13. Evangeline

The fact that they know already is weighing heavily on my chest. How much do they know, though? Is that why Ryder is being so nice to me right now? Is he just making sure I'm safe so that his baby is protected?

I'm starting to feel better, but my body still aches and I have a cough that won't go away yet. I'm forced to play nice while I try to assess just how much Ryder knows.

Does he realize that I'm the one they took upstairs that night in the club? Has he put two and two together now, that the timing lines up with our rendezvous?

Despite my anxiety, Ryder never brings up the pregnancy again, even when I expect him to.

"Are you feeling any better today?" he asks, coming in to check on me after a long nap. I woke up with a headache that morning.

"Much better," I tell him. "I'm nearly ready to be up and working again," I admit. "But I was just thinking about how you told me about your dad and how you were raised." I'd had a dream about my own father, something unsettling that ended with me nearly in tears as I avoid being hit by a thrown bottle.

"Sorry I unloaded on you like that," Ryder apologizes. I wave a hand.

"Don't be. I had a similar upbringing. My dad didn't raise me to run a crime family, but he definitely raised me with strict, impossible standards. But that was because he was an alcoholic and so he'd get drunk and contradict himself on a daily basis about what I was expected to do."

Ryder's eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yeah. My mom died when I was young, and he never got over it. So, he started drinking to numb the pain, and he took out his frustrations on me."

"Shit, that sucks," Ryder says, voice gentle. "Did he hurt you?"

"A little, but he was mostly just cruel with his words and demanding."

"Abuse doesn't need to be physical to stay with you," Ryder said, a faraway look in his eyes. "Is that why you took the job here?"

"Yeah, I needed to get away. Now that I'm an adult, my dad has no say in my life anymore, so I took the first job that got me the hell out of there. I love him, and I know it was tough to lose Mom, but he let his demons carry him away from the person he used to be. I couldn't be around him any longer."

"You're pretty kind for someone who grew up with a shit father," Ryder remarks. "Most people wouldn't be so understanding."

"I think there's good in everyone," I tell him. "You have to be willing to look, though, and see past the fa?ade they present to the world."

Ryder frowns at this. "Is that why you stayed here so long even after we were cruel to you?"

I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to explain things to him without bringing up the baby. "Yeah, kind of. I thought maybe if I just worked hard enough, I could impress you enough to make you stop hating me."

"Our father taught us a few lessons on how to treat women and household staff that I'm realizing now we need to unlearn," Ryder admits. "I don't think there's much you could have done to make us stop acting like assholes."

"Sometimes, it was nice," I say softly. At Ryder's incredulous expression, I clarify. "I don't mean being tormented was nice. But when you guys would give me a list of chores to do and I had to fulfill them quickly, I started to feel relief. I didn't have to think. I didn't have to figure anything out. I could just do whatever you asked and turn off my brain."

The corner of Ryder's mouth tugs upward into a small smile. "You like being bossed around?" he asks, leaning forward.

"I guess maybe a little," I say, blushing. I feel so self-conscious now, admitting that I liked the way they told me what to do and how to do it.

"What about the baby's father?" Ryder asks, changing the subject as though he picked up on my discomfort.

"He… he's not… involved," I tell him, choosing my words carefully. Guilt eats at me for concealing the truth, but our relationship has just started to improve. I can't bring myself to throw a grenade on it and shake up the rocky foundation.

"I see." Ryder nods, a small frown on his face. "He run out on you or something?"

"No," I say, shaking my head. "More like he just can't be involved for certain reasons." Ryder sits back, mulling this over.

"A good guy would make it work if he really cared," he grumbles. I almost want to laugh at the idea of his being angry at a make-believe person, but I hide my smile.

"I don't want to talk about him anymore," I say. "Maybe we can play cards again instead?"

He'd been teaching me blackjack, poker, and gin the past few days. I loved gin the best, but blackjack was also addicting.

"I have a better idea," Ryder suggests. "I know we made your life a living hell, but I want to make it up to you. I know you probably think of me as a player, but I'm not just all talk."

