Taylor opened the door as Ryder brushed past her into the apartment. “Is anyone here?” he asked.
“No.” Taylor crossed her arms over her chest. Ryder took off his coat and laid it on the top of the couch. Why was he here? A deep line creased between his brows - tension radiated from him.
He walked up to her and took her hand, giving her that charming seductive smile she had seen him use on many girls. That smile never worked on her. “Hey, Taylor,” he said.
“What are you doing here?”
Ryder placed his hands on her hips. “Let’s be like old times.”
Taylor raised her eyebrows. “Already forgotten your wedding vows?”
He chuckled and kissed her neck, making her feel over-powered. She laughed as something in her churned. Something was different – not right about him. “I’m not going to be your whore. Why don’t you go back to your Luna?”
He raised his head. He smirked at her, and glared deep into her eyes. Taylor turned her gaze to the side. That look. He had that look. The glare of his father.
"Oh, come on, pretty thing.”
"No, not anymore. It was fun when we were kids.” He kissed her neck, again.
"Ryder stop.” She shoved on his chest, but he tugged her close to his body as his lips trailed down her neck.
Through clenched teeth, she said, “Let go of me.”
Ryder threw her back against the door - making her head bang hard against it. Tears swelled in her eyes. Taylor focused on a painting of a red rose, letting her eyes focus. “It’s finally happening.”
“What?” Ryder planted his hands on his hips.
“Remember.” She shook her head. “You remember. It was the day before your eighth birthday.”
Ryder turned around and stared at the opposite wall.
She walked up to him. “You do.”
“I don’t remember anything,” he said in a low tone.
“Yes, you do. Remember hiding under the bed, because your mother, what was it, she smiled at some guy; just smiled! That day, you promised you would never be your father.”
Ryder spun around. “I’m not him.”
“How long till you start hitting her?”
Ryder grabbed his coat and flew past Taylor, slamming the door behind him. Taylor fell back against the wall. How long until he would?
Ryder sat at a bar at one of his father’s hotels, spinning a shot glass on the red oak bar with a perfect shine. A full heat spread through him. How dare she? He clenched the glass. That whore. Laughter filled his ears and he looked to his side. A dark brunette with cropped short hair laughed at something the businessman said. She looked at him and smiled, batting her eyelashes. Did she think she would get more money from him? He looked away. Women should never cut their hair. He pushed thoughts of Alecia's long curly mane away. He couldn’t think of her now.
"Are you visiting New York?” asked a feminine voice. A tall woman with long straight blonde hair stood next to him, leaning on the counter. She wore a red dress that hung loosely on her skin, making her look classy. A slight rose mist floated from her.
"I don’t pay for sex.”
The woman chuckled. “You think I’m a prostitute.”
“You’re just the type of girl my father would hire to get a little extra from the business men.”
The woman raised her eyebrows. “Your father owns this place?”
Ryder turned to the bartender. “Joe, do I pay for drinks here?”
The bartender put down the rag he held. “No, Mr. Hendrix.”
“Why not?”
“Your father owns it.”
Ryder turned back to the woman and slipped off the stool. “Come on.”
Ryder rolled over and let his breath slowly slip from between his lips. Alecia had no power over him. She’d better remember that. The woman ran a finger down his cheek.
“I guess you get all the girls for free, too.”
“Are you paid to caress my face?”
Her brown eyes narrowed, before she slipped from the bed, and made her way to her clothes. Once she left, Ryder rose from the bed, and took a shower. The water fell hard on his back as the steam filled the room. He grabbed the soap and brought it to his chest, but stopped - inhaling the bay rum scent. Let her smell the other girl’s perfume. Let her wonder.
He returned to their apartment, and opened the bedroom door. Alecia lay on the bed curled up. He kicked his shoes off, making them pound on the floor. She flinched. Good. He walked over to her, and placed a hand on her stomach, rolling her over onto her back.
“Hi,” he said. She forced a smile onto her tear-stained face as he sat down, leaning over her. Her wide eyes wavered. “Don’t ever do that again.”
"I’m sorry,” she said. He held her face firmly and kissed her lips softly, letting it deepen as her body trembled under him. She would never pull that trick again.