Chapter 42

Tara

After a long hot shower, complete with Ryker eating me for breakfast, we get dressed and head out of the club. No matter how many questions I ask, I can't figure out where he's taking me. The excitement's palpable between us and let me just say, Ryker Hudson has the best genuine smile I've ever seen.

Dressed in a charcoal grey t-shirt, dark jeans, and combat boots—he looks scrumptious as we walk over to one of three motorcycles parked in a row.

Ry hands me a helmet. "Put this on, Butterfly."

"I've never ridden on a motorcycle before." I think he likes being part of my first experience with many things, if I'm reading that grin of his correctly.

He climbs on the bike and holds it steady for me for me to mount up. Badass level unlocked!

I graze his ribs with my nails and hold his shirt while he starts the engine and backs us up. I'm so excited I could squeal.

"Hold on to me tighter than that, Tara." When I don't comply, the bike jerks forward and slams to a stop, making me crash into his back. My ass left the seat! Holy shit, that was scary. My grip tightens around him like an anaconda. "Good girl."

Ryker blazes through traffic, cutting between cars. Every time I think I know which direction we're heading, I'm wrong. Twenty minutes later, we pull up to a butterfly conservatory. There's only one car in the parking lot.

Leaving my helmet on the seat, we walk towards the front door where there's a big, "CLOSED" sign.

"Damn." I would have loved to see this place. I've never been here before.

Ryker's not disappointed like me. Hell, he doesn't even seem surprised that it's closed. That devious smile is back on his handsome face as he pulls out his cell and texts someone.

I narrow my gaze. "What are you up to, Mr. Hudson?"

"No good." A few seconds tick by and the door opens. "Thanks for this, Max."

"Lock up when you're done." The employee hands him the keys and walks out.

"You got it." Ryker holds the door for me and tips his head. "After you."

Something tells me he had this planned in advance. "Are private tours another club perk?"

"No, it's a Ryker perk." He laces our fingers together and leads me through a lobby with a gift shop, educational posters, and a circular ticket desk. Bumping a black rubbery door with his back, we enter a dark space that's warm and muggy. "I think after this, I'll have entirely bared my soul to you," he says, pushing through another black door.

We step into a jungle.

Huge tropical trees, flowers, and low-lying plants give the vibe of a wild fairy forest. There's a well-worn yellow brick road painted on the concrete floor with little arrows guiding us through the building. A huge black butterfly net drapes two stories above us. It's incredibly humid and colorful. Long, skinny pedestals stick out of the ground with bowls full of watermelon slices and other fruits. Butterflies flutter all over the place—on branches, blooms, and the feeding bowls.

A tiny white one flies over Ryker's head and lands on the railing that keeps visitors from encroaching on their territory.

"That's a cabbage white." Ryker watches it closely. "They only live one to two weeks, usually."

I had no idea butterflies had such short lives. "She's so sweet." There's a tiny black dot on her wings that looks adorable. She takes off only to land on Ryker's head.

This is just too cute.

"That over there," he says, pointing at a blue and black one, "is a red-spotted purple butterfly. It likes to eat dead things, sap, rotten fruit, and shit."

"Tasty." I lean over the railing for a better look. The wings are almost metallic blue and I wonder if they'd feel like velvet. "How long do they live?"

"A week or two," he says, softly.

"Butterflies don't live very long."

"Nothing really does." He pushes away from the railing. The butterfly on his head flies off and heads over to a purple cone-shaped flower. "I used to come here a lot in the beginning."

We take our time strolling through the conservatory. There's so much to see and learn. The only sound in the place is from the mist machines and the trickle of an artificial water feature. It's lovely.

"Knox used to work here in high school. He'd let me in through the back and I'd sit and just… be." Ryker drops onto a bench and stretches his arms over the back of it.

Directly across is a monarch plaque. The black and orange butterflies, however, are nowhere to be seen. Did they all die? Are they sleeping? Hiding?

Orange slices sit untouched on a plate by some rocks.

"What do monarchs eat?" I sit next to him.

"Nectar." His gaze slides over to me and slips down to the apex of my thighs. "They eat and reproduce a lot."

"Sounds like a good life."

Ryker huffs a laugh and looks up. "They like being in clusters."

Well, what do you know, there they are. A bunch flutter their wings slowly on the top of a tree. "They're a family."

