Fighting Redemption(40)

“I know,” Kyle replied, smug. “I had it on good authority she would be.”

“So look at the guy she’s standing next to. Don’t you recognise him?”

His brows flew up. “Should I?”

“He’s in all the photos we saw of Fin.”

“Christ, Galloway. I’m busy looking at her in the photos, not raking my eyes over whatever * is standing next to her.”

“That’s Ian,” Galloway growled.

Kyle’s eyes flew to the bar. “Oh f*ck,” he breathed.

Ryan winced as the lights strobed painfully, but he kept his eyes on Fin as he pushed through the crowd of people.

Ian noticed him first. Glancing over Fin’s shoulder, he gave Ryan the once over and his jaw ticked. Ignoring him, Ian smiled down at Fin and Ryan wanted to punch it off his face.

“Fin.”

She turned slightly and her eyes, having done something that made them smoky and sexy, widened when she saw him standing there.

“Can we talk?”

Fin blinked. “Now? Now you want to talk?”

He nodded at the clarification. Yes, he wanted to talk.

Ian took hold of her bicep, the gesture a possessive one, and smirked at Ryan. “Not really the best time for talking, is it, Kendall?”

Ryan gave him a murderous glare. Did the man have a f*cking death wish?

“Ryan.” Hearing Fin’s sweet voice, he wiped the anger from his face before he looked at her. She shook her head at him. “There’s nothing to talk about. I get it. Really, I do. But I apologised. I asked you to come back and after two weeks, you see me standing with Ian and you decide we can talk now?”

“Yes, dammit. You needed time to cool off.”

“Fin.” Ian’s eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, crowding her. “What are you talking about?”

Fin shrugged off his hold. “Nothing, Ian.”

Ryan looked between the both of them. Ian’s body was tense, jealousy obvious in his flushed cheeks. Hell, Ryan was just as bad. His hands had curled into fists. He all but cracked his knuckles and growled at the guy.

“Are you two back together now?” Ryan asked Fin.

“No,” she said firmly.

“Maybe,” Ian said over the top of her.

With the noise at the bar getting louder, Ryan only caught Ian’s response. He flinched, hurt welling inside him. “Really? After what happened between us, you’re just running back to him?”

Ian’s nostrils flared. “Wait. You f*cked him?”

Fin pressed her lips together.

“Don’t you speak to her like that!” Ryan snarled, jabbing his finger angrily.

Fin focused her gaze over his shoulder. “Hi, Kyle.” Her attempts at forcing a smile fell flat because it didn’t reach her eyes.

“How long have you been f*cking him for?” Ian ground out. “All those times he was staying over at your house when we were still at school—were you f*cking him the same time as me?”

With vision blurred by rage, Ryan heard Kyle mutter, “Oh shit,” as he cocked back his fist and slammed it in Ian’s face. It hit with a hard, satisfying crack, and Ryan growled with pleasure as Ian staggered backwards.

“Kyle, do something,” he heard Fin plead.

“Fuck no. Didn’t you just hear what that * said to you? I’m taking a turn next.”

Ian rushed forward, fisting Ryan’s black shirt in his hands. “You bastard!” he yelled in his face. “Stop doing this to her. Can’t you see? When she sees you, all she sees is Jake and it’s f*cking killing her! You hanging around is just a lousy reminder of what happened to him. Leave her the f*ck alone or she’ll never get over it. Let her move on, for f*ck’s sake!”

Ian shoved him away and Ryan staggered backwards, shock stealing his breath. Fuck. Ian was right. The * was f*cking right. He had to let her go. Let her heal. Live without her. Alone. He was always so goddamn alone.

His heart squeezed painfully, like it would rupture in his chest at any moment. Shoving away from the security that arrived after the commotion, he turned and blindly stumbled his way out of the bar.

Tex caught up with him and shoved a bottle of beer in his face. “Here. Think you need this.”

In full agreement, he grabbed it from Tex and swallowed half of it down in one go. Seeing a second sitting in Tex’s hand, he grabbed it too.

“Hey! Kendall—”

“Fuck off,” he growled. Putting a hand on his chest, Ryan slammed Tex into the wall and stalked away. Rounding the corner, he found himself in an alley as he downed the last of the first bottle. Christ. Fucking beer. He needed something harder. Something to annihilate the Hell he couldn’t claw his way out of. Hooking his arm, he smashed the empty bottle against the red brick wall. It shattered with a loud echo through the empty alley, glass shards scattering carelessly along the concrete pavement.

“Jake!” he shouted, his chest aching and raw. “Where are your f*cking words of wisdom now?’

Stumbling, Ryan leaned against the wall and finished the next beer.

“Asshole,” he mumbled when the voices inside his head remained quiet.

Sliding his back down the wall, Ryan drew his knees to his chest, laughter bubbling out of him at his stupidity. Fin had it right. Ryan had been trying to take care of her. It was the only thing that kept him going—that she needed him. But she didn’t need him at all. Where did he go from here? He was so f*cking lost. He buried his head against his knees, gasping with laughter. Hadn’t he always been lost? Jake should’ve told him to buy a damn compass and get the f*ck over himself.