Ruthless Letters: A Grey Bully Romance (Captive Writings Book 1) Read online

  He shakes his head once, more of a quick jerk than anything, but it doesn’t rid his desolate expression. “Not for lack of trying. If Tristan hadn’t pulled me off…”

  “Pulled you off of who?”

  Instead of completing his sentence, Ryker stares at me for a long beat before pressing his lips together once and breaking his gaze. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not why I’m here.”

  “Why are you he—”

  He moves closer, invading my space and stealing my question. Two large hands grasp my hips, yanking me against the length of his body and his lips descend on mine. I gasp, frozen, halfway between dreamland and Wonderland. I must be sleeping—had to have passed out during my show because there’s no way Ryker Ames is kissing me in real life.

  But then his hands shift to my back, slipping underneath my tank top. His fingers dance up the length of my spine and I shiver, pressing closer to him and letting instincts and fulfilled dreams surrender myself to him. My lips open under his, and his tongue pushes in, tangling with mine. He takes control of the kiss, of me, dominating my every move.

  Ryker pulls back then, but he doesn’t release me. His eyes—a burning field of grass—remain locked on mine, before flicking to my lips again. His fingers continue their cruel dance up my back and I bite my lip to prevent begging for more.

  Still, my breath is gone. Given to him for his diversion, because I’m sure that’s all this is. A moment in time for him, so he can get his kicks before leaving me and finding a willing girl for the night. He’s playing a game—his meanest one yet, in which he conquers the final piece of me he hasn’t gotten before tonight.

  But the blood…

  Either way, the heat in his gaze proves to me what I’ve forever known. He desires me, but still won’t let himself have me, and that alone is a win for me. A win that has my own teeth clamping down on the inside of my cheek to prevent me from smiling at the victory. Even if this is all I’ll ever get from him, I have confirmation of his attraction, and for now, it’s enough.

  “Ryker—”

  He pulls away entirely, his arms dropping back by his side as steps away from me. My body instantly chills, missing his warmth. Then he turns and heads for the door.

  “I have to go.” But he stops walking after he speaks, his back still facing me.

  “Okay.” After all, what else can I say?

  “Elena.”

  I stop breathing. His use of my real name is few and far between. It means whatever war he’s battling in his head isn’t a pleasant one, and for a small second in time, he’s being real with me.

  Unable to help myself, I step forward, my hand reaching for his arm. He’s been the king of the castle—of my castle—for so long, it’s taking a toll on him, obviously.

  As if he can sense me nearing him, he jerks away, stepping closer to the front door. His voice is cold and detached when he says, “Don’t touch me.”

  And then he’s gone. In a blink, he has the door open and shut behind him while I’m left trying to determine what happened. My hand flies to my lips, still flushed by the feel of him. I’m still not wholly sure that happened. After all, this is a dream.

  I reluctantly go back to the couch and slip underneath the safety of my blanket, something I clearly should not have left in the first place. Instead, I tangled with temptation and, once again, got burned. He’s probably laughing about me to his friends right about now, texting them how his “Dolly” fell for his trick.

  The blood was obviously fake… right?

  Whatever happened, all I know is a part of me will forever hold onto that small piece of him, Ryker finally granted me.

  I’m getting dressed the next morning when Mom knocks on the door. She opens it a crack, slipping an envelope inside. “This was on the front step. It’s addressed to you.”

  Dread drops in my stomach because, for some reason, I know. I know it like I know myself. I know, because after Ryker left, I couldn’t push the interaction from my mind. The more I tried to rationalize it, the more I realized the fear in his eyes couldn’t be fake. Nor was the blood, or his comments about it. Something happened to Ryker, and I don’t know what.

  As I grasp the envelope in my hand, waiting for Mom to move past my room, I already know who this is from. Hopefully, it explains last night’s strangeness, but still, the fact that this could have answers doesn’t make me feel remotely okay. After a while of steeling my nerves, I open the envelope and pull out the folded-up piece of paper.

