Fears and Scars (24 page)

D
ealing
with the police takes hours. Trying my best to hide a prickle of unease that keeps creeping up my spine, I tell two detectives all the lies I’m supposed to say.

After they leave the room with Ryan, Mark brings me some soup and doesn’t leave my side. We chat, but our interactions are strained not matter how hard we both try to get back to where we were before Ryan and I broke up. There’s a newfound distance between us. I know Mark notices it too from the apologetic look in his eyes.

I may have forgiven Ryan for hiding the truth from me, but Mark is an entirely different matter. We were close before. He was like a brother to me, but he betrayed my trust. It will take time for me to ever open up to him again.

Then the Young’s visit me, I arch my eyebrow at Mark when I see David’s split lip and swollen face.

What the hell happened to him?

“Your Price thought I kidnapped you,” David explains.

“I’m … I’m sorry,” I say politely. The truth is I’m not all that sorry. He had it coming.

It’s almost four in the morning when I can’t keep my eyes open anymore and tell Mark I’m going to take a nap.

I don’t know how long I sleep, but then Ryan is back.

“We’re free to go, baby.”

I change in what feels like seconds, eager to get out of here.

“I won’t be wheeled anywhere. I’ll walk,” I say, noticing a nurse with a wheelchair.

I’m not sure Ryan understands how much this means to me. It feels like solid ground had been kicked from underneath my feet, and I refuse to be in a free fall for another second. I need to regain some control.

“Okay,” he says before offering me his hand.

I smile at him because I know he understands. This is the first time I experience a grain of happiness in so many hours.

With our fingers tightly twined, we walk from the hospital and to the car that will take us to his Gulfstream. Mark and four huge man wearing dark suits accompany us everywhere.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Ryan asks me when we’re in the air.

“Not great, sleepy. But I’ll be okay.” I answer, fighting to keep my eyes open.

The truth is I’m exhausted. The strength I have left seems to evaporate more and more with each passing minute. My eyelids feel so heavy; I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’ll take care of you.” He kisses my knuckles and cradles my hand between his big, firm, warm palms, making me feel protected.

I rest my head on his shoulder and let sleep overtake me.

Arriving in New York is a blur. I remember weakly protesting when Ryan tried to wake me when we landed. There must not have been much fight left in me, because Ryan cradled me against his chest and carried me from the plane, to the car, and then into his apartment.

When I wake next to my sleeping boyfriend in an enormous king-sized bed, it’s dark outside. Thirty-six hours have passed since I stepped outside my childhood home. Everything that’s happened in those moments feels like a distant memory. It’s truly a miracle how the brain can block stress and shock.

The only light in the room comes from a lamp on the other side of the bed, casting the room in a yellow glow. Ryan’s bedroom looks masculine and sexy. And of course, there’s a complete lack of clutter—perfect organization is exactly what I expect from my neat freak. But what leaves me wide-eyed are photos. There are at least ten huge photos of me covering the walls.

Creepy.

Well, I guess we’ll need to talk about them when he wakes up.

After I use the bathroom and brush my teeth, the shower calls my name. Standing under the hot spray, I try to wash away the truth about my biological father and his bat-shit crazy wife.

Should I believe her? Did he know about me all along? If he didn’t, it doesn’t really change anything.

After I dry off, I wrap myself in Ryan’s bathrobe and tiptoe past my sleeping boyfriend and head down the hallway.

I’m in a such a weird state. All I want to do is to curl into a small ball and hide until all my problems go away. But they won’t, so I opt for having a glass of water—or something stronger—to clear my head.

When I round the corner, I find myself in a large living room with sky-high ceilings and sleek grey and black furniture. Manhattan shines through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I’ve never been to New York before and seeing it like this for the first time takes my breath away.

The hardwood floors are cool beneath my feet as I carefully make my way to the kitchen in the dark. I can’t figure out how to turn on the lights and can’t find a drop of alcohol. After pouring myself a glass of cold water, I return to the living room and sit on the couch.

