Page 18 of Pretty Broken Doll

Shilo

C hristmas comes and goes like it usually does.

After waking up with the first—and definitely last—hangover of my life, Mom cooks me a greasy breakfast that I actually keep down while Dad blasts eighties holiday music. We exchange gifts once Paige gets home from spending the night with Declan, watch It’s A Wonderful Life with steaming mugs of apple cider, and then pile into the car for a drive down Snowflake Lane to look at the lights.

All very typical for a Reed family Christmas.

What surprises me, though, is the text I get from Ryann because I’d been expecting the cold shoulder from him like usual.

Boss:

Merry Christmas. How are you feeling this morning?

Me:

Hi, Merry Christmas. I’m alright. Slightly nauseous and my head hurts.

Boss:

Champagne will do that. Take some Tylenol and drink lots of fluids.

Me:

Yes, Boss.

When he doesn’t respond for over an hour, I send another message.

Me:

Thanks for last night, by the way. Can’t remember much, but I think you brought me home and fed me? Unless I dreamed all of that. In which case, nevermind, and idk how I got home.

Boss:

It wasn’t a dream, and you’re welcome. Anytime.

I stare at that text for far too long, especially when days go by without another word. The idea that he’s probably spending the holidays with his girlfriend makes me nauseous. With CalTek closed again until after New Year’s, I have too much time to think about it all. Think about him .

I don’t leave my room for a week, burying myself in building my PC just to keep my mind busy. I don’t even shower until Dad threatens to toss me outside into the rain, claiming I reek. Mom changes my sheets while I’m in the bathroom, and the fresh linens make my mood plummet—they no longer smell like Ryann’s cologne. The gloom clings to me until New Year’s Eve, when there’s an unexpected knock at my bedroom door.

“Shilo, you’ve got a friend here to see you. Can I let him in?”

Yanking off my gaming headset, I shoot to my feet, hope sparking in my chest. “Yeah, Mom. Who is it?”

“He said you call him Kansas?”

Deflating instantly, I slump back into my computer chair just as KC sweeps into my room, wearing a skintight golden jumpsuit that probably gave Dad an aneurysm.

He halts, gazing over my baggy shirt and pajama bottoms with pursed lips. “Well, don’t act so excited to see me. It’s embarrassing.”

“Sorry, I just hoped you’d be Ryann. How’d you know where I live?”

“Your sister.” He flops onto my unmade bed, wrinkling his nose at Master Splinter in the corner. “Since you disappeared from the party on Christmas Eve and couldn’t be bothered to answer my texts, I decided to check in.”

With a wince, I pull my arms inside my shirt. “Uh, yeah, sorry about that…I had too much free liquor and wasn’t feeling good. Then the holiday happened…”

“It’s fine, Shilo. I know I’m not the center of your universe, though I should be,” he pouts, folding his arms. “But I’ll only forgive you if you take me out tonight.”

“Out?”

“Yes. Out. It’s New Year’s Eve, and parties are happening across the city. Tina and their girlfriend will also be tagging along, so chop-chop. Throw on something slutty, and let’s go.”

Frowning, I glance down at my week-old clothes. “But I don’t own anything slutty. And I kinda want to play Minecraft instead.”

KC huffs, sliding off my bed to peruse my closet. “I’m going to pretend you did not just say that.”

There’s something off about his tone, an unfamiliar edge that makes me nervous. I watch him closely as he yanks shirts off hangers sharply, definitely agitated.

Worried I might have upset one of my only friends, I ask cautiously, “Is something wrong?”

“No, Shilo, why would anything be wrong?” Giving up on the closet, he starts rummaging through my drawers. “Not that you’d know, seeing as how you’ve completely ignored me. Actually, you know what, yes. Something is wrong, and he wears a disgustingly sexy beanie that shouldn’t make him as hot as it does.”

“Ah. Carpenter.” My shoulders relax, knowing that I’m not the problem.

“Yes, my infuriatingly attractive, straight roommate who’s driving me absolutely insane,“ he clips, holding up my suspenders with a raised brow. “You could wear these with just a pair of pants. Nothing else. That whole nerdy twink vibe works for you.”

