Chapter 24
What a freaking whirlwind of a weekend. Seeing the demands of Ryker’s past haunt him broke my heart. It never occurred to me he had any because he carries himself with no regrets. Through his eyes, I could see all his anger and pain, all the hurt and disappointment in himself for sinking so low. He demoralized himself and loathed it. I didn’t have the heart to ask him why he did it. Why, if he’s so sure of himself, would he do it?
He’s not mentioned it since the morning after, only apologizing again for yanking me back to him. Even with the evil glazing his eyes, I didn’t feel scared of him. Just scared for him.
We walk through the door and he takes my bags down the hall to my bedroom. I reach in the fridge for something to drink but it’s interrupted by my phone ringing.
“I’m starting to feel like you’re hiding from us,” my mom says.
“No, Mom. I’ve just been really busy.”
“That boyfriend of yours is taking a lot of my little girl’s time,” she says like I don’t already know it. “I’m still waiting on the day we get to meet him. Why haven’t we met him? Is he there?”
Lie or not to lie to Mom? I hesitate. “He is.”
“Then you need to do that video chat thing we’ve done before.”
I look to Ryker who has made himself quite comfortable on the couch and has no idea how afraid I am of this moment.
“Whitney?”
“Maybe another time, Mom.”
“Now is as good of a time as any other. Dan? How did you do the video call thing?” There’s shuffling noise.
Seconds later my phone beeps and I’m forced to accept the video call with a pulse rocketing in my chest.
Dad and his handsome silver strands cram into the frame with Mom, who is still denying the fact her hair is changing colors and keeps it auburn.
“There’s my princess,” Dad says.
“Hey, Daddy.”
“Where’s this boyfriend of yours you’ve been dating forever and keeping away from us?” Mom says loudly, looking into the background.
I glance to Ryker and he’s grinning, amused as hell.
“Mom…” I grumble.
She gasps. “He isn’t as good looking as you’ve made him out, is he? It’s okay, Whitney. As long as he’s good to you.”
“Mom!”
“Diane,” Dad laughs.
Ryker is getting a kick out of this. He sits up and pats the couch beside him. There isn’t any getting out of this now.
I exhale and drop beside him. “Mom. Dad. This is Ryker.”
You’d think I would be more excited about this, but I’m not. There are things I’ve omitted to them about him because…well, I know they won’t understand.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Young,” Ryker smiles.
“You’ve taken all my daughter’s time. What do you have to say for yourself?” Mom tries to sound serious, but instead snickers.
She’s never been good at keeping a straight face. When I was younger and she would fuss at me for something, I would intentionally make funny faces to have her crack. I learned young, you can’t get in as much trouble when your parents crack. But this also changed the roles. Dad became the disciplinarian. And him fussing at me broke my heart more than anything. I hated for him to be disappointed in me.
“That I’m enjoying it, and I also apologize,” he replies.
“You need to talk her into bringing you here for dinner,” Mom says. “Whitney, you need to bring him to dinner. Ryker, honey, are you allergic to any foods?”
I snort at the “mom” question. “I’ve been busy, Mom,” I remind her.
“You’re never too busy for us, Princess,” Dad says. “It’s quite an interesting hairdo you have.”
“Oh my God,” I mumble dropping my head into my hand. “You wonder why I haven’t brought him around.”
“What’d I say? I’m just asking the boy about his hair,” Dad says.
“Dan, stop it. You’re embarrassing her.” She smacks dads arm. “You do have pretty eyes. Dan, did you see them? Whitney said you did.”
“Come on,” I whine my groan.
Ryker chuckles.
My parents are incredibly supportive and caring. They love and support me with all their might, but they’ll embarrass the shit out of me in a heartbeat without a care in the world.
“Ryker, right?” Dad asks. “Tell me about yourself.”
I jump in with a rush to divert the conversation. “Can’t we save this for when you meet him in person? Why badger him to death over the phone?”
“What do you do for a living, son?” Dad ignores me.
“He owns a gym, dad. I’ve already told you that,” I interject and immediately Ryker’s eyes cut to me. I think he’s figured it out…
“He is pretty buff. You said he was muscular,” Mom says. “Let’s set up a dinner for next weekend or the weekend after. Whichever works the best. We’re always home, except Dan has golf things, but that’s during the week,” Mom rambles.
With very clear intent, Ryker says the words I feared. “I’ll be unable to since I have a fight coming up.”
My breath gets caught in my throat. My stomach drops along with my mouth, and I slump my shoulders. Dammit.
