Untamed Page 29

I feel Ryler staring at me until the light turns green. Then he rips his attention off me. Instead of driving forward, he shoves the gearshift into park, leaves the engine idling, and rotates in his seat.

“What are you doing?” I sit up in the seat, glancing around at the desolation around us. “Why aren’t you driving?”

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong.” Ryler’s hands circle the air in smooth, flawless movements. “I feel like I should turn around, take you back to my place, and leave you with Violet and Luke. You shouldn’t have to see Evan.”

“It doesn’t matter where I am. Nothing matters,” I mumble, looking out the window again as thunder booms. The stores, while masked by darkness, feel alive and awake, as if they’re watching me. “And I’ve already told you too much for the night.” I glance back at him again. “You and I have crossed a lot of lines tonight.”

“That’s arguable,” he signs, his eyes burning fiercely. “But we’ll talk about that when we get home. Right now, I want you to tell me what’s bothering you. And don’t tell me that you’ve told me enough. You haven’t told me anything really.”

I shake my head. “I’ve told you more than I’ve told anyone.”

“Why are you so untrusting toward everyone?” he wonders. “What’s been done to you to make you so scared?”

Truth and trust. He wants me to hand it over, and oh, how I wish I could.

I bite down on my bottom lip until I draw blood, letting the foul taste of salt and rust burns at the back of my throat.

“Silence, Emery, or I will cut off your tongue,” my mother once said.

Silence, Emery, or I will silence you.

Silence, Emery, silence.

Silence, Emery.

They’re going to kill you.

Truth and trust.

Who do you believe?

I want to believe someone.

I want to be set free.

I have nothing left to lose.

My rose petals are all dying and are about to fall to the ground.

It feels like maybe Ryler will pick them up, if I let him.

“My father’s going to kill me.” My lips move on their own accord, making my decision for me. I keep my head turned away from him, too afraid that I’ll see disgust in his eyes. “When he finds out what I’ve told you—that he’s hurt me and so has Evan—they’ll both come after me.”

Ryler captures my chin in his hand and forces me to look at him. Our gazes drink each other in and then his palm leaves my skin. His hands rise in the air, but then lightning snaps in the sky and we both jump.

He lets out a shaky breath before he continues. “No one’s going to ever find out,” he assures me, one side of his mouth lifting into a lopsided grin. “My lips are sealed, and I mean it this time. What I did… agreeing to...” he trails off, gulping.

“Agree to what?”

He clenches the wheel, taking shallow breaths before elevating his hands again. “Your father told me to tell you I told him we went to the concert that night. I never told him. He just somehow knew.” He blows out a freeing breath while I struggle to breathe. “I never should have agreed to lie to you like that.”

“But how did he know?” I whisper. “How does he know everything?”

Ryler reaches across the console and gives my hand a squeeze before signing, “I don’t know how he knows stuff, but I wish I did. I want you to understand that you can trust me.” He draws an X across his heart. “I’m not Evan. I’m not your father. I’m just Ryler. The guy you first met, the one who gave you back your journal pages without reading them, who taught you how to play poker, who you gave the most amazing kiss ever—that’s still me. And what happened tonight, was simply amazing. I want more of that if you’ll let me.”

I suck my bottom lip between my teeth. Blood still lingers on it and the foul taste fills my mouth again. I want it, too, but don’t know how it’s possible. “My father won’t ever let you be with me. I’m supposed to be with Evan. It’s been predetermined since I was born.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

He looks like he means it, but again, how?

How can he think us being together, going against my father, is possible?

“Will you tell me why you work for him? My father, I mean. Maybe if you explained it to me, then I’d understand you more. Maybe I could understand why someone who seems as nice as you can work for someone as horrible as him.”

His expression drops as he tenses. I can’t, he mouths with remorse.

I look away, fighting back the tears. “It’s fine. I understand.” But I don’t. Not at all.

He grunts in frustration, the sound startling, like every sound he makes. Then his fingers find my chin again, and he urges me to look at him. I want to, but I can’t, he mouths. Not right now, anyway.

“When then?”

I don’t know, his lips move. But I’m going to find a way.

The streetlights reflect across his face, highlighting the pain in his eyes.

I nod, not knowing what else to say.

His fingers leave my face, and he retrieves a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. He pops one between his lips then cups his hands around his mouth and lights it up. Smoke immediately snakes through the air, and he cracks the window down. Wind gusts inside along with a spritz of rain.

I expect him to drive. No one’s around, but I don’t think there’s anything else left to say to each other except the truth. And neither of us seem willing to cave. Still, Ryler remains motionless, staring out the window, puffing on his cigarette.

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