As I gaze at the city lights, a sudden despair drops into my stomach.

Deborah could have killed me.

It’s going to be okay
;
everything is going to work out
, I silently reassure myself.

But it’s bullshit. As long as I am alive I’m a threat to Deborah North. She still can hurt Ryan and Jacob. The realization that everyone I love may be in danger because of me makes gut twist.

What do I do? Leave them?

I have to. Ryan will never sit by and allow things run their course.

Life hasn’t given me a break since my parents died. It feels like I’m destined to be miserable. I blink a few times when I feel the familiar sting behind my lashes.

I stop the tears from coming, but my heart is crying out in fear and despair.

For long moments I let myself wallow in my misery. I expected Ryan to propose as soon as I came to New York. I dreamed about getting married and having kids in a few years. But how can I think about bringing children into this world when they’ll be in danger too?

Maybe fear is poisoning my thoughts, or maybe it’s common sense talking. Either way, I cover my face with my hands and let myself cry for the life that has been stolen from me once again. I should know better by now. Nothing good in my life lasts.

A sweet meow evaporates my tears.

“Hey, bud. I missed you,” I tell Snow, scooping him from the floor. I haven’t seen our cat since Ryan took him when he left for New York last week.

“How are you doing?”

My favorite little black ball of fur licks my cheek. He clearly missed me too and seems to gain a pound.

“Mommy is here now.”

I put him onto my stomach and begin petting him.

“Liz?” Ryan calls from the bedroom after a few minutes.

“I’m here,” I call back.

He’s in the living room in a second, breathing hard, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. When his eyes find mine, he tries his best to hide the panic I see in his green depth. Snow jumps out of my arms and runs to the kitchen.

Ryan pulls me into his strong arms; they feel like a protective shield and create the illusion that everything will be OK. The smallest space between us is intolerable. He may hate me after we talk, so I cling to him as tightly as I can.

“You all right?” I ask him, inhaling his familiar scent.

“Yeah. Just a bad dream.”

We both know he’s lying. It wasn’t a dream that put fear in his eyes, it was memories of those hours I’d been missing. It was this new feeling of helplessness.

“Why are you sitting out here alone? You should have woken me up.” He kneels in front of me. His warm hands stroke my thighs, offering me comfort. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing, just a little shaken.”

“Do you want me to call a doctor?”

“No.”

“Liz, I need to tell you something. I asked Clayton to dig something up on Deborah—he’s still working on it—but he found something yesterday and sent it to me.”

“What is it?”

“One of her main opponents died in a plane crash three years ago, just a month before the election … and the plane has the same engine problems.”

I blink a few times. That bitch murdered my parent. “No. She wouldn’t. Why?”

“It may be a coincidence, but it’s too suspicious.”

“Maybe it’s just … God, why would she do that?”

“I’m not sure.”

Either way, I’m screwed. Deborah will kill for her career. She may already have. “Do you think my parents knew something?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. They may have looked for your biological father.”

They died because of me, and now Ryan and Jacob are in danger too.

“Jesus, Ryan, you can’t get involved in that. I don’t … I can’t … If something happens to you, I’d never forgive myself. I can’t do that to you. God, I should have—” I’m not sure what I should have done. Wherever I go, no one will be safe.

I bite my lower lip. “I can’t put you in danger. I … I don’t think—”

“Liz, stop it. Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking. It’s bullshit.”

“It’s not. It’s me doing what’s best for you,” I tell him, crossing my arms.

He snickers and stands up. “That’s exactly how I was thinking when I decided to hide the truth about Jacob from you. Was it the right thing? No. It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

“That’s completely different.”

He slides his hands into his pockets. “I think it’s exactly the same. You’re sitting here trying to come up with a solution by yourself, thinking it’s best for me. That’s exactly what I did, and I was wrong. I took away your choice. We’re in a relationship, and we should discuss things like this. Together.”