  The black, messy ink is stark against the white paper. His handwriting is jagged, as if he wrote in a rush. I scan the letter, spotting the tell-tale darker spots where his pen dug into the paper.

  Dolly,

  By the time you read this, I’ll already be gone. The stories will soon make their way to you and I will be depicted as the bad guy in the scenario, simply for who’s at the forefront. Believe the stories, because buried in them, the truth is there. No one knows the complete truth—why I did it—so don’t bother searching.

  I wanted to write to you and tell you this personally. At first, I planned on using this letter to keep my name clean in your heart, but I realize this is better. Do not see me as the hero, because I’m not one. I’ll forever be your villain.

  I came to you tonight because I needed to taste you once before I lost all opportunity to do so. It was a taste I’ll never stop imagining. The flavour of your lips, your small gasp, the feel of you in my arms after all this time… Thank you for allowing me to steal a piece of an angel before I’m put into Hell.

  You were a fun pastime. A toy I spent molding for the last four years for myself, but apparently that can’t happen anymore. You’ll be put on the shelf, ready for the next boy who comes along. But remember, in the end, you’ll always have been mine first. No matter who plays with you, I will be engraved in your soul—exactly as you’re affixed to mine.

  I realize this is vague and regardless of what you hear, do not come looking for me. One day, if I’m able to, I hope to come back to you. Until then, forget about me and forget about these last four years.

  Have a good life, Dolly. Be happy, my beautiful Elena.

  Ryker.

  As Ryker’s letter predicted, news spread quickly.

  Arrested.

  For assaulting Alex Miller, the principal’s son. Exactly as Ryker had stated, if Tristan hadn’t stopped him in time, Alex could have easily died from even two more hits. He’s alive but is stuck in the hospital and will be there for a while, according to the news travelling through school today.

  Everything now makes sense. The blood. The obvious fear Ryker was feeling last night. He knew he’d be arrested, but he still ran to come find… me. His letter all but outlined why, and yet, I still don’t fully fathom why he wanted to see me before being taken away. After all, why would he? Four years of hell—a hell I found to be more like heaven, but still—all for him to realize he truly wanted me.

  My tongue wipes at my bottom lip, at the memory of his teeth tugging on it. It was truly his most ruthless manipulation, since now I’ve tasted him, but have no way to get seconds.

  Despite his request not to look for him, I do. I start with Tristan first, but it leads nowhere when he flat-out ignores my multiple inquiries. No one else at school knows why he hit Alex, and the frustration of being left in the dark eats at me for months.

  Suddenly, the end of high school felt bleaker. Like all those moments of him bullying me were supposed to lead to something, but instead, they’re simply… over.

  RYKER

  From my hiding spot, a half-block away behind the lone tree, I watch her lift the envelope and can’t help but smile as she scans the immediate area but doesn’t find me.

  A woman walking by with her dog spares me a glance, before doing a double take and quickening her steps. I realize I might seem a bit sketchy, hiding how I am. The black hoodie isn’t doing me any favours either, but I can’t risk Elena accidentally spotting me.

  Not yet. My doll will be see
ing me soon, but for this moment, she needs to be alone when she realizes who’s come back into her life.

  Elena stares at the paper for a long second, and then I see it—she’s read to the end. Fear and uncertainty blossom, making her mouth drop open as she wildly scans the area again, this time panic swirling in her gaze.

  Oh, Dolly, if only you knew how close the reaper is to you. How close I am to claiming what’s mine.

  My neck tingles as I stare at her. She’s fucking beautiful. Any photo I’ve gotten of her, over the years, pales in comparison to what’s in front of me. The morning sun pokes through the strands of her blonde hair, creating a halo around her face and highlighting her button nose. I’ve spent years dreaming about her, but it still didn’t prepare me for this moment. Her body has filled out since senior year, and my hands twitch with the need to check if I’m hallucinating and she’s simply a figment of my imagination, similar to how the last four years have gone when it seems that’s all I’ve done.

