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Chapter 14
Ryan
Most days, it feels like I'm drowning. I've stopped trying to hold my head above the surface a long time ago. These days I'm sinking to the bottom without keeping my eyes open.
Can anyone blame me for not wanting to live?
I lost the two people I loved the most, my wife and daughter, Vera and Fanny, and now I'm standing here without them, a man with only one purpose—revenge.
That's right; I can't die yet. I still have to punish the man who ordered both of them killed, Ola Svensson, Amelia's father, and the man I worked under for several years.
The man is a swine. I was his bodyguard for years. Ola Svensson invited me to dinners and took me everywhere. We were close like brothers until I told him that I wanted to move away from Sweden with my family, find a warmer place to live.
Ola Svensson didn't like that.
He claimed I knew far too much about his research projects, that I had seen too much to leave him when in reality, I
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Amelia Frustration is the winning emotion when I'm sitting there, milking Wanda, the black and white cow in the stable. I want to hate Ryan, and believe me, I have every reason to loathe the man, but I felt a twinge of guilt when he stormed out through the door. Why does it bother me that he is angry with me? I shouldn't care! Inhaling, I run both my hands through my hair, accidentally kicking the metal bucket and spilling out milk all over the wooden planks. An angry growl travels up my throat. "Goddamn it!" I mutter plenty of other swear words, way too aware of the image of Ryan's smirk slipping into my head. The guy is everywhere, in my dreams, thoughts, and now I can't even work! Ryan is like an infection, and I can't breathe, function, or even think! Those stormy blue eyes just randomly pop up in my head whenever they feel like it, and then I want to punch a wall or kiss Ryan's plush lips, and ugh! I'm so sexually frus
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My limbs feel heavy like someone drained my blood and filled my veins with lead. Despair is buried in my bones, leaking into my chest and making my heart pound frantically. I don't want to be here, but I can't move from the spot on the floor. Did they drug me? This odd calm is washing over me in waves, but it feels fake and artificial, as if created by something other than my mind. A snicker echoes against the barn walls, and something cold grips at my neck, forcing me to look up at the ceiling with a migraine building up behind my eyelids. "Well, well, well..." Felicia whistles, seemingly satisfied. She is standing over me victoriously. "It looks like the mighty lion has finally fallen," "Is she dead?" Zoya asks from behind. "No," Felicia replies. "It seems we didn't use enough sedative; she is still keeping herself awake, but she is struggling," "This won't kill her, right?" Clover asks. "Not at all," Felicia laughs t
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Ryan I glare out through the window. Amelia still isn't back from milking the damn cows. Why is it taking her so long? And why did I buy Dom Pérignon? I slur around the champagne inside my glass for a while, annoyed beyond relief that the woman still isn't here when I prepared dinner. One could mistake me for a foolish man in love. Like an idiot, I jumped into my car earlier today, and drove to the wealthy parts of our city, and bought the most expensive steak I could find. Amelia was so angry at me this morning, and I thought some gifts might make her hate me less. It's sad, but when I saw Billy buy his secret date one of those Louis Vuitton bags, I got one for Amelia too, hoping it would turn her on to see one in the living flesh. I even had some lady guide me through the makeup section and hand me all kinds of stuff I thought Amelia would appreciate. For example, lipgloss for her plump pinks, perfume, other shower articles, some fou
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AmeliaWhen I open my eyes, a migraine sucker punches me so fast that I wish I had just kept my eyes closed. I see stars, galaxies, and bright showers of glittering comets; everything is spinning, and my throat is drier than the deserts of Sahara—no matter how hard I click it, I can't wash away the taste of vomit.It takes a while to realize those spinning lights are actually the chandelier hanging in the ceiling. I'm inside Ryan's cabin again, lying on the couch like a corpse, and I can hear something sounding like it's getting fried in the kitchen; even the air smells delicious.But I'm not hungry, too in pain to even think about food in my current state. Looking down at my arm, I notice pink bandages are neatly covering it.I squint my eyes; there are names written there: Courtney with a heart following her name, Billy scribbled something hard to read, Giovani can actually write like people, and then further up, I see Ryan's name framed between two cro
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After Ryan's lips leave mine, I feel as empty as a shell, already missing his mouth on mine. He is leaning further back on the couch, giving me space, but I can still feel his breath on my skin. Cautiously, I lift my chin to examine his face, and the picture stops my heart. What I observe isn't the emotionless man with storms brewing behind his eyes; I see the passion and the flames—his eyes are almost entirely black. I barely dare to breathe. I'm afraid of the lustful expression on Ryan's face, terrified of where this might lead since I know we both want each other. The atmosphere is electric. And my pulse is already elevating at the thought of kissing him again, but I'm also afraid, scared his kiss might not have meant anything romantic. "What did that kiss mean?" Embarrassingly enough, my voice comes out like a hoarse whisper, still weak from whatever drug I was injected with. Ryan, however, doesn't seem to mind, something resembling curiosity flar
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Ryan Dinner had Amelia passing out almost directly—the tiny terror is snoring on the couch, collapsed with both her arms and legs akimbo. She is rather cute, but I have a feeling she would attempt to murder me in my sleep if I gave her such a compliment. To be honest, Amelia isn't the type of woman I would go for if I were looking for a one-nightstand. Usually, I'm into tall girls with perky breasts and lush lips, while Amelia is short and kinda flatchested. Yet Amelia makes me hornier than anyone else. Her voice is sick—breathy and a bit hoarse. Mesmeric. Thinking about how it would sound having her cry out my name into the wind keeps me up at night. I'm so screwed. And not only that, but Amelia comes with this natural beauty that makes her hard to forget. Without wearing an ounce of makeup, her eyes glow in this shade of emerald green that makes it seem as though she can look straight into your soul, and while she is skinny, her ass is volup
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Ryan Darkness has fallen, and I'm alone inside my cabin, staring at my demonic reflection in the mirror. My fingers are busy fixing my bowtie, and once satisfied, I smirk in reward. I'm dressed in a black suit, feeling like a modern grim reaper; even my eyes are fermenting storms because I mean business when the fedora is on. Hatred, revenge, calamity, and judgment, only ugly emotions and thoughts rummage through my head. I'm not a good man, probably colder than the devil himself, but I care about those closest to me. And if I could choose between selling my soul to him down there or saving the ones I love, I would go with the first option every day of the week. A knock sounds on the door, and I turn around with a cruel smile—it seems Giovani has arrived with Felicia. I walk to open the door, fascinated with the fantastic view of Felicia down on her knees on my porch. Giovani is standing behind her, keeping her up by holding her hair with his
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Amelia"What do you mean Ryan will tie Felicia to a damn chair and have her hover right above the infected?! And how can you be okay with this? Are you mad?!"I'm boiling with rage and glaring at Courtney with fire in my eyes. Talking hurts my throat, especially yelling, but I have to speak up! Violence in any form is not tolerable in my eyes.It doesn't matter that Felicia hurt me; she shouldn't be tormented for it! The girl is sick in the head—what she needs is a psychologist or whoever crazy people talk with!"I didn't think it would upset you!" Courtney is sitting in Ryan's kitchen and tapping the empty chair next to her. She looks too unbothered for my liking. "It will be over soon anyway; why won't you take a seat?"Maybe I should?Since when have Ryan listened to me anyway?First, I freeze up at Courtney's words and drift forward like a ghost. I'm about to sit down, but then I shake my head. "I can't sit down while Ryan is out
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