Page 37
Story: Reaching Ryan
Chapter Seventeen
Ryan
I fucked up.
Bad.
Beyond bad.
We’re talking near biblical proportions here.
Total and complete FUBAR.
And not just with Grace, even though what happened with her, what I said to her, is the bulk of what’s eating at me.
Because it’s the reason for what happened next. Why I did what I did.
Shit.
I’ve got blood on my hands.
Real blood.
I’m not imagining it—at least I don’t think I am. I’m not imagining what happened either. What I did. The way—
The quiet hiss and click of my door pulls my gaze up from my clenched fists to find Kaitlyn standing in front of me.
She’s back to being afraid. Her shoulders pressed against the door. Hand wedged into the small of her back, fingers wrapped around the door handle, ready to yank and claw at it if I so much as breathe wrong.
Somehow, she’s become the one they send in when I’m like this. The fresh meat they shove into the lion’s den. Sometimes I think it’s because of Conner. Because of her brief stint as his… whatever she was. They think I’ll look her differently for some reason. That I won’t attack her because she carries the scent of family.
They should know better by now.
No one is safe around me when I’m like this.
No one.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” She whispers it. Probably because she doesn’t want me to answer her. Because, despite the asking, she doesn’t want to know.
What happened?
I can’t fuck you, and even if I could—trust me, you wouldn’t want me to.
After I said it, I left Grace standing in the atrium. Walked away from her, even though doing it felt like someone was stabbing me in the chest with every step. She called after me, every time she said my name was a whip lash across my retreating back. Sharp and stinging, like an accusation.
Ryan…
Ryan…
Ryan…
I passed the elevator.
Headed straight for the stairwell.
The pair of orderlies at the lunch counter were there, waiting for me, just like I knew they would be.
Rich, King of the Asshole Orderlies was with them.
Ryan
I fucked up.
Bad.
Beyond bad.
We’re talking near biblical proportions here.
Total and complete FUBAR.
And not just with Grace, even though what happened with her, what I said to her, is the bulk of what’s eating at me.
Because it’s the reason for what happened next. Why I did what I did.
Shit.
I’ve got blood on my hands.
Real blood.
I’m not imagining it—at least I don’t think I am. I’m not imagining what happened either. What I did. The way—
The quiet hiss and click of my door pulls my gaze up from my clenched fists to find Kaitlyn standing in front of me.
She’s back to being afraid. Her shoulders pressed against the door. Hand wedged into the small of her back, fingers wrapped around the door handle, ready to yank and claw at it if I so much as breathe wrong.
Somehow, she’s become the one they send in when I’m like this. The fresh meat they shove into the lion’s den. Sometimes I think it’s because of Conner. Because of her brief stint as his… whatever she was. They think I’ll look her differently for some reason. That I won’t attack her because she carries the scent of family.
They should know better by now.
No one is safe around me when I’m like this.
No one.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” She whispers it. Probably because she doesn’t want me to answer her. Because, despite the asking, she doesn’t want to know.
What happened?
I can’t fuck you, and even if I could—trust me, you wouldn’t want me to.
After I said it, I left Grace standing in the atrium. Walked away from her, even though doing it felt like someone was stabbing me in the chest with every step. She called after me, every time she said my name was a whip lash across my retreating back. Sharp and stinging, like an accusation.
Ryan…
Ryan…
Ryan…
I passed the elevator.
Headed straight for the stairwell.
The pair of orderlies at the lunch counter were there, waiting for me, just like I knew they would be.
Rich, King of the Asshole Orderlies was with them.
Table of Contents
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