  Four years of sitting in prison while she’s been played with by someone else. With my permission, of course, and my final letter to her said as much. But fuck, even thinking about his hands on her has murderous rage boiling in my stomach. Being “okay” with it and being okay with it are two totally different things. I’ll happily go back to jail if it means I get to break his hands.

  No, I remind myself. The plan is set. It’s what is important.

  After another scan of the area, Elena stuffs my letter in her bag and fixes her scarf before striding down the road, toward her school. I know, because I know everything about her. Where she goes, what program she’s in, who her friends are… everything. There’s nothing about her life that’s a secret from me—exactly the way I like it.

  I follow her, sticking to the opposite side of the street and keeping a way’s back. While I can’t see her expression anymore, I know she’s terrified. It’s in the way she hikes her bag closer to her side and the way her head moves, as if constantly searching around for me.

  I love it.

  My skin grows hot, shooting lust into every part of my body. I’m making her scared, and it fucking excites me, even more than anything I’ve ever previously done to her. This time, the game is more. She doesn’t realize how long I’ve been waiting for this moment—the moment I steal everything from her.

  My phone buzzes, forcing my attention away from the only person to ever matter to me.

  Tristan: And?

  Me: Game on.

  I shove the phone away, following her the rest of the way to her school. After a final scan of the street, she slips inside, past the main gates. I could follow her, but I don’t. Not when I have other things to do first.

  Four years is a long time to be constantly fantasizing about a person. Now, to have her here in front of me, so reachable, so attainable, it’s a craving I will soon need satiated.

  But for now, I turn away and continue plotting what we started years ago.

  ELENA

  I manage to make it home without further indication of Ryker’s presence, but once I get there, I’m lost. Lost in the past, staring out the window at the cars driving by my townhouse, wondering if Ryker is inside any of them.

  Distantly, I hear the door open and close, but don’t turn for it. It should be Brent, as per our Thursday afternoon pattern in which he comes to my place before we walk to his apartment together. And if it’s not Brent, and it’s Ryker again… Well, fuck.

  “Hey, how was your day?” Brent sidles up beside me, linking his fingers with mine. His touch awakens me from the spell my thoughts are under and I toss him a weak smile in response, hoping he doesn’t notice how unfocused I am.

  “Fine.” If he hears the distraction in my voice, he doesn’t mention it, opting instead to rattle on about… something. I’m not entirely sure what since my mind drifts back to the place it’s been living in all day.

  This whole day has been a muted mess. I should have tucked myself back in bed and let it pass without me, but I knew staying home wouldn’t be the answer. Instead, I pushed through, without hearing a lick of what any professor lectured on, too busy staring at the seat in front of me until it was time for another class. My notebooks remain bare of today’s notes, in favour of my mind being full of Ryker.

  Ryker. He was my sun for nearly four years of my life, orbiting around my very being, and it’s clear he’s returned to continue his trajectory.

  It started on the second day of high school. I didn’t understand him at the time and believed his jokes to be harmless flirting because they started simple before he grew callous and the pranks got crueller.

  Still, as fucked-up as it all had been, it became the highlight of my day. I liked his brand of hate; I fell for it each time, even knowing he strove to make my days worse. Because of Ryker, Teagan remained my only friend since all the other girls were too afraid to hang around me for long. Because of Ryker, I never had a boyfriend. When a guy showed interest in me, by the late afternoon, he wouldn’t even peek in my direction and obviously I understood why.

  I was a silly girl then, and it took me months afterwards to realize it. As unkind as Ryker was to me, I was convinced it was his messed-up way of displaying his true affections. His attention continually kept me returning because I wanted him—anything he’d give me, even if it wasn’t much. Not too long into that first year, I noticed I was the only girl he gave so much of his attention to, and I believed it made me special to him.

