Reveal (Wicked Ways #2)(23)

“He’s talking about Lucy, isn’t he?” Archer whispers and then squeezes my hand atop the table as the tears well in my eyes.

I don’t nod, and I don’t respond, because I can’t. My eyes are fixed on Ryker, and my heart is trying to start beating again after he cracked and bruised every part of it.

Why do I suddenly want him to put it back together again?

“In the past—before Elle—I would have walked past the family. Maybe the next time I was looking for a place to donate to, I’d remember the mom struggling. I’d think how she might need some help and throw money toward her cause every once in a while. It would allow me to say, I’m charitable—to get the tax write-off—but it’s not like I really knew anyone who was affected by it.” He holds his hand up. “It was Elle’s caretaker who called me on the carpet about that. How most of us who can pay five thousand a plate to be here have no problem writing checks, but we never really take the time to see the good our money provides. Now don’t get me wrong—I’m asking you to write your checks tonight and transfer your funds. I’d be a horrible keynote speaker if I said otherwise . . . but Elle changed me.”

He may shrug nonchalantly, but when he looks up from the podium, his eyes lock with mine across the distance. The moment is brief, but his look says so much more than his words. You changed me too.

That’s what I see in them.

That’s what I hear in the words he’s not speaking.

If I thought my emotions had been churning nonstop from everything with Ryker, they are like a tsunami crashing through me now.

“Shh. Don’t tell anyone else that the hard-ass man I am can also be a little soft too.” A muted chuckle filters through the audience. “So please, write your checks. Transfer those funds. But don’t forget to learn about the incredible things this organization has done and is doing for those who have Down syndrome and their families supporting them. This charity helps when no one else will. They provide support when others turn their back. They give assistance to those who can’t afford the specialists for their children. These kids aren’t suffering with this syndrome. They are thriving. They are laughing. They are living and smashing the preconceived notions that people have of them . . . and I, for one, am more than willing to support this organization that is helping them do that.”

The room erupts into thunderous applause. People stand unexpectedly as I stay seated, a little stunned and a lot confused.

And then I stand, too, but for completely different reasons than everyone else.

I need to get out of here.

I can’t breathe with all of this—all of him—so close and so real and so raw and so overwhelming.

“I have to go,” I say to Archer. I’m not even sure if he heard me, but I hurry from the ballroom and the crowd and their praise . . . and from Ryker.

His words have touched me in a way I could never have imagined. Words that normally I would be skeptical of. I’d pick them apart and force myself to see that he’s just using words—one after another—to trick me into forgiving him and taking him back.

But maybe that’s the problem.

Maybe I’m so used to people trying to be something they’re not—while I focus so much on trying to uncover the real person beneath the facade—that I’ve lost faith that some people are just who they seem to be. Good. Sincere. Real. So instead of seeing the truth, I’m busy looking for their deceit, even when it isn’t there.

Ryker’s changed me, and that’s a tough pill to swallow.

He’s made me want to see the good in him, even when I’ve already seen the bad.

And that . . . that’s a truth I’m not sure I’m ready for just yet.

I leave the ballroom and head toward Times Square—escaping into the night from Ryker once again, like Cinderella from her prince.

It takes me a few minutes and several blocks to catch my breath and wrap my head around everything.

Me: Thanks for asking me to go tonight, Arch. I had a good time, but I just needed some time and space.

Archer: The girl who wanders to find herself.

Me: You know me better than most.

Archer: Lucky for you, lol. You needed to see him. Your reaction tells me he’s definitely worth fighting for. Whatever he did must have been bad. Just remember that it takes a strong person to apologize, but it takes an even stronger person to show forgiveness. Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.

Me: K.

Staring at my phone for a few minutes, I let Archer’s words hit me about apologies and forgiveness. And I think of everything Ryker said to me tonight. Everything he said during his speech. The genuine sincerity in it. I can hear it all now, even though at the time he said it I couldn’t.

I don’t know how much time passes, but I wander the streets like I used to do when I first moved to the city. The only difference is I’m in my heels and evening gown instead of my threadbare hand-me-downs.

Just like back then, I can pretend I have no final destination, that I’m just trying to clear my head and figure out what to do next . . . but deep down I already know.

When I was younger, I was going to head back home and try to help my sister.

This time, though . . . maybe I’m finally going to try to help myself.





CHAPTER NINE

Ryker