The Syndicate’s Bride

Chapter4

Vanessa

“What the f**k?” I muttered at the empty bathroom.

“He’s not even here,” I said exasperated. Shaking my head, I slammed the door shut and went over to the bed.

Of course he’s a liar too. I thought. He was an arrogant, cold-blooded stuck up jerk who cared about only himself. I wondered why a short harmonious time spent at dinner made me forget the brute’s personality.

I laid flat on the bed with a sigh of relief. At least, in his absence I didn’t have to share a bed with him tonight.

Thank Christ.

I was worried he had an allergic reaction, or a race injury relapse, or worse of all, poisoned, but seeing as he had the energy to lie, he must be fine.

And if he wasn’t fine, it was best he stayed on his own and figure it out himself. From the rumours I’d heard about him, I knew what he was capable of when angry and wasn’t ready to be around his hot temper.

Just as I was still mulling over the dinner incident, the room door swung open and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

I quickly sat up just in time to see Ryan scanning the hallway before entering the room and locking the door.

I looked between him and the door, is it safe to be locked in here with him? Especially as he seemed as displeased as he had been about an hour ago.

He stopped at the edge of the bed. “I’ll take the left, you take the right,” he said flatly. “Cross the line and I won’t hesitate to kill you. You know what I’m capable of.”

What’s up his ass?

Knowing better than to give a smart ass reply, I simply nodded and he turned away.

Knowing he could snap at anytime, I kept my guard up, watching his every movement cautiously.

Without acknowledging my presence – or maybe he just didn’t care – he pulled his shirt off, making his back muscles visible and well within my eye sight.

His muscles flexed under his movement, showing just how well toned he was, and his honey skin glowed under the low room lights. For the first time I realized just how tall he was and with his muscles, he looked to be about 6’3 at least.

He looked to the side, scanning the room for something and bringing his side profile into view. There was no denying how strikingly attractive he was and maybe if he wasn’t such a bastard, I would have fallen for him.

Such waste of good looks.

Keeping to his words, he wordlessly turned off the lights and laid on the left side of the bed, making sure to keep as much distance away from me.

I had no issue with it, in fact, I was grateful. I never had any intention of cuddling with him, even just for appearance sake. That was his idea.

With a final sigh, I closed my eyes and drifted into a deep sleep.

***

“Mom!” I screamed but it did nothing to stop the flames from spreading.

“Take her!” my mother screamed. “You can come back for me if you find the chance, but take Vanessa with you.”

The guard hesitated but his protest died on his tongue at the sound of another explosion in the house which only fanned the flames.

“Go!” She hurried, breaking into fits of coughs.

I wriggled in the guards arms as I stKavand over his shoulder trying to reach for my mother.

“Mummy?” I cried.

Her lips trembled. “I’ll be out soon, okay? I promise.”

I nodded and stopped wriggling in the guard’s arms. She promised me she’d be out, and mom always kept her promise.

But just as the guard stepped out the house with me in his arms, the house exploded.

Half asleep, I groaned in my sleep, too afraid to open my eyes and too afraid to return to that nightmare.

My eyes stung with tears I refused to let fall, and my chest twisted in agony. I coiled myself into a foetus like position as I silently sobbed, my mother’s name a prayer on my lips.

A gentle hand rested on my back, switching between drawing circles and patting my back. Subconsciously, I paid attention to the hand’s rhythm, forcing my mind away from the nightmare and focusing on my breathing.

Soon I was breathing fine again and sleep began to overwhelm me. Without realising, I quietly passed out with the gentle hand still caressing my back.

Ryan

It was a few minutes past one in the morning when I woke up to Vanessa’s tear filled moans. Confused at first, I turned to her, scooting a little closer to her side of the bed where she tossed slightly.

She hugged her knees to her chest, holding onto the child like pose as if it would keep her safe from her nightmares. She muttered something under her breath like a fervent prayer.

“Mom.”

I sighed in immediate understanding. In the course of the engagement, father had given me some information about the Logans, one of which being that Mrs. Logan had died about eighteen years ago in a fire accident.

I imagined how Vanessa, as little as she was at the time, must have found it difficult to cope with the sudden loss of a parent.

No one outside such experience really knew the trauma that came with such loss or the endless tears and anger you just couldn’t rid yourself off.

But I could understand.

Vanessa reminded me of myself in that moment, coiled up at a corner wishing for the pain to go away, for the nightmares to cease and for praying for her mother to return. But it was impossible. A loss like that couldn’t be merely erased by wishful thinking.

Without thinking, I reached for her back, rubbing circles around it in an attempt to calm her down. Almost immediately, she reacted to my touch, trying to regulate her breathing until she eventually calmed down.

As she eventually fell asleep to the warmth of my touch, for the first time since my mother’s passing, the little boy in me who cried day and night in isolation was comforted.

***