Page 39 of Deserving Ryleigh
“Trust me,” Tiny cajoled.
To his joy, she reached for the bottle, sniffing the contents suspiciously. Her nose wrinkled at the pungent scent. Then she smelled it again and smiled. “It’s watermelon?” she guessed.
“Yup. It’s sweet, but not too sweet. It’s really good over ice, but this’ll have to do for now.”
She took a cautious sip and winced as it slid down her throat. But after she’d swallowed the potent alcohol, she licked her lips and smiled wider. “The aftertaste is like I just ate a watermelon Jolly Rancher.”
“You like it?”
“I think so.”
“Take another sip,” Tiny ordered.
She did. Then she handed the bottle back to him, and Tiny took a healthier swallow. He could feel the alcohol burning its way down his throat, a subtler warmth following in its wake. They passed the bottle back and forth a few times before he capped it and put it back in hisbag. His intention was to get Ryleigh to relax, not get her blotto drunk.
“This isn’t going to get me to like being in the wild outdoors,” she told him after a moment.
Tiny chuckled. “I didn’t think it would. But you have to admit, this place is nice.”
“It is,” she said without hesitation. “But it would be nicer if it was right outside our cabin and we didn’t have to walk for miles and miles and hours and hours to get here.”
Tiny laughed again. “But then it wouldn’t be as peaceful as it is. There would be people climbing up here all day. Someone would probably fall off the top and we’d have to rescue them. Some asshole would probably sneak out here in the middle of the night and spray paint graffiti all over the place.”
“Cynical, but you’re probably right,” Ryleigh agreed.
They sat in companionable silence for a minute or two, then Tiny mentally shrugged his shoulders and wrapped an arm around Ryleigh, pulling her against him. She came easily enough and rested her head against his shoulder, as he held her close.
“I feel as if I know nothing about you,” Ryleigh said after a moment. “I mean, I know about that bitch Sonja, and that you were a SEAL, but that’s about it.”
Tiny had no problem opening up to this woman. Somehow with all the time they’d spent together, despite him resisting for so long, she’d snuck under his shields.
“I had a pretty good childhood. I told you about my brother. He was my best friend. My rock. We thought our lives were normal. But when I was twelve, I realized hownotnormal my life was. Our parents fought. A lot. I just thought that’s how everyone’s parents were. Then oneevening, I was over at a friend’s house, and his mom dropped the Crock-Pot with dinner in it, and it shattered. Food and shards of pottery wenteverywhere. There was soup literally on every cupboard and in every nook and cranny of their kitchen.
“I froze, knowing what was going to happen next. His dad would leap up from the table and start screaming at his mom. Grabbing her arm, hitting her over and over until she begged him to stop. But instead—helaughed. Yes, he leapt up from the table, but just to grab his wife around the waist and plunk her onto the counter, so she wouldn’t step on the broken Crock-Pot and get hurt. And then they laughed together. Hard. When they finally stopped, my friend’s dad cleaned up the kitchen, with our help, while his mom ordered takeout.
“I had normalized the yelling and fighting that my parents did. It was just the way things were, or so I thought. That evening at my friend’s house was eye-opening. And confusing. From that day forward, I hated being at home, so I joined every sport and organization I could. Track, swimming, tennis, band, theater…you name it, I did it. Simply so I didn’t have to go home after school. It meant less time with my brother, but he understood better than anyone. And I think my mom knew what I was doing, staying away from the house on purpose because I didn’t want to hear them fighting.
“She loved me, told me all the time…yet she refused to leave him. He wouldn’t leave either. They were so dysfunctional together. And my mom hit my dad as much as he hit her. It was an equal-opportunity abusive relationship. I didn’t understand it then, and even today I don’t get it.”
“How’s their relationship now?” Ryleigh asked. She’dwrapped her arm around his waist while he was talking, and it felt…perfect.
“She’s gone. Dead. One night they got into another fight, and my dad pushed her. Hard. She tripped over her feet and fell, hitting her head on the corner of the stone fireplace. Dad thought she was faking being more injured than she was, and he left the house in disgust. When he got back hours later…she’d bled out.”
Ryleigh gasped. “Oh my God, Tiny… That’s terrible.”
“It’s weird, because in their own way, I think they really did love each other. They were just no good together. Dad’s in prison. Because of the history of abuse, