’t feel it,” I said as he applied more ointment to my jaw.
When he was done, he stared at the wall. “Now to the faces. Do you have vinegar?”
“Kitchen. Second cabinet from the left.”
He came back with a bowl and a damp sponge. I sat there on my bed, staring at Ryden’s back flexing under his shirt as he meticulously wiped every line of unwanted reminders on my wall. Before long, the smiley faces were gone, much like the one who had drawn them.
Ryden put the washcloth and water down and slumped on the bed with a sigh. “Come here, Red.” He lay down and patted the space next to him. I joined him.
“Is he really gone?”
“He is.”
“I’m so tired and sore.”
Ryden pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Go to sleep, baby. Go to sleep. You had a long day.”
It usually took me a long time to fall asleep, but with Ryden here, the lingering fears were gone. I knew I’d always be safe with him.
“Goodnight, Ryden.”
