Ryder (The Razer Series, #1.5) Read online

  Copyright © 2017 by K A Sands.

  Ryder is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Published in the United Kingdom by K A Sands.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Please contact the author at [email protected] regarding any enquiries.

  Cover Image – Frankie Sutera.

  Cover Design – K A Sands. Image Copyright © 2017 by K A Sands.

  Edits, Proofreading & Formatting – DeditS.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  RYDER

  First edition. January 29, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 K A Sands.

  Written by K A Sands.

  Ryder

  Book #1.5

  The Razer Series

  It is advised you read Taylor first.

  *Full of surprises and revelations, heartache and joy, Ryder is the conclusion you’ve all been waiting for.

  *Please note - 18+ - contains adult content.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Copyright Page

  Disclaimer

  Ryder (The Razer Series, #1.5)

  Dedication

  Playlist

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Sneaky Peek

  Taylor

  Acknowledgements

  Author’s Bio & Links

  Also by K A Sands

  Taylor - 10k prequel to The Razer Series

  Calling Time - Book #1, The Razer Series.

  Ryder - Book #1.5, The Razer Series

  Changing Tides - Book #2, The Razer Series - Coming April/May.

  Dedication

  For the ladies who wanted Ryder.

  This one’s for you.

  Enjoy

  I remember

  How seeing the shape of your mouth

  That first time,

  I kept staring until my blood turned to rain.

  Some things take root in the brain

  And just don’t let go.

  TS Eliot - Slow Dance

  Playlist

  You Don’t Know - Katelyn Tarver

  Certain Things - James Arthur

  Tired - Alan Walker, Gavin James

  So Cold - Ben Cocks ft Nikisha Reyes-Pile

  Unsteady - X Ambassadors

  Parachute - Callum Stewart

  Boys Like You - Anna Clendening

  Silence - Grace Carter

  Don’t Let Me Down - Conor Maynard

  Losing You - Aquilo

  Cold Desert - Kings of Leon

  One

  No velvety, warm skin pressed against my back. No dainty hand curled around my chest, palm laid flat against my heart. No silky, smooth legs entwined with mine. Reaching a hand across the bed, my bleary mind barely registered the absence. My eyelids were slow to open, my brain slow to wake up. Jaunty rays of sunshine bounced erratically around the room, promising a false warmth as I clutched the cold pillow to my face, grim reality catching up. Waking up alone never felt good, not since I’d been sharing a bed with Taylor.

  She’d said she was going, made it clear the night before. The stark truth of an empty bed was still not enough to convince me she’d left. She was making coffee, that was all, my groggy head lied. Dejected, I laid for a few more seconds to delay the inevitable.

  Despite the sun shining through the slatted blinds, the morning chill snaked across the room when I pulled the duvet down and swung to sit on the edge of the bed. I was thankful for the plush carpet underfoot when my feet touched the floor.

  No coffee aroma proved my lies to be the truth.

  Taylor was gone.

  Tucking my chin to my chest, I let out a ragged sigh, rubbing sleep from my eyes and thinking back to the night before and our terse conversation. There was far more to Taylor leaving than wanting to spend time with her parents. She wasn’t letting me in on it, it was all guessing games this morning. All except the glaring reality of chilly sheets.

  What had happened to her sister, Laura, had freaked her out, freaked us all out, and it was understandable she’d need time to come to terms with the events of last week. I still struggled at the sight of a terrified Laura, and dragging her and Lucca from a burning house. I’d figured she’d want to deal with her sister close by, not at her Dad’s three hundred miles away. I’d been too pussy to ask her what was going on, not wanting to hear her say she was leaving me, that she’d finally got sick of my blasé attitude and childish ways once and for all. I was a self-confessed man boy and often being with Taylor brought out my inner child, I was hard to take seriously at times. I’d nodded along, agreed it would be good for her to get away and recharge her batteries or whatever, only going a little nuts when she mentioned she wanted to drive up the next day. Her urgency to leave left me confused. Bitterness tinged the confusion.

  I sat and indulged in a two-minute pity party, kicking myself for being a fucking twat then let the supressed anger seep through. She’d left me in a goddamned cold bed without so much as a ‘see you soon.’

  Classy, Taylor. Fucking classy.

  Yeah, I was pissed off now I’d turned my mind to how I was really feeling over being abandoned. See - man boy. I should have been sporting a petty lip and screaming ‘it’s not fair!’

  What a low, cowardly blow, Taylor.

  Bending forward, I tugged my jeans toward me. Why Taylor hadn’t reamed me a new one over leaving them on the floor suddenly became clear. Guilty, she’d been feeling guilty for what she was about to do. She’d planned it that way. Searching my jeans pocket, I fished out my phone and called her.

  “Nice wake up, sweetheart.” I said sarcastically when she answered several rings later.

  “I told you I was going up today.”

