Bound

Kate & Ryke

The serene expanse of green landscape was morphing back to gray as we neared the city. Ryke and I had spent most of the trip home the same way we'd spent our day of fishing: in silence. He'd baited my hooks, carried my bags and opened my car door, so I knew he wasn't mad. But this sterile kindness was worse than anger.

"I'll order flowers for your mom's birthday tomorrow," I said. "How would you sign the card if it was you ordering them?"

"Just 'Love, Jason' is good," he said.

"She calls you Jason?"

He smiled. "Yeah, no one but my family calls me that."

"And you need a new dress coat. Want to go shopping one night this week?"

"Sure."

The silence returned and I dreaded getting out of the car as Ryke turned on to my street. I didn't want things to be awkward between us. There were so many things I wanted to say, but I couldn't bring myself to open my mouth. I vowed to not get out of the car until we'd talked about things.

Ryke slowed to a stop in my driveway and my plan was forgotten when I looked at my front step.

"Shit!" I cried.

"What?" Ryke turned to me. "Who is that?"

"It's Quinn."

"Quinn?" His voice was infused with anger. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"I don't know." I buried my face in my hands. "I haven't seen him since . . . I don't want to see him, Ryke."

He patted my knee. "It's okay. I'll get rid of him. Stay here."

The look of terror on Quinn's lean face as Ryke approached the porch almost made me smile. I could tell by his expression that Ryke was ready to do battle, but Quinn was running for the street, where his car was parked.

Ryke was yelling, but the only words I could make out were "fucking asshole". Quinn sped away from the curb and Ryke came back to the car.

"Fucking loser," he muttered as he opened the door.

"Thanks," I said softly.

"I'll kick his ass any day of the week. Tell me if he bothers you again."

This was the Ryke I hadn't seen all day. The one who could make my heart pound without even touching me.

He got my bags from the trunk and carried them in. Mom wasn't home, and I wanted Ryke to stay. I wanted him to do a lot more than just stay, actually.

"Alright, see you in the morning," he said, turning toward the door.

"Ryke." I took a deep breath when he looked at me. None of the things I thought of saying felt right. A goofy invitation to check out my bedroom would just embarrass both of us. "Thanks for going with me."

He nodded and left. I sank onto the couch and grabbed a throw pillow, clutching it in my lap. I shook my head over how out of my league Ryke was, but then moved to the edge of the couch as I reconsidered. He wasn't out of my league. He was a man, and I was a woman. An imperfect one, yes, but I'd never doubted myself like this before.

I remembered something Mom had said to me in this very room when I came home crying during college because some football player had broken my heart. I'd said I wasn't good enough for him and she'd recoiled like I'd slapped her.

"Like hell! Katie, people are going to put you down sometimes, because they're spiteful. But damned if I'll listen to you putting yourself down."