  Even to this day, I’m completely unaware as to why he bullied me back then.

  My free hand floats to my mouth. The ghost feeling of his kiss has never left me, even if I managed to finally move on from him. That evening was different than our usual interactions.

  It took a week after graduation for me to realize what I was already aware of. The end of high school would inevitably bring Ryker and my games to a close, though it happened in ways I didn’t imagine. Our playtime was up, and I needed to move on.

  It wasn’t as easy as simply saying I would. It was halfway through the summer when I decided whatever sent him to jail was no issue of mine and I locked the key on any judgement of him and threw it away. Preparing for college became my entire motivation, and once leaving my hometown, the high school drama, and Ryker behind, making new friends and acing my classes became the next goal.

  Now I see how stupid I was in believing Ryker’s attention would lead to something. It was only ever a torturous sport to him, even down to his final letter that served as a way for him to remain inside my brain.

  “Elena, you ready to go?”

  Brent’s voice jerks me back to the present and I nod, striding by him and out the door he’s holding open for me. The chilly air hits my face, but I hardly notice it when my feet falter on the front steps, eyes dropping to where I found the letter this morning.

  “Whoa!” Brent stops short of bumping into me. “You okay, babe?”

  “Uh huh,” I murmur, my eyes scanning the road again. Ryker’s letter implied knowing I’m with someone, so how long has he been watching me? How long has he been out of prison?

  Ryker bullying me is one thing, but now he’s a criminal, which is something else entirely, which I’d much rather avoid. I’m hours away from Newton, but still, he’s managed to somehow get my exact address.

  Brent slides past me, continuing to watch me beneath a furrowed forehead. “Elena, you feeling okay? We could stay here this weekend if you want?”

  I shake my head, first in denial, and then again to rid my mind of Ryker. He took so much of my high school experience away with his taunting and cruelty, so I vow, he won’t be allowed to take me away from the present. He can return to whatever cell he crawled out from and leave me to my life now.

  Even if the tiny fragment of my heart Brent hasn’t ever been able to get beating jump-started back to life with Ryker’s return.

  My hand links with Brent’s and I smile, taking the lead once more. “Sorry. Longer day than I initially believed, I guess.” br />
  “It’s cool.” Brent swings our clasped hands. “It’s all that studying you force into your brain. How about we chill tonight? Watch a movie and take things easy.”

  I smile, noting Brent’s easy-going demeanor. Nothing is hard with him. We were a meet-cute situation. He’s not a bully. He doesn’t harass me. He cares, and it’s in the little moments, such as now, when he shows it.

  Ryker’s attention may have been everything back then, but it’s Brent’s that truly matters. Brent’s attention is good for me. Healthy. Unlike Ryker’s, which broke my sanity and left me feeling empty.

  Four years, I’ve lived in peace—in mental safety.

  He will not mess up my life.

  “That was a good movie,” Brent comments as he flicks his TV off from where it hangs on the wall. His room gets dark, but he soon replaces it with light from the bedside lamp.

  “Yeah,” I agree, only half-heartedly. If I’m being truthful, I only recall about fifty percent of the action movie, a genre I hoped would keep my mind busy because it’s been running way too fast since we’ve arrived at his apartment.

  It didn’t work.

  The other fifty percent of the time, my attention continued to drift toward the bag on the floor, where Ryker’s letter is folded up inside. I should have thrown it away this morning and let the breeze take it far away from me. For some reason, though, I didn’t; I tucked it inside my bag, knowing I’ll eventually hide it with the other one from high school, buried deep in the bottom of a box, far away from where my sanity would try to seek comfort in it.

  I shake my head. Concentrate, girl. You’re doing it again.

  Thankfully, Brent’s attention is on his cell phone rather than me. I glance over, noting a flash of red hair, but before I can question anything, he quickly places it on the charger and twists toward me, moving in closer.

  “Are you tired?” His voice drops husky, his gaze peeking out from beneath full eyelashes.