  “What? In the middle of the fucking night? It’s barely 8 o’clock in the morning, Taylor.”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  The background noise was too quiet, no cars rushing by, no hum of an engine, no music. She wasn’t in the car, I could tell that much. “Where are you?”

  “At my dad’s.”

  I pulled the phone from my ear and simply stared at the thing. I wasn’t stupid. If she was there already, she’d left at silly o’clock in the morning. “You couldn’t wake me?” I shouted at the phone as I held it in front of me.

  “Don’t yell at me.”

  “Excuse me! Sorry for being upset my girlfriend snuck out of our bed in the middle of the night and fucked off!”

  Yeah, I was shouting all right and I wasn’t going to apologise for it. Taylor had royally pissed me the fuck off. Her lame arsed excuse she needed a time out didn’t wash with me in the slightest, I should have listened to my gut the night before.

  “What the fuck’s gotten into you?” I asked as sedately as I could. Slumping down on the bed, I pulled my legs under the duvet and thumped my head back on the pillows.

  “I told you, I had things to sort out.”

  The hitch in her voice meant she was close to tears and all of
a sudden, I felt like a prick for shouting at her. I’d never want to make her cry, but this was some weird shit and she’d lied about her reasoning to leave. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing!” This time, Taylor shouted. I wasn’t buying her crock of shit although I supposed there wasn’t much I could do about it on the other end of the phone.

  “Right. When will you be home?” Silence met the perfectly reasonable question and I waited with baited breath for her answer. It wasn’t coming quick enough for me. “Taylor...” The plea was there, insecurity blanketing her name from my lips. “What did I do, baby?” I whispered.

  She wouldn’t leave me on a whim, or off the back of some silly half argument we’d had the night before surely? There was more, far more, but Taylor wasn’t forthcoming.

  “I have to go. Dad’s got breakfast.”

  Not even time for goodbye, she hung up and left me hanging in the air again, no clearer about her intentions than when I’d woken in an empty bed.

  Taylor Hamilton walked back into my life a year ago. It had been a year since my heart had found its rhythm again. A year since my breaths had come easier. I missed her already.

  Yet, it had only been a few hours. Mere hours since my life had ground to a halt. Since we’d stalled. Was that the right word?

  To stall was to stop or delay - said so right there in the dictionary.

  Stop or delay.

  Whichever - they hurt my heart and stifled my breath. Taylor captured both the first time we’d met, stolen them the second time. I could only dream there would be a third.

  Stop or delay.

  She’d done neither when she’d walked out the door. No whispered words. No sweet, I’ll hurry home, kisses. No saccharine love-note.

  I launched my phone across the room and burrowed back under the duvet. The world could go fuck itself today. I had nothing to say to anyone anyway.

  Two

  I’d snuck out of my own house at two a.m. in the morning, like I had something to be embarrassed about. Maybe I had, I was running again, wasn’t I? I should tip my head in shame that I’d rather tuck myself away from the world than fight head on.

  I had no energy left. The past year had been pretty awesome, but there was no denying the fact - no matter what - the past always caught up. I didn’t want to play the game anymore. I was doing what I should’ve done ten years ago, what both Laura and I should have done, and going home.

  I was going home.

  The night before with Ryder had been difficult. As much as I loved him, he was tearing me apart simply standing in the same room as I was. I didn’t doubt his love for me, but it seemed he had love for another at the same time, and each time I looked at him I questioned myself. Questioned him. Was I worth it? Only someone to pass the time? Where did he go when he wasn’t with me? Who did he text? What did he spend his money on? Who did he spend his money on? God, the list of vulnerabilities that circled my head like a spin cycle went on and on and on. I constantly lost at life, I wanted to bow out before it became too difficult to do so.

  I’d been a ball of uptight elastic strings ready to snap for three days. When you threw in what my sister had gone through - running and hiding was the perfect solution. I hadn’t slept properly in what felt like forever, my bird like diet was doing no one any favours, and my zest for life was like flat lemonade, no bubbles.

  Something had to give, and it wasn’t going to be my health or sanity. Seeing as Ryder was the problem, I’d made the decision to leave. But what a fucking cowardly way to do it. Gave him no reasons, no truths, just snuck out.

  Good one, Taylor. Good one.

  I didn’t even know if I wanted to come back. The accidental breaking of my Christmas present from Ryder seemed way too symbolic. So many changes were coming, and I was getting to the point where I didn’t know which way was up anymore. I knew only two things - everything I thought I had was a lie, and I had to stay safe and healthy. There was more at stake than solely me.

  When I’d spoken to my father, he’d warned me I was making a mistake, doing the wrong thing. I was resolute in my decision. The further up the motorway I drove in the dead of night, the better I felt. Like I could screw my head on properly and breathe easier. By the time I’d reached my dad’s I was bleary eyed, starving yet confident I had done the right thing by leaving.

  Until Ryder had called.

  Until the email came.

  Until the postman had been and gone.

