Promise Me Darkness (29 page)

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Authors: Paige Weaver

BOOK: Promise Me Darkness
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I wiped my eyes free of tears before glancing behind me. Ryder was stalking toward us, the anger on his face speaking volumes.

“What the hell are you doing, Gavin?” he asked, callously.

I took a few steps away from Gavin, knowing that Ryder had a short temper and I seemed to be the cause of it most of the time.

“Just talking, Ryder, you need something?” Gavin asked, innocently.

Ryder’s jaw clenched and unclenched several times as his cold eyes glared at us. I hoped he couldn’t see the remains of my tears. The last thing I wanted was for him to know how hurt I was.

“Dad needs you,” Ryder said. “Now!”

“Okay.” Gavin reached over and rubbed my arm affectionately. “Remember what I said, Maddie. You need me, you know where to find me.” With a smirk at Ryder, he walked away.

Ryder looked at me, his eyes frosty. “What was that about?”

I folded my arms over my chest, protecting myself. “Nothing. We were just talking.”

I started to walk by him, afraid I would either burst into tears or start screaming at any moment.

His hand snapped out, grabbing my upper arm to stop me.

“Maddie?”

“Yes?”

He swallowed hard, taking his baseball cap off and running his hand through his sweat–soaked hair.

“Gavin’s a good guy.”

Oh, no, he’s not going to suggest….

“And any woman would be lucky to have him…”

I tried to interrupt him.
I couldn’t listen to this.

“But I’m still here,” he looked at me deeply, “and I don’t plan on leaving.”

I stood still, frozen by his words. He slapped his hat back on his head and pulled the brim low. Without looking at me again, he walked away, leaving me with those words ringing in my ears.