“I’m not going anywhere without a shirt,” I answer quickly.

“Fine, be boring. At least put on something tight so we can fuck.”

My jaw drops to the floor as I stammer, feeling my cheeks heat. “I…w-what, we aren’t…I don’t like you like that, Kansas.”

He sucks in a breath before throwing his head back to laugh, startling my rat. “Oh, blue-eyed boy, your face. That was beautiful. Not you and I together , but we are finding someone to get down and dirty with tonight if it’s the last thing I do.”

“But I don’t want to get down and dirty.” Well, I do. But not with a stranger. Just with my boss. Ex-boss?

KC throws me a pointed look, reading my thoughts. “He has a girlfriend, Shilo. You know that, right?”

Immediately, I scowl. “Yeah, but…I don’t think it’s real.”

Ryann made it sound like it wasn’t real, anyway. Just an act he was putting on for his father.

There’s a brief pause where KC’s eyes soften, and then he’s pulling out his phone as he slowly walks over to me. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this looks very real to me.”

He holds it up, and I blink at the screen, my stomach sinking as an Instagram photo of Ryann and Olivia assaults my eyes. It’s a post from Christmas—they’re on a boat surrounded by lights, probably the Ship Festival on the Puget Sound. And he’s…kissing her. Not on the lips, but still. On her cheek. The caption reads:

Happy Holidays to the best boyfriend a girl can ask for! So glad I met you. Love you, babe.

Love ? She loves him? When did that happen? I thought they’d just started going out.

Oh, how wrong I was because a quick scroll on her page shows multiple pictures of them together, dating all the way back to…

August. When we first met.

“I’m sorry,” KC says softly. “I thought you knew. It’s actually why I figured you went full hermit mode.”

Burning bile rises in my throat, and I cough, quickly making a beeline for the bathroom, where I all but force myself to keep my breakfast down.

I will not do it. I won’t. Doctor Iskar says it’s a trauma response, and I won’t let it win.

But it’s hard. Especially when the cruel things kids used to say about me come rushing back, their words slicing through my brain like fresh wounds—comments about my body, the way I looked. I spent all four years of high school trapped in a constant state of panic. Even now, I can still feel their hands on me, shoving me to the ground in the PE locker room, laughing while I cried.

“Are you alright?”

KC approaches me, and I straighten from where I’d been hunched over the sink, meeting his concerned expression in the mirror.

“I’m fine. It’s all fine.”

I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

“You don’t need to lie, babe.” He sets his chin on my shoulder, eyes so full of pity that I want to scream.

“I really don’t feel like partying, Kansas. I’m sorry.”

He gazes at me for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Okay. That’s fine. I’ll order a pizza, and we’ll play some games until midnight, then pass out. If it’s fine with your parents, I mean.”

Spinning around, he heads back into my room, and I follow with a frown. “They don’t care, I’m an adult. But why would you want to hang out here? Why not your place?”

“I cannot deal with Carpenter right now. Let me avoid him, Shilo. If we aren’t going out, here’s as good a place as any.”

“What did he do?”

Flopping face-first onto my bed, KC growls into the blankets. “I don’t want to talk about it.” After a beat, he turns his head to peek at me. “Any chance you’d let me kiss you at midnight and take a picture of it? Platonically, of course. I want to post it to the ‘Gram and make certain people jealous.”

I’m about to say no thanks, but his words make me pause. By certain people , I’m sure he means Carpenter, but…would Ryann see it, too? Would it make him jealous? Would he even care?

“I’ll…think about it,” I tell him, and he grins when I pull out my computer chair.

“Oh, this is so happening. Just don’t fall in love, Shi, because that would ruin our friendship, and I’d hate to lose you.”

Yeah, right. Pretty sure that won’t happen because I’m already in love with someone I can never have.

Things at CalTek don’t just pick up after the holidays—they explode. With IntelliCon coming up, everyone’s scrambling to prepare for the big presentation Ryann’s giving at the convention. He and Declan have been so swamped they even hired Carpenter as their full-time PA. KC’s ecstatic about it. (Kidding—he’s absolutely livid.)

