Defending Deanna

Chapter 11

Ryker

That night as I try to sleep my mind drifts back to Deanna. I can't sleep because I keep listening for any sound coming from her room. If she has a nightmare, I want to be able to run back in there and wake her up before it gets too bad.

I’m still so shocked by what I learned tonight. Truthfully, it killed me to think about her with another guy so I tried not to think about it much, but it never occurred to me that what happened to her would still have so much hold over her even now.

She put on quite the act. I’m sure Maddox also had no idea all that she was still wrestling with. From what Maddox had told me, it seemed he believed that she had things together and was in a good place. Clearly that wasn't totally true.

Maddox and Deanna had a strange relationship. He was 3 years older than her, and he was 8 when their dad died. He has been taking care of and protecting her ever since. He was already overprotective a bit before she was kidnapped but after that he took that into extreme territory. Not that I blamed my friend. Maddox will never forgive himself for what happened to her. No matter how many times everyone has told him that it isn't his fault, he can't let it go and accept that. So, he's been very controlling and protective of her since.

At first, she went along with it because she needed that but as she started to try and be herself again his control grated on her. Maddox knew that to some degree, but he didn't know how to let go. This was his attempt to give her freedom by letting me move in instead of forcing his way in.

I knew it was hard for my best friend to stand back and let me take over. I can’t let them down again. I messed up when I left Deanna that day because I couldn't control myself, I won't do that again.

I hate that she is so messed up from what happened to her that she couldn't even let herself be with anyone. I hate the idea of Deanna dating someone else, but she deserves to be happy.

She had a lot going on with her past, but she could find a good guy that could help her pick up the pieces and glue her back together.

As much as I want to be that guy, I know I’m not the right guy for her. She deserves so much better. I couldn't even control myself enough to stay near her and not let her get kidnapped. I’m also not the boyfriend type. I’ve never even seen an example of a good boyfriend; I would suck at it.

Deanna was special, she deserves candlelight dinners and I’m so not that type. I am too rough and tumble for her.

I know I’m not the right guy to marry her, but maybe I can help her anyway. I care for her more than I’ve cared for anyone, and I want her to be happy. Maybe I can help put her back together a bit. Maybe I can help get her ready for her prince charming.

She trusts me and maybe I am the perfect person to show her what intimacy could feel like. I won't sleep with her but maybe I can at least show her how it feels to kiss and maybe introduce her to how sexy s*x can be.

If she could trust anyone to be open with, I could be the guy. I know her better than most and maybe I can help her explore the side for herself that she's pushed away to get through the trauma she had to live through.

It would be hard to hold back and be careful with her and I know it will be even harder to let her go when it is all over. I've known for a long time that Deanna could be the love of my life. She could be it for me, but she deserves better so I will have to step back eventually.

I know that will be tough and maybe the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do, but for her I can do anything. It’s the least I can do for her. I wasn't strong enough back then to put her first and push down my urges and protect her. I would do that now. I will help her find herself and show her how rewarding and fun intimacy can be and then I will let her go when the time came.

I’m very excited at the idea of getting to introduce her to s*x and kissing. I know it’s gonna be so fun to watch her learn how fun it can be and how good it’ll feel. It’s gonna be a rough time for me since I’m gonna make it all about her, and so that’s gonna leave me with major blue balls but the pain will be worth it to help her heal.

I’m finally able to drift to sleep with all my dirty fantasies about her running through my mind.

******

Deanna

I wake up the next morning with a headache. I groan and roll over in bed. That's why I don't drink very much. I always wake up the next morning regretting it. Once in a while when the darkness gets too much, I’ll take a few drinks to numb my thoughts, but I haven’t needed it in almost a year. I very rarely drink quite as heavily as last night, but when I got home it was either drink myself sick or crawl into a ball and wallow and I didn't want Ryker to see that side of me.

Thoughts of Ryker and the “game” we played come into my mind, and I groan again. Did we really talk about the fact that I was pathetic and couldn't even kiss a guy because I was too screwed up from what happened?

I never should have gotten drunk around him. I become way too chatty when I drink. How did I let that slip? Nobody knows how screwed up I still am except for my therapist. I don't want people to worry about me and this was not the way to get people to not worry about me. If anyone found out how much I avoided anything physical because I am still so traumatized from my captivity, they would probably pity me and hover some more.

It's not like I haven't tried to date. I have. I’ve been out with a few guys, but it just made me uncomfortable. When I feel guys eyes on me it makes me feel dirty. My captor would stare at me a lot and ogle me. It always made me so uncomfortable. If I tried to shy away or anything he would punish me since I was his and he had every right to “admire” his property. So staring made me nervous.

It was also hard to take any guy very seriously. They would talk about an exam or something and it was obvious they had never even been touched by the horror that lived inside my head all the time. It just made me feel strange and broken. There had been one memorable date where I had a bit too much to drink and maybe said a bit too much and scared the guy off. He wasn't expecting my back story. Most people didn't, but after that I just gave up. It wasn't worth the stress.

I always told myself eventually I would heal enough that I would be able to date like a normal girl. But eventually I realized that will never happen. I do get lonely some and wish that I could find someone who can understand me and not only see the broken girl inside. Someone who can make me feel safe and secure and loved. It was a weak moment of loneliness that I had mentioned my desire for someone in therapy and that’s why we decided I would try to put myself out there but I’m not sure I’m meant for normal anymore.

How will I ever live this down? Ryker who lost his virginity by choice at 14 and then probably slept with 100s of women knew that the only sort of experience in that area was traumatic and pathetic. I never wanted anyone to know that. I planned to go to my grave alone and single but with nobody the wiser as to how pathetic I was.

Now Ryker knows. He knows everything and I am mortified. The worst part is that I can't even run away because I promised not to make his guarding duty any harder and me sneaking out and jumping off a bridge so I don't have to face him would definitely be considered as making his guard duty harder.

I groan again. I don't even have anyone to blame for this mess either. I am the one that drank and then I am the one that asked the intimate question. I just wanted to make him feel as uncomfortable as I felt when he asked about my dream. I never expected him to ask me the same question.

I had been curious about him and his s*x life since I was like 12. I wanted to know every detail because unlike him. I had a huge crush on him so I couldn’t help but ask. But he didn’t see me that way or have feeling for me the way I always did for him, so I didn’t expect him to care much about my s*x life. Apparently, I had underestimated him.

And why did I have to answer him? Because he called me a wimp, and I was that same 12-year-old girl who wanted to look grownup in front of my brother’s best friend so I couldn't back down. I really should have backed down. Just this once, I could be grown up tomorrow with all my secrets, but no the alcohol took control and boom all my secrets out in the open. I don't know how I'm ever going to face him again.