He reaches out, running a hand over my blanket-clad thigh. "I saw the way you looked at us that night, the night we came into your room. You wanted it just as much as we did that night. Let me make you feel good, Eva," he says. His fingers dance over the blanket, stopping just short of pulling it down to expose my lower half.

My eyes widen and my heart beats hard in my chest. Am I truly going to let Ryder touch me again? My body decides for me, and I push the covers aside, a boldness creeping over me as I stare into his lust-hazed eyes.

Ryder lets out a low chuckle and climbs onto the bed carefully, pushing my nightdress up my body until it's above my waist before carefully tugging down the pink lace panties I've got on.

He stares at me, tongue darting out to lick his lips, and I blush from head to toe but let my legs fall open for him.

With less than a second of warning, his mouth descends on me, tongue lapping out to lick a wet stripe from top to bottom.

I let out a shaky moan, and my head falls back onto the pillow, clutching the sheet under my hands. Ryder's tongue goes to work, painting a masterpiece over my clit with every stroke, slick slowly leaking out of me as he works.

"God," I moan, clutching the sheets harder. His nose catches the side of my clit, and one hand shoots out, gripping his hair tightly. Encouraged by my reaction, he bends my knees and dives deeper with his tongue, eating me out like he's a starving man.

I feel myself falling over the edge before I can even think, and suddenly, I'm releasing all over his face. "Oh, god," I whisper again, covering my face with a hand.

"Don't worry," Ryder says, sitting up on his heels. "It's really hot." He licks his fingers clean before gently replacing my panties, pulling my nightdress down, and tucking me back into bed. "Hope that at least made up for things a little," he says.

I giggle from behind my spread fingers. "It was a good start," I tell him. He grins.

The next day, I'm finally well enough to move around. I need to pick up some prenatal vitamins, according to Dr. Monroe, and Ryder offers to go, but I insist, telling him that I'm sick of being in bed.

In town, I stop for a fancy smoothie at a cafe, indulging my latest craving for fruit. "I'll pay for the lady," a man says behind me.

I turn and spot a tall man with a full beard and black-rimmed glasses wearing a rumpled suit and a badge around his neck. He's a detective, I realize.

"Am I in trouble?" I ask, only half-joking.

"Nothing of the sort. I recognize you from the background check that Fitz asked me to run when he hired you," the man says. "I'm Daniel Stone, detective with Havencrest Police Department but also a friend of the Everharts."

"Oh," I say, realization dawning. "Nice to meet you. I'm Evangeline."

"That I do know," Daniel says, a warm smile on his face. "You're one of their new maids."

"Yep." I nod. "I've been there for about a month or so now."

I half expect him to tell me good luck or joke about how the brothers can be demanding, but he beams. "It's so great working for the Everharts, isn't it?" he asks. I blink, taken aback.

"It is?" I ask, my voice going a little high-pitched.

"I grew up with them," Daniel says. "We were childhood friends. They protected me from bullies back then, and then they helped me pass my detective exam. I owe them so much."

I'm still trying to process the fact that they have real, actual friends outside of the Callahan gang. "That… is very nice of them," I agree.

"Theo talked about you when we went for coffee last week," he adds. "He seemed quite taken with you."

I let out a snort, and Daniel tilts his head, confusion washing over him.

"Nothing," I say, shaking my head. "It's nothing. They've been taking care of me," I say, bending the truth a little.

"Good," Daniel nods. "Let me buy your drink, and then I'll let you get on your way. You've really seemed to be good for them. They seem so much less stressed than they have in a long time."

I have no idea how to respond to that, so instead, I nod, keeping my mouth shut, and let him pay for my smoothie.

Once I'm done, I head out and try to wrap my brain around the new information I just learned. The Everharts are actually capable of being nice people? When do I get to see that side of them? Will I ever get to see this soft side that others seem to see?

I shake my head and walk down the street to the drugstore, still chuckling over Daniel's comments.