Even my own duties have ramped up. Liza has me working directly with the developers on aspects of AVA since they finally let me in on the secret: it’s a smart-home security ecosystem, apparently, called Advanced Vigilance Assistant. Cameras, alarms, locks, the whole shebang. Olivia owns the company that CalTek purchased the software from, I guess. Some mid-sized security firm.

I even help Carpenter with the PowerPoint he was tasked with, which was an absolute struggle—he’s probably the least tech-savvy person I’ve ever met. Seriously, why was he even hired? On his first day, he had computer issues and texted me in a full-blown panic. I told him to clear his cache and cookies, and he thought I was telling him to throw up. What even?

Ryann texted me on New Years, but I never responded, and I haven’t seen him since Christmas Eve. I’m still pissed about him hiding the fact that he was in a fake relationship the entire time we were…doing whatever we were doing. And I want to confront him about it, but there’s just been no time with everything going on. But I think I’ll get my chance because the morning they’re scheduled to leave on their flight to New York, he appears before my desk in the R&D department.

“Why aren’t you preparing to leave?”

I glance up with a yelp, hurriedly clicking off the YouTube video I’d been watching of one of his college games. “Huh? Leave where? I’m not off until noon.”

It’s been weeks since I’ve seen him, and he looks good. So good. I hate it.

His hazel eyes study me intently, lips thinning with disapproval. “Clearly, I’ll need to talk with Liza about reading her emails. You’re coming to New York, Shilo, and the plane takes off at eleven. Go home and pack a bag. I’ll pick you up.”

Wait, what? What the hell?

“Ryann, I can’t—“ But he’s already walking away, so I jump up to hurry after him. “It’s a week and a half convention. I can’t be gone for that long!”

“And why not?” Without stopping, he raises a brow down at me. “Your classes are online, are they not? Plus, it’s paid. I’ve added you to the project, and I’ll need your assistance with that damn friend of yours that Declan hired. He doesn’t know his own ass from his elbow.”

Okay, well… he’s got a point, but…

Almost two whole weeks?! Away from home? Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been away from my family that long, which sounds really pathetic. What if something happens while I’m out there? It’s New York, what if I get mugged? Or, like, lost? Like that kid in Home Alone. I’m not as bright as him, I would for sure have gotten kidnapped by those two goofy criminals. And then what? I’m not cut out for a life of crime.

Ryann sighs heavily, glancing around before cupping my cheek. “Shilo, you’ll be fine. Liza and I will stay by your side, along with a handful of devs and our useless PA. Go get ready.”

When his hand falls from my face, an embarrassing whine leaves my throat at the loss of contact. I want it back, want it all over me. His eyes darken before he turns away, striding toward the elevator.

“Go. Hurry. I’ll pick you up in thirty.”

I watch him leave, nearly panting because I haven’t came in forever, and the sight of his butt in those slacks is insane. But I don’t have time to think about that, I have thirty minutes to—

Wait, thirty minutes?! It takes me at least fifteen to get to the house!

Hightailing it out of there, I race home, cursing out traffic the entire time. Mom’s on the couch when I burst through the door, out of breath, and I shout over my shoulder that I’m leaving for two weeks on my way up the stairs.

“What do you mean you’re leaving for two weeks?”

“Can’t explain, work trip, gotta pack.”

I’m throwing anything I can find into a duffle bag when the doorbell rings, and Ryann’s scent floods my senses when he enters my room.

“We’ve got less than an hour to get to the airport. Let’s go.”

“I haven’t done laundry,” I panic, stuffing what I’m pretty sure is a pillowcase into my bag on accident.

“Jesus Christ, your room is a mess again.” He grabs the duffle from me, zipping it quickly as he heads for the door. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll send for housekeeping when we arrive. Hurry up.”

Ugh, I frickin hate being rushed. But I follow him out, hugging my poor, bewildered mother before telling her I’ll call when we land. Honestly, it’s a good thing Dad’s at work because he’d probably have a few strong words to say about this, and I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that.