Maybe there was hope.

~~~~

I was still dreaming of that hope days later when a stranger approached the house from the road. I was sitting with my dad on the porch, enjoying the warm sun, when I saw him. He looked dirty and thin. He appeared unarmed but looks could be deceiving. We had learned that the hard way.

A safe distance from the house, Ryder’s dad stopped him with a loaded shotgun. I saw them exchange a few heated words but they were too far away for me to hear.

“You two, get in here!” Janice hissed from the doorway, yanking my attention away from the stranger.

I quickly helped my dad to his feet. As I was helping him toward the door, a movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Ryder and Gavin were striding purposefully toward the stranger. Both had shotguns in their hands, looking ready to go to war.

Ryder’s hard eyes flickered over to me, rapidly moving down my body before glancing away. He stopped feet away from the stranger, his stance wide. I could see the tautness in his shoulders and the rigid muscles of his back. The threat was real and he was ready.

Inside, my hands shook as I lowered my dad into a kitchen chair. Hurrying over to the window, I peeked outside.

“Get away from the window, Maddie!” Janice whispered frantically.

I ignored her, Ryder’s safety the only thing on my mind. The men were tense, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. I could see Ryder’s hand tighten around the shotgun he carried at his side.

Abruptly, the man turned and walked away. I let out a sigh of relief but the fright didn’t go away. Maybe we weren’t as safe here as I thought.

Chapter Twenty–Six

One day rolled into another. I tried not to worry about Eva and Brody, all my friends at school, or the health of my father. Janice reminded me many times to take one day at a time and not to worry about the future. I wish it were that simple but my future looked bleak.

One afternoon, I was helping Janice lay out food for lunch when Ryder walked into the kitchen. My body immediately started humming, alive and awake as if it had been in a deep sleep until now.

“Mom, can you pack two lunches for me?” he asked, reaching around me to pluck an apple from a basket. According to Janice, this was the last batch of apples from her garden. After this, there would be no fresh fruit until next year.

“Sure, hon, are y’all still working?” Janice asked.

“No, I want to take Maddie home with me for a while.”

He wanted to be alone with me?

Janice’s eyes swung from Ryder to me, surprised. “Give me a second and I’ll fix you two something.”

From under my lashes, I peeked up at Ryder. He towered over me, making me feel small and vulnerable. This close, I could see the heat in his eyes, reminding me that we hadn’t been alone together in days.

“That okay?” he asked when he caught me staring at him.

“Yes,” I answered.
Like I would say no?

After Janice gathered some food for us, we headed toward the barn. The sun beat down merciless, making heat waves ripple around us. As we walked, grasshoppers jumped out of our path, making noises as they leaped away.

“Are we riding horses?” I asked, matching my stride to his.

“Nope,” Ryder answered, giving me a smile that could melt a girl’s heart.

“So what are we…?”

He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. “Bronco.”

“What? It still runs?” I asked, surprised.

When he smiled and nodded, I automatically threw my arms around him. I was happy, knowing how much he loved that Bronco. From the time he was sixteen, he had spent hours working on it, pouring every dime he earned into rebuilding it. I was glad it survived the EMP, it meant that much to him.

My happiness only increased when Ryder slowly wrapped his arms around me. The innocent hug turned into so much more as his hands slowly moved lower to rest on my hips. His fingers spread wide to grasp me tightly, drawing me closer. I breathed in deeply, loving the smell of him. Three simple days had me missing him so damn much that it hurt.

When he let go of me, my body protested. I took a deep breath and tried to slow my pounding heart as he walked away.

When I finally got ahold of myself, I followed him into the huge barn. It held two tractors, a horse trailer, Ryder’s old Bronco, and his dad’s 1950s Ford truck. Various farm equipment and feed were placed haphazardly around also.

In one area of the barn was a room, locked up tight against intruders. I knew that behind that door was an arsenal of survival supplies. From packages of toilet paper to boxes of nonperishable food, the room was packed. Bags of wheat, rice, and beans were stored among cases of bottled water. I also knew that beneath the floor was a safe room complete with enough supplies to last a couple of days. When someone said Roger and Janice were survivalists, they had no idea to what degree.

I climbed into the smooth leather seat of the Bronco at the same time Ryder took a seat behind the wheel. I held my breath as he turned the key in the ignition. The roar of the motor was a wonderful sound to hear. After backing out of the barn, we were on our way.

Ryder lived further back on the property. It was about a mile from his parent’s home, connected by a dirt driveway. They couldn’t see his house, he couldn’t see theirs. He had built it with that in mind. Years ago, he told me that he didn’t want them knowing about his late night visitors. I cringed, remembering that now.

The house looked the same as the last time I saw it; a one–story ranch house made of rugged Texas stone. A barn sat a short distance away, full of various farm equipment.

Ryder unlocked the door and let me walk in first. All the windows were open so it was hot but not stifling. Natural sunlight streamed in, lighting up the home brightly.

It wasn’t a big house but just the right size for him. It had two bedrooms, a living room, one bathroom, and a small kitchen. The place was a typical bachelor pad. His living room contained a leather couch and matching chair. Over the stone fireplace hung a large flat–screen TV. No pictures were on the walls and the place was empty of knickknacks. Last time I was here, there were empty beer bottles everywhere. At least, someone had cleaned the place up.

