Page 9 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. One (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #1)
Rhett
December
Snow swirls around us as we step into the warmth of the coffee shop. It soothes the bitter chill from outside, but an ache takes root deep in my chest as I move closer to the counter. The place is strung up with red and green streamers and twinkle lights, and soft Christmas music plays through the speakers.
My throat feels raw, and a familiar pressure builds between my eyes. It always hits hard at this time of year. The absence of a person who should be by your side, the silence instead of their laughter.
But I push those feelings down, rubbing my fingers along the rough edge of my coat’s zipper. The sensation keeps me in the present enough that my nervous system settles down. I’m already drowning in my anger. I can’t take the extra grief on top of it.
As Wren takes our order, I notice she seems extra cheerful today. She’s got a red and white striped bow in her hair, and her eyes are sparkling. Makes me wonder if the Christmas decorations were her idea. She seems like the kind of person who loves to bask in all the joy that can come with the holiday season.
I slip a hand into my pocket, feeling the wad of bills I put in there this morning. I’m not a good man. That’s something I accepted the moment I decided to turn down the path I did. But if my sister had gotten the chance to grow up, she’d be a good person. And… I don’t know, maybe I’d be different, too.
She loved Christmas. Even though our father never did anything to make it special, I made sure she had the best time possible. As she got a little older, I think she saw the weight on my shoulders, and she did her best to alleviate it. Hell, she tried to do the same thing for Oliver’s mom, too, when we’d go over to their house. Never met a little kid who saw so much—who cared so much.
Truly, she’s the reason for the bills in my pocket. Every Christmas, I think about all the presents I wanted to get Sammy—the dolls and the dresses and the stuffed animals—and my lack of ability to do so. It kills me, knowing there are so many people who’re in a similar situation to the one we were in. So whenever I think about it, I always try to do something to remedy that.
It’ll never be enough. I know that. But it eases some of the pain that follows me around, and if Sammy is watching, I hope it makes her proud.
“Hey.” Oliver nudges me. “You good?”
I blink, realizing that Elliot is pulling out his card. The total on the card reader is the same as always, so he must’ve ordered for me.
Oliver squeezes my arm.
“I’m fine,” I mumble.
He nods, watching me for an extra second before turning back to the counter. Wren and Elliot are chatting, but as he swipes his card, he wraps up their conversation. There are people behind us, so we can’t take our time today.
Once Wren turns away to start making our drinks, I slip the bills out of my pocket and drop them into the tip jar. The movement catches Oliver’s eye, and his expression softens.
I can see it on his face, all the things he wants to say to me. That’s the problem with loving someone for fourteen years. Both him and Ell know me inside out. He knows I’m thinking about Sammy—knows my heart feels like it’s been ripped out of my chest. But thankfully, he also knows that I can’t handle more than a squeeze of my hand right now.
One day, maybe the pain won’t feel so fresh. And one day, maybe I’ll have my shit together enough that Oliver won’t feel like he needs to hold himself back for me.
I’m not there—not yet. But I will be soon. We just have to end the man who took Sam away from me. Then I’ll be able to breathe again.