Mom’s eyes widen and Dad’s jaw sets with a hard stare. “A fight?” Mom gasps. “Why on earth are we fighting? When did we start planning out fights? Back when I was younger, we’d—”
“You’re a fighter?” Dad’s tone is stern and straightforward.
Ryker nods. “Yes.”
“Mom, what time do you want us—” I start, but Dad shuts me up.
“Whitney, cut the shit and quit interrupting.” He chastises me with so much harshness, I blink back the tears he just threatened. “What kind of fighter? A boxer?”
“No, sir. I’m an MMA fighter,” Ryker tells him and I want to grab the phone and hang up on the conversation. Ryker has no idea how cold my dad can be but he’s about to get the full wrath.
Dad clears his throat. “Whitney failed to mention that. You own a gym too?”
Ryker nods.
“You own a gym and you’re a fighter? Sounds like a busy schedule. How exactly does Whitney fit into your fancy picture?”
“I’ve managed to balance everything. We work out together, spend our down time together, and she comes with me to my events.”
Dad’s silver eyebrows furrow. “You take my daughter to your fights?”
“I have.”
“And she has to watch you get hurt and all the violence unfold in front of her? It’s a bit selfish of you to make her do that, don’t you think?”
“Dad. He—”
“I don’t force her to do anything, sir,” Ryker interrupts with resent. “She’s not coerced in any way. She supports me in the sport I’m passionate about.”
“What happens if she’s put in a compromising situation?”
“I’m there to handle it.”
“And if you’re not?”
“She’s never left alone. My brother stays by her side when I’m not. She’s in good hands.”
Dad’s disparaging glare causes me to swallow hard. “Whitney’s a good girl. Always has been. And I know when she cares for someone, she puts them first, which is why I’m sure we don’t hear from her often. She’s been busy keeping up with your schedule and forgetting her roots. I’m going to level with you, Ryker. I’m not too keen about my daughter dating a man like you. She’s softhearted and caring. She has a heart like her mother’s, compassionate and empathetic. You obviously don’t know my daughter the way you should. Having her watch you? You’ve apparently not gotten too badly hurt if she’s still beside you. One spit of blood and you’ll have her in tears.”
“Si—”
“I wasn’t done,” Dad scolds and heat rises to my cheeks. “She might be tolerant, but she has strength. That she gets from me. I’m positive you have a strict schedule with all types of sorts. I’d hate to know my daughter is missing out on things because she has to adhere to your lifestyle. She might tolerate your selfishness, but I don’t. I don’t want my daughter hurt, mentally or physically.”
Ryker digs his fingers into his knee, his expression resting with a sheen icy-cold stare. He takes a shaky breath. “You have nothing to worry about. I don’t get in the way of the things she enjoys.”
“Do you sleep around on her?”
“Dad!” I lash out. “This conversation has gone on long enough. It’s over. I love you and mom. I’ll call you later.”
I end the call. Half of me wants to cry from embarrassment. The other half is shaking with anger. “I am so, so sorry.”
“You didn’t tell them? Are you ashamed I’m a fighter?” His tone is sharp.
“No. I’m not ashamed. I just wasn’t ready for my dad’s reaction.”
“How well do you adhere to your parents’ standards?” There’s a glimmer of concern in his tone. “Daddy’s little girl? He despises me.”
I titter. “It’s the initial shock, that’s all. He’ll warm up to you. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
He studies me for a moment. “You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, right?”
“I know I’m safe with you.”
He tugs me onto his lap and kisses me so softly. Then he pulls back meeting my eyes. “I can’t promise you how my fights are going to be. They’re unpredictable in every aspect and there’s always a chance things can go wrong. Things can get bloody. I can get pretty banged up. Are you going to run away from me again?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He grunts closing his eyes. “I hate how much control you have over me. Your feelings are my feelings. You’re entirely paralyzing.”
I kiss his chin. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
When his eyes open, they’re swirling with emotion. “You have too much of me, but I keep wanting to give you more. I’m not perfect by no means, but I want to be your perfect.”
He wraps my neck and pulls me to his mouth. His tongue sweeps against mine, and he groans, pulling me down into his erection.
Internally, I know he struggles with balancing sensitivity and possessiveness. Too much sentimental emotions turn him into an aggressive virile madman while too much commanding aggression knocks him down a notch or two. It’s a constant battle.
He’s turbulent, stuck in a purgatory of heart and emotions, good and bad, fighting to remain arrogant and stoic.