“I’m not threatenin’ you, I’m promisin’ you. Talk or I walk.”
Ryder stared at me for a long moment, and I knew he was thinking about whether I was worth telling the information that he was purposely trying to keep private. That told me it was a secret, a very important secret.
“Last chance, Ryder,” I warned. “Talk, or I’m gettin’ me sister and neither you or your brother will have anythin’ to do with us ever again.”
He curled his lips up in frustration. “I’m trying to think of a way to explain it to you without scaring you.”
I blinked. “Why would it scare me?”
“Because,” he began, “my life is a world away from yours. You have no idea the things I’ve done, or that I’m still doing.”
I took a hesitant step back and it made Ryder grin.
“Does it scare you to know I’m not straight laced like you think I am?”
What the hell did that mean?
My heart began to beat faster as I recalled the many conversations we’ve had about his job. I never got any information when I asked questions about it, Ryder would seduce me and all would be forgotten.
“You don’t scare me, Ryder,” I replied honestly.
An emotion flashed across his eyes, and his shoulders sagged, his tough demeanour vanishing.
“I know, sweetness, and that’s why I want to word what I have to say correctly. You’re very important to me, and I don’t want you to be scared of me. Not ever.”
I tilted my head to the side. “So ease me into it.”
He snorted. “This isn’t a conversation you can ease someone into, all of it is… heavy.”
I sat down on his bed, and patted the empty spot next to me.
“I’ve got all night.”
Ryder came to my side and settled down on the bed next to me. He reached over and took my hands in his. “Before I say anything, please know that I don’t want to do what I do, I just have no choice.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, but I nodded in understanding.
“Back in New York, my brothers and I, we were raised on a compound run by gangsters.”
I was waiting for a laugh, or a ‘gotcha’ to follow that bizarre statement, but nothing followed.
I blinked. “Wow.”
Ryder gauged my reaction for some indication of what I was thinking, but I knew he would draw a blank because I didn’t even know what I was thinking.
“My father was one of those gangsters,” he continued. “And he was co-boss along with a friend of his called Marco Miles. Both of them built up their empire from scratch, and by the time I was twenty they had a hand in everything from prostitution to drugs and weapons. You wouldn’t think it, but it was a very secure business they had going as nearly all law enforcement was on their payroll. The Feds were the only ones not under their thumbs, and when there were a few runs in with honest cops, a payoff to the chief of the NYPD cleared that up quickly. It was a surprisingly safe environment to grow up in, but it was in no way normal. A prime example would be for the twins’ thirteenth birthday me and my brothers gifted them escorts because we felt bad about them having to jerk off all the time.”
I felt my mouth fall open, and Ryder winced.
“I know, and honestly, it’s as bad as it sounds, but that was the norm for us. Girls, girls and more girls. Guns, drugs, violence, verbal abuse… it was all we ever knew because we were exposed to it twenty-four-seven.”
I blinked. “You’ve done drugs?”
Ryder didn’t look proud of it, but he nodded. “Yeah, I’ve dabbled in a lot of different ones… probably any major one you can think of, but I never hit up enough to form an addiction. I only did it once in a while at parties or some shit like that. I gave it up after a while and was a hard ass about it with all of my brothers to make sure they never touched the stuff, and they didn’t. Thank God.”
I knew the relief he felt, because for years I prayed that I raised Bronagh right so she would know never to touch drugs, and I was blessed that she was a good kid who steered cleared of that mess.
“While I was using, I was very careful about what I consumed, that natural paranoia was instilled in me from an early age. I was aware of everything around me, and I noticed everything… it’s why Marco picked me for my job after my parents… died.”
I knew his parents died, I just didn’t know how, it was something Ryder was also mute about. I didn’t want to pry because I knew from personal experience how that felt.
“You don’t have to talk about them if you don’t want to.”
“I do, it’s just hard talking about all of this shit.” Ryder rubbed his face with his hand. “Right, okay. There’s no casual way to say this, but they were murdered by Marco.”
I stared at Ryder again, not being able to believe what he was saying was truth, but I saw in his eyes that he wasn’t joking. A family fucking friend murdered his parents! I couldn’t begin to imagine what that must have been like to go through.