“How can’t you see it? It’s not about making our relationship work. It’s about you staying alive, breathing, living. She can decide at any minute that my word isn’t good enough. She can hurt you or Jacob. This isn’t a movie, Ryan. This is real life.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Desperation edges his words. “You were kidnapped, and I couldn’t do anything. You were nowhere to be found, and I could do shit about it!”

He looks at the ground and runs his hand through his hair. “I know damn well you’re a threat to her as long as you’re breathing. But you and I—” He points his finger between us. “We’re in this together. Always. There’s no other option for me.”

“Ryan…” I plead as the ache in my chest flares.

How can I reason with him not to put his life on the line for me? How do I find the right words to explain to him that we can’t be together because I love him with everything I am?

“Remember that day when you found out I bought the house behind your back?” He doesn’t wait for me to reply. “That day you told me that there were situations where the decision was only yours to make even though I might think I was protecting or taking care of you. Well, now the tables are turned.

“I love you, Liz, and if you love me back, don’t leave. Don’t hurt me. Don’t make the same mistake I made. Give me the chance to decide. Let me make this decision for myself.” He looks sharply at me, and his words go straight to my heart.

Hurting Ryan is the last thing I want to do. I remember coming apart at the seams without him. And the hurt … there was so much hurt. Do I want him to be like that? To break inside every minute of every day? Of course I don’t. A person can survive a broken heart, not a bullet in the head.

I shake my head. “You want me to sacrifice your safety—your life—for our happiness? What about our future, Ryan? You want to have a family, and I can never give you that. Not while worrying about this every day.”

He grunts, his annoyance restrained. “I want you to understand that life isn’t fair.” He slumps down on the edge of the sofa next to me and buries his face in his hands. “Life is life. It screws with our plans. It can be cruel and unpredictable.”

After letting his words hang in the air for a moment, Ryan turns to me. “Don’t walk away from a chance at happiness because of fear. Because of the possibility of something that
may
never
happen. At the end of the day, nothing’s promised. All we have is here and now. We can never be sure about tomorrow, no matter who our parents are. We may go to bed and never wake up or walk down the street right and be hit by a car. There will always be things working against us. So what? You’ll let life win?

“You’re smart, talented, and so very strong. You’re one of the strongest people I know. Don’t run. Fight for what you want, for those you love. I know you love me and Jacob. You love us hard and deep and with every cell in your body, so fight like that, Liz. Fight that fear for us just as wholeheartedly. I know you can do it. Tell life to fuck the fuck off, and let’s be happy.”

A war wages within my soul: the struggle between what is right but could bring hurt into our lives and between what I want but could possibly cost the man I love his life.

A hundred and one thoughts race through my mind. None of them registers because I’m listening to my screaming heart that begs me to just live in this moment and believe that Ryan is right.

I scoot closer to him and bush my fingers against his cheek. My “okay” is barely a whisper. The word slides out of my mouth with absolute ease, because I know I’m doing the right thing.

“Okay?” He stares deep into my eyes, trying to find the answer there.

“I’ll stay, and we’ll fight that bitch called life together.”

“You better be sure, Liz, because if you leave me, I’ll hunt your silly ass down. I’ll find you, and then there will be consequences.”

I smile. “My silly ass and I are definitely staying, Mr. Bossy. I promise. Forever. You made your choice and I’ve made mine.”

He closes his eyes and places his forehead to mine. “Okay. Even though I’m dying to take you to bed, tell me what you want to do. Do you want us to stay here or do you think you’ll feel safer somewhere else? Choose whatever place you’d like—Paris, London, Venice, Rome, Seattle, Vancouver or some remote island. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“It won’t matter to her where I live, right?”

He reaches for my hands that have been twisting the sash of the robe, stilling them. “I don’t think so.”

“Then let’s stay.”

“No matter the location, we’ll have to make changes in our lives, Liz. I’ve already ordered a new security system for this place. It’ll be installed tomorrow. Each of us will have bodyguards—you can’t fight me on that. I promised to protect you, and I will.”

“What about your architecture company?”