We look out for our own. And Graycie is mine.
“I’ve got you, Angel,” I coo as I shoulder my way into Ryker’s office, not at all surprised to see him sitting behind his desk.
His eyes soften as he looks at the woman in my arms. I’m able to pull the card out of my pocket and toss it on his desk before I sit on the couch and position my woman on my lap until she’s comfortable.
Graycie buries her face a little deeper into my neck and I can feel the collision of every tear as it falls against my skin. It makes me want to beat my chest and go on a killing spree.
The anguish in her sobs make my chest ache. This woman has the power to build me up, but her sadness is tearing me down at the moment.
When Ryker opens the card, his gaze snaps up to meet mine. I can see the violence there, the promise of pain, and the same questions I have.
“Angel,” I murmur, my lips skimming her temple, “tell me. I can’t protect you unless I know what we’re dealing with.”
“I was stupid,” her words are hoarse and she swallows hard while tugging at my clothing even more as if she wants to crawl inside of me. If only I could make that happen for her.
As much as I want to push her to talk, I need to let her set the pace. It’s her fears she’s facing which can’t be rushed.
She pulls back enough to look up into my eyes and study my face. I don’t know what she sees there, but her body melts into mine as if she’s just too damn tired to hold herself together anymore. Tears are still streaming down her face. As gorgeous as she is right now, I don’t think she would appreciate me saying it.
When she glances over at Ryker, she gnaws on her bottom lip for a moment before letting out a shaky sigh.
“I used to have a flourishing career in marketing. I had a big friend group, some from college and some from before. Things were going so well,” her voice is wistful as she looks into a past that only she can see.
My gut is screaming at me to brace myself, but I’m sure it won’t be enough. Not with the haunted look on my woman’s face.
“My parents were never really around, and they always treated me like an inconvenience. I was raised by people they hired, some of whom never let me forget that they were only there to collect a paycheck.”
“Motherfuckers,” Ryker bites out under his breath.
I’m frozen, completely unable to say a damn thing. The idea of someone, anyone, not seeing what a treasure Graycie is feels like a knife twisting in my gut.
“As an adult, they loved to parade me around like a show pony.” Her lip curls up in disgust, her words venomous, “As if they had anything to do with how I turned out.” Her eyes slide closed and she shakes her head slightly before looking at me again. “The fact that my parents introduced me to Sylvester should have been the only warning I needed.”
I think I might throw up.
But I swallow down the bile and hope the nod I give her is encouraging.
“Now I know that he was using the classic abuser playbook. He isolated me from my friends. He put down my job and my abilities until I questioned myself and could barely function. He would berate me and then tell me all the ways he was the only one who could ever see me and not be disgusted, or how he was the only one who could love me,” her voice cracks.
My hands tighten on her as if it’ll be enough to keep her shattered pieces in place. I know it won’t be.
“It was verbal at first, the abuse,” her voice is so small I have to strain to hear her.
“Did he put his hands on you?” Ryker snarls the question and when we look toward him, his teeth are bared and something primal, something protective flashes in his eyes so fiercely that I almost feel bad for this Sylvester guy.
Almost.
Graycie swallows hard and it’s really all the confirmation we need. “It was a slap here and there at first,” she admits. Her eyes close and she reaches for the hem of her shirt before twisting just enough to allow us to see her back as she pulls it up. The raised scars that crisscross her back have me sucking in a sharp breath. Ryker wheezes from behind his desk. “It didn’t stay that way. Sylvester loved the sound of the whip as it flew through the air and the moment right before it hit.”
“Angel,” I choke on the word, wishing this was all a bad dream while knowing it’s very real. “Never again,” I vow.
Her hazel eyes are sad when she looks up at me and then back to the card still sitting on my President’s desk. “Seems like hefound me. I probably should have kept moving, but when I found Dogwood Ridge, I didn’t want to leave. It feels like home here.”
“You are home here,” I insist.
Her shoulder slump, her words filled with a deep sorrow, “I don’t want to bring this kind of danger to my home, to the one place where I’ve felt accepted and safe. I won’t.”
“Yes,” Ryker drawls, “you will.”