We barely make it to our gate, where Carpenter greets me with a narrowed glare. There’s a brief hiccup with my last-minute ticket, but the airline sorts it out, herding us onto the plane like cattle. I end up sandwiched between Liza and Ryann, which wouldn’t be so bad if my arm and knee weren’t pinned against his the entire six-hour flight. He spends it glued to his laptop, anyway, doing work stuff. When I comment on him deigning to sit with us peasants in coach instead of first class, he throws me a threatening look that makes my stomach flip.

Liza and I attempt to watch her favorite movie, Code Breakers , but we start our descent before it’s over—mercifully, because it was terrible. I tell her that, and she laughs like I’m joking.

The last time I was in New York, I was ten, and my family hated it. Too loud, too crowded, too expensive—though, as a kid, the expensive part wasn’t my problem. Turns out, nothing much has changed. By the time we’ve crammed ourselves and our bags into the hotel shuttle, I’m already exhausted and completely overstimulated.

True to his word, Ryann stays close, even squeezing into the backseat next to me. Carpenter’s on my other side, unusually quiet, and when I ask him if he’s okay, I get a shrug in response. According to KC, the two haven’t talked since that picture on New Year’s. I still don’t know what’s going on between them, but I hope I didn’t hurt Carpenter’s feelings.

By the time we reach the Four Seasons in New York, it’s already late, thanks to the three-hour time difference. Ryann leads the group to the counter in the sleek hotel lobby, while I hover nearby, wishing I had a hoodie to pull over my head. The overhead lighting reflects off the marble and glass, too bright for my tired eyes. I’m practically nodding off on my feet when Ryann’s raised voice snaps me awake, arguing with the concierge.

“What do you mean there are no other rooms available? We made these reservations months ago.” He glares at the poor, stuttering man, who holds up his palms defensively.

“For a party of six, yes. And we have six rooms reserved. All other accommodations are booked. I’m sorry, sir.”

“How is that fucking possible?”

“Bet it’s because of the Symbiotic concert tonight,” one of the developers says with a shrug, and the man behind the desk nods eagerly.

“They’re playing a show every night this week. All hotels in the city are full.”

Ryann blows out a frustrated breath, gritting his teeth. “I don’t know what a Symbiotic is, but we added another person to our party last minute. Where is he supposed to stay?”

“They’re a metal band,” Carpenter clarifies. “I don’t mind sharing my room. Shilo can stay with me.”

At this point, I’ll stay anywhere as long as I can get some sleep.

Ryann eyes Carpenter coldly before glancing at me, swaying slightly against Liza. His expression softens.

“No, he’ll stay with me. My room should have an extra pullout.”

“Uh, about that…” The concierge coughs with a wince. “Due to the flood of reservations, our system made a mistake. All of your rooms are standard with one queen bed.”

A heavy silence settles over the group, everyone exchanging uneasy glances while Ryann visibly fights to keep his temper in check.

“Fucking fantastic. Just give us the keys.” Snatching the card from the counter, he grabs my bag off the floor and strides toward the elevators without another word.

“I really don’t mind staying in Carpenter’s room, Mr. Callahan. It’s fine,” I try, trailing after him.

“Shilo,” he growls, punching the call button hard enough to make it rattle, “I’m not in the mood. I’ve got a hundred things to finish tonight before I can even think about sleeping, and we have to be up early for Phase One of the convention. Don’t argue.”

I don’t have the energy to argue, even if I wanted to.

When we finally reach the room, Ryann drops my bag onto the bed and immediately sets up his laptop on the desk. I stand there awkwardly, shifting on my feet as I watch him, unsure of what to do. He glances briefly over his shoulder.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be up for a while working on this presentation.”

That’s all he says before diving back into his work. Feeling dismissed, I grab a pair of pajamas from my bag and close myself in the bathroom for a shower.

By the time I step back out, he’s completely engrossed, the faint glow of his laptop illuminating his face in the dim room. I’m so sleepy that I don’t even bother saying goodnight, choosing to crawl under the covers instead. Within seconds, I’m out like a light, sleep claiming me instantly.