He shakes his head, as if my answer is adorable. Resting my head against his shoulder, I close my eyes and let the warm, muggy air sink into my system. Ryker keeps quiet and runs his fingers along my arm.

I've never felt so peaceful before. So safe and content.

That this is only hitting me now has me wanting to say a million things, but I'm not about to ruin this moment with the hauntings of my past. Besides, it doesn't matter anymore.

Ryker kisses the top of my head. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"I don't want to say."

"This place has heard a lot of secrets, Tara. It's a judgement free zone."

I can only imagine how many things a younger Ryker has said in this space when no one was around. He's baring his soul, bringing me here, showing me exactly why he named his club the Monarch. It's because life is beautiful and short. And the place where you can show your true nature should be safe and lovely. Judgement free.

Or maybe I'm overthinking it.

"You don't have to share if you really don't want to."

I know. "I was just thinking that this is the first time I've felt peace before."

Ryker's head lifts off mine, and he looks down at me with hard eyes. He clenches his molars.

"My mom had two other husbands before William. They were awful. It always starts out sweet and ends with them screaming at each other. Her boyfriends in between were worse. So much screaming and violence."

"Did…" He stops and takes in a breath. "Did any of them…"

"None of them ever raised a hand to me, if that's what you're worried about." He relaxes considerably. "All but Garret." He tenses again. "Honestly, I don't know if I blame him for hating me."

"He should have never laid a hand on you, Tara."

"Yeah, but I was a bitch to him." I sound like my mother excusing Garret's bad behavior. "Our parents got married when we were fifteen. He hated my mom because she looks a lot like his mother, who passed away a year prior to William dating my mom. I think my mom knew that because she dyed her hair dark when she started dating William and my mother's a natural dirty blonde like me. She never dyed her hair that color before."

"That's…"

"Speculation," I say, quickly. "Also a little unhinged."

"Why does Garret take his hate for her out on you?"

"Oh, I earned it. I slept with his best friend in high school. In his bed. During a party he was throwing."

"Damn."

"I didn't do it to piss him off. I was just curious and reckless and wanted to have fun. It was the first time I got spanked."

Ryker's brow lifts to his hairline. "How was it?"

"It was great. Too great. The harder he spanked, the louder I screamed. That caught Garret's attention, and he barged in just as his friend came all over my face."

He whistles.

"He hated me before, but he made life absolute hell after that. He's never stopped, honestly. In retaliation for sleeping with his bestie, the fucker cut the crotch out of all my underwear and wrote slut across my mirrors in black sharpie and on my face while I was sleeping."

"That's juvenile."

"Yeah, well, I put laxatives in his Gatorade sporadically to make up for it."

"You're diabolical."

"Aren't I?" Pride makes me less guilty about it. Fuck Garret. He's done worse to me, but I'm not going to tell Ryker about the worst parts. What's done is done. And now it's over. "Any anger he has now can be redirected elsewhere. I'm not going to take his Daddy's company, and I don't even want the trust fund William set up for me to have after I've put my time into Brisbane Realty. Garret can have it all, just like he's always wanted."

I twist around and straddle Ryker's lap.

I feel free. Untouchable.

Walking away from my troubles is already the best thing I've ever done for myself. And I'm sure the company is already buzzing with the mass email I sent saying goodbye and attaching my resignation letter for everyone to read.

My mother will have an aneurism when she finds out. Too bad, so sad. She'll get over it. I'm done bending over backwards so she can have a "happy life" with someone she "loves". It's bullshit and I'm over it.

"What are you thinking about now?" Ryker runs his hands through my hair, tucking some of it behind my ears.

"About us."

"What about us?"

Our time is up at the end of the month. What happens then? All my questions lodge in my throat.

Ryker holds the back of my head and brings me in for a kiss. "I'm not going anywhere, Butterfly. Are you?"

"No," I whisper, relief rushing through me. "I want to stay."

"Then stay," he whispers against my mouth. "Stay for however long you can."

A zebra striped butterfly lands on the back of the bench by his hand, reminding me how life is so fragile, so fleeting.

Ryker rubs his nose along my neck. He kisses and licks my sensitive skin, massaging the back of my head while he holds me in place on his lap. "Let me keep you."

I close my eyes and let the moment sweep me up into the fantasy that Ryker keeping me is actually possible.