“Let’s eat on the back porch. It’ll be cooler,” Ryder said, leading the way through the kitchen to the backdoor.

What I loved about his home was right outside that door. Large mature trees surrounded a huge wooden deck and a narrow flowing creek. The water could be heard running along the creek bed while the tree limbs above blew gently in the wind. It was so secluded and quiet that it was easy to imagine we were the only two people left in the world.

We sat down on the steps leading to the edge of the water. His outer thigh brushed against mine intimately as we sat side by side.

“What am I doing here, Ryder?” I asked, squinting my eyes against the sun to look at him.

His old ball cap was pulled low so I couldn’t see his eyes, just his freshly shaven jaw. I watched as he clenched his teeth then swung his eyes around to look at me. Heat was still there, lingering around the blue irises.

“Eat your sandwich, Maddie. You’ve lost weight,” he said gruffly, looking back at the creek. His shoulders flexed as he leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees. The memory of grabbing those shoulders as we made love made me hot and bothered. I quickly looked away, forcing myself to take a bite of sandwich. After my last bite, he stood up.

“Let’s go.”

“What are we doing?” I asked.

“Target practice,” he answered, walking toward the door. “After that stranger showed up, I decided you need it.”

I was here for target practice?
Really? Was I naïve to think he just wanted to be alone with me?

“I don’t need to practice, Ryder. I’m a perfect shot, you know that,” I complained, really wanting to practice on something else with him.

He glanced back at me as he walked down his hallway. “You haven’t practiced in four years. It’s about time you did.”

I tried not to look in his bedroom when we passed it. Continuing down the hallway, we entered the spare bedroom where he kept a safe and a small desk.

He started to unlock the safe but stopped and looked over at me. “If something happens, the combination is 11–19–54.”

I hated when he said stuff like that.
If I needed the combination that meant he wasn’t around and if he wasn’t around…well, I just didn’t want to think about it.

“You can use this one,” he said, pulling out a 9mm pistol and a box of bullets.

“A handgun? Really? Why not a shotgun like I always practice with?”

He started loading the gun, answering my question at the same time. “A shotgun is fine but a pistol…a pistol can be concealed and it’s better in close quarters.”

The thought of killing or injuring someone sent a chill down my spine.

“You know I don’t like them,” I argued, following him back through the house to the porch.

He sat some empty cans down near the creek and hopped back on the porch to hand me the gun.

“You need to feel comfortable with it.”

I took the thing with disgust, as if it were a dead animal he was trying to hand me.

Giving me a frustrated look, his voice dropped low, “Maddie, humor me and do this,”

I sighed and carefully aimed at a can. He moved behind me, spreading his legs on each side of me so that I was cocooned against him. Wrapping his arms around me, he placed his hands on top of mine and lifted the gun slightly higher. My body flared to life. I tried to focus on the target and ignore the rapid beating of my heart.

He dropped his hands away and took a step back. “Remember to take a breath and let it out slowly before you take the shot, just like I taught you.”

I nodded and filled my lungs with air. Holding it a second, I let out my breath slowly then squeezed the trigger. The recoil threw me back but Ryder’s palm was instantly there, on the small of my back, preventing me from falling further. His hand moved lower, resting at the top of my bottom, familiar and warm.

“You hit it dead on,” he said, looking at the fallen can and dropping his hand away. “Five more rounds and then you’re done. We need to conserve our bullets.”

By the time I finished, he was satisfied that I knew what I was doing. Handing the gun over to him, I watched as his large hands expertly handled the gun, carefully checking the chamber and slipping the safety on. When he went inside to return the gun to the safe, I took a seat on the porch steps and waited.

The heat was bearing down with vengefulness as the sun rose higher in the cloudless sky. Sweat was making my hair stick to my scalp and my clothes damp with perspiration. I eyed the creek with longing. The last time I had a bath was two days ago. I really needed to get in that water.

I glanced back at the house. Ryder was still inside somewhere.
Should I?
It wouldn’t be the first time I bathed around him and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Modesty seemed to be a thing of the past since our bathroom now meant the bushes and a shower now meant an outdoor spray down of water. Plus, I would rather bathe here, when it was just the two of us rather than outside his parent’s home where anyone could walk in on me.

Jumping up before I changed my mind, I hurried inside. I wasn’t sure where Ryder was so I went into the bathroom and gathered his shampoo and soap. Before I left, I grabbed the towel hanging on a hook behind the door.

“I’m taking a bath!” I yelled over my shoulder before walking out the back door.

At the edge of the porch, I quickly took my clothes off and folded them neatly into a pile. I hurried into the water. It was cool against my overheated skin. I quickly began to soap my body and hair as best as I could with a broken finger. The memory of Ryder doing that for me had my skin overheating all over again.

As I was washing the soap out of my hair, I heard the back door slam shut. I swung around, my breath catching.

Ryder halted mid–stride. He held two red plastic cups in his hands and looked ready to drop them in surprise.

I couldn’t hold back a grin when I saw the shocked look on his face. There wasn’t much I could do to blow Ryder’s mind and render him speechless but I guess I just did.

“I couldn’t resist a bath,” I said at the same time that he said, “I was searching for vodka,” in a hoarse voice as he stared at me in awe.

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