  I ended up right back down where I’d started - full of doubt, loathing and fear. The scariest thing of all? Losing. Losing my carefully planned out existence. Someone was hell bent on taking it all from me, to destroy the life I’d built with the man I adored. I didn’t know who the woman was, but it was clear she knew me. Definitely knew Ryder. Intimately. I had no problem with his bygone days, we all had one. The problem I had was his past seemed intent on coming to meet my present and possibly my future. If it even was his past. It looked like he still lived it, or that’s what someone wanted me to believe.

  I wasn’t stupid, someone was trying to cause waves, great big fucking storm of the century waves, and it was working. I should have asked him, but I’d stopped myself, leaving in the middle of the night.

  Running away...

  And a week later, it was so much worse than it was to begin with. If I’d thought the first few pictures from this unknown woman were deplorable, they were nothing compared to what had come since. I looked at each photo once only, then put them all in an envelope, not daring to peek at my heartbreak a second time.

  When I felt better, stronger, then I’d ask Ryder. Show him. See, people lie and although I’d had no reason to believe he’d ever lied to me, the photographs said otherwise. I’d been content with him, thought I’d seen the same devotion in him when he looked at me. We’d spent most of our time together when we weren’t working, I didn’t think you could fake the emotions he’d shown. Perhaps I was wrong, and he had me a good one. Perhaps I was the one who came second, not first like I’d thought.

  It was there. In black and white, in pictures and texts, in dates and memories. I couldn’t ignore the knife cutting shards from my heart with each passing day.

  I loved him. I did. But I loved me more. There was no way on this earth I was going down that road with him. He wasn’t getting the opportunity to destroy me, put me on my knees and turn me into a woman who didn’t know her worth.

  I needed the next few months to be easy. If there was anything to fight for, then I would when I felt capable, but not right then. I didn’t have it in me. There were far more important things to deal with, Ryder got bumped to the bottom of my list. Second best was not where I wanted to be, not with him, not ever.

  Leaving had been the right thing to do. I couldn’t see a future, not when it looked like he still lived in his past.

  Three

  Two weeks.

  That’s how long I’d thrown myself into work for. I ate there, slept there - barely leaving unless I had to. Going back to Taylor’s flat was a distant hell on earth I didn’t want to entertain. I stayed in the barely put together annexe at the back of the restaurant, hitched up a camp bed and piled three duvets on top. It was so chilly without the hot water bottle that was Taylor. I hardly slept, which meant I watched a ton of Netflix on the laptop. When it hurt too much thinking about her, I’d turn to badly acted porn in an effort to chase those orgasmic endorphins that were meant to make one feel good. They didn’t. The orgasms were always empty, the porn terrible. Plastic tits weren’t doing it for me. My dick was as depressed and limp as I was without Taylor. Go figure. My mojo had never been broken, and there I was - snapped in half.

  I’d stayed out of everyone’s way for fear of losing my shit at the slightest thing. Laura gave me a wide berth which was most likely for the best, I didn’t want to be grilling her about her sister and knew I would if I stopped in her presence. Lucca was pretending to give me space, he knew where I was and what I was doing hourly. I swear the fucker
had a tag on me.

  Annoying as hell? Yes!

  Being a good friend? Absolutely! I appreciated his concern but did my best to show otherwise. His caring was a comfort I only let myself enjoy at arm’s length. If the man cuddled me, like he had a habit of doing, I’d crumble. I wasn’t ready for him yet.

  My girlfriend was another matter altogether. Pinning her down long enough to get a few decent sentences over the phone was growing increasingly difficult. Sometimes she didn’t even answer. I couldn’t decide which emotions were the strongest anymore - hurt, anger, confusion? All three competed for the coveted top spot. I was at a loss, didn’t know how to even start mending bridges and getting her to come home. Conversations between us were either heated or tepid, threats to appear at her father’s door were met mostly with - ‘Don’t you fucking dare!’

  I must have looked like a fucking idiot most of the time, not knowing if I was coming or going. Head always dipped, shoulders slumped. God, I even shuffled like an old man when I walked, I was so despondent with life.

  Then, Lucca announced Laura was off to her dad’s, off to see Taylor. Difference was, whether he said it or not, Laura was coming back to him. He had no reason to doubt her. The pair were so lovey dovey, it was almost sickening. Lucca had found his life’s great love, seeing him with Laura and all the love they shared was what warmed me most days. That my brother was getting what he deserved at long last.

  And yeah, I was jealous, so insanely jealous. What he had, I thought I’d had too, until Taylor blindsided me. That was one emotion I’d known how to keep under wraps. I wasn’t green with envy in a way that made me snarky and bitter, no - it was a neat kind of jealousy. A yearning.

  “I’m not sure when she’ll be back.” Lucca said uncertainly, like he was doubting Laura when he had no need.

  I listened to him with half an ear as I stared out across the water, thinking how great it would be to sail away, take Taylor and live on a boat where no one could interfere, where she couldn’t run away from our problems. But fuck, what was the problem? How did we get so lost in this quagmire of...what? What exactly?