So many rules.
She and Mila were the spitting image of their mother, and her dad had been afraid that she was going to turn out like her mom. He had forbidden her from going out with friends, he’d wanted to stop her from playing sports, he’d wanted to control the way she dressed, and what she ate. He wanted to control everything about her.
The control issues were one thing, but it had been the threats that really started scaring her. The punishment for every perceived infraction of the rules was threats that if she didn't start complying, he was going to have her committed. He started watching her constantly, many nights she would wake up to find him standing in her room, above her bed, staring at her.
Rylla had been scared, terrified. She didn't want to be committed but living in that house was like being a prisoner. She hadn’t known how far her father intended to take things. The night she woke up to find him in a room with a knife in his hand had been the final straw. That day she had packed her bags and fled.
She had told her siblings what was going on, but they hadn’t believed her. They’d thought it was just the trauma of their mom’s murder attempt, and had told her to be patient and things would settle down. But how could she be patient when every night she went to bed afraid that she would never wake up again because her father would kill her?
Six months after her mother was committed, she ran.
As hard as it had been living on the streets at just sixteen years old if everything with her parents hadn’t happened, she would never have met Josh and had Elianna, so it was hard to regret it all.
It hurt that Mila and Elliot hadn’t believed her, she’d reached out for help and they had rebuffed her. Because she hadn’t been able to let go of it, she had never mended fences with her sister, and now she might never get a chance.
Rylla stared at her phone, she didn't want to lose her sister like she had lost her husband and daughter.
She didn't want to lose Nate either.
He was a good guy and if they both set their fears aside then maybe they could be happy together. She had to accept that being happy, that still living her life, didn't mean that she had stopped loving Josh and Elianna, and it didn't mean that she would forget them. It just meant that she was still alive, and she was lonely, and wanted someone to share the rest of her life with. That person really could be Nate.
Last night he had talked with her for hours, then slept on her couch because she had insisted she couldn’t go to bed and wanted to watch movies instead. Even though she had been ignoring him for fifteen months, things between them had been so comfortable. That hurt and humiliation that she had been clinging to had been washed away in that first kiss. She knew he meant it when he said that saying no when she asked him out didn't have anything to do with her. He had been trying to apologize and explain for months and she had been the one to keep shutting him down. Yet he hadn’t stopped, he’d fought for her. And last night when she really needed someone, he had been there.
As if he could read her thoughts, there was a knock at her bedroom door and a moment later he appeared.
“You awake?” he whispered loudly.
“Mmmhmm.”
Nate came in and perched on the edge of her bed, one large hand resting on her hip. She liked the feel of it there. It was heavy and reassuring and gave her something to tether her. “How’re you doing?”
She just stared up at him. She wassotired. She felt completely drained, utterly exhausted. Not just right now, but always. Most days she came home so worn out that she ate dinner then collapsed into bed immediately after that. It wasn't her demanding and sometimes emotionally draining job, or her vigorous exercise regime, but because of the immense effort it took to portray the person she wanted others to see her as.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Rylla.” Nate’s understanding eyes assessed her.
Maybe she didn't have to, but it was habit. She knew that Naomi saw through her act but that didn't stop her from putting it on every day. But maybe, possibly, with Nate could be a safe place where she could let down her guard. She reached for his hand and squeezed it because right now, her throat was too tight to talk.
Nate squeezed back then lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “Matthew is here,” he told her.
She bolted upright. “Bad news?”
“He didn't say that it was.”
“Good news?”
“He didn't say that either. I think he just stopped by to give you an update.”
Like he promised he would. Her partner really was a great guy. She was already dressed so she gently tugged her hand from Nate’s and climbed out of bed. As soon as she was on her feet, he reclaimed her hand. It was sweet and intimate, and it had been so long since she had just held hands, that her eyes misted again. So he wouldn’t see that she was almost crying, Rylla kept her head down as they walked downstairs.
“It’s okay to cry, Rylla.”
That tugged the corners of her lips up into a small smile. “You’re a mind reader now, huh?”
“Yep,” Nate agreed shooting her a crooked grin. He really was pretty adorable, on top of being unearthly level hot.
As soon as she saw Matthew, her mind snapped back into cop mode. “Do you know something?”
“We have someone in custody,” her partner told her.