“Hi,” I smile through my whisper. I’m sure I’m blushing like a teenager.
Ryker holds the door open for me, the all-American smile I’ve longed to see has returned. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
I wasn’t sure I should, honestly. But after seeing him at the market, Ryker set up residence in my head. One visit couldn’t hurt. Maybe we both need closure . . . or something. Certainly getting a restraining order and not seeing each other for ten years doesn’t count as closure.
“Manning Farms? How could I not?” I wander through the first floor of the old farmhouse, running my hands along the knotty-pine leading to the kitchen. “You’ve really done good for yourself, Ry.” Turning around, I find him leaning on the door frame.
“Thanks.” He shrugs, keeping his eyes on mine.
Walking over to the basin sink, I elevate onto my tiptoes and scan the fields through the small kitchen window. “How long did all of this take? I mean . . . how long have you been farming?”
Something changes in the air. So does his voice. “Just a few years. You know, after I got over you totally fucking me over.”
My blood runs cold as I turn to find him standing in fatigues that he wasn’t wearing when I arrived. He’s pale and sweating, just like the last night I saw him. And he’s holding a gun. My heart hammers in uneven rhythm through my chest as I consider my options for escape.
“What?” I think I should keep him talking.
“You destroyed me, Natalie—ruined my life. That little stunt you pulled in your dorm cost me everything.” He watches me from underneath his eyebrows as he takes one, two, three steps toward me.
“Ryker . . .” Pulling from my old bag-of-tricks, I try to say his name to remind him that he’s in reality, while my palms lose traction against the counter.
“All I wanted was to be a soldier, Nat . . .” My breath trips as he lifts the handle of what I guess is a pistol.
“You are a soldier, Ryker. You served—”
“You know what I mean!” he screams as the barrel of the gun stares me straight in the face for a split second. It seems to surprise him, too, and he lowers his hand back down to his hip. “See? I can’t stop hurting you. Even now. Look at yourself.” He tilts his chin toward me.
Glancing down, I find every single cut I’ve ever given myself open and bleeding down my arms and legs.
What the fuck? I have to get out of here. This isn’t real. What’s happening?
Looking back up, I find Ryker holding the gun to his head.
“Ryker. Ryker . . . don’t.” I’m panicking, begging him to stop.
“I can’t do it, Nat. Not anymore. Lucas, you, my dad . . . I’ve hurt too many people. I need it to stop.” His brow furrows as he closes his eyes and whispers something I can’t hear.
“Don’t! Ryker! Ryker!”
He pulls the trigger and a sound tears through me I’ve never heard before. I fall to my knees, landing in blood—I can’t tell if it’s coming from him or me.
“God, Ryker, no! I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry! Please . . .”
“Natalie! Wake up!” I turn around to find Eric standing by the sink, holding out his hand.
I wave my hand dismissively. “Go away!”
“Wake up. Wake up!” he says again.
My shoulders start to shake, but not from my tears.
I have to wake up . . .
In one motion I’m seated on the edge of my bed, feet touching the floor. Audibly gasping for air, my skin is damp and I’m shaking.
Holy shit.
I jump when a hand lands on my shoulder, relaxing only when I realize it’s Eric. Momentarily disoriented by the daylight barging through my windows, I glance at the clock and see it’s only three in the afternoon. I’d come in the bedroom to read for a bit and must have fallen asleep.
“Jesus Christ, Natalie, what was that?” He kneels in front of me, a look of concern on his face I’ve only seen once before.
“A dream . . . nightmare . . . did I say anything?” I realize tears are still streaking down my face. I can’t stop them.
“You were screaming for Ryker to stop.” Eric’s face twists awkwardly when he says Ryker’s name.
I nod and swallow, petitioning my nerves to stop vibrating and my heart to return to normal.
“Weird . . .” is all I can manage. There’s no way I can possibly explain that nightmare to Eric without telling him I ran into Ryker. Without telling him that the guilt I carry for ruining Ryker’s life still makes it hard to breathe some days.
“Are you going to be okay?”
Do I fucking appear to be okay?
I nod. “I just need a shower and a drink.” I chuckle more for myself than him. “We’re still on for tonight, right?”
“Right. Are you sure you’re all right? I was just heading out to help finish moving the offices, but I’ll stay—”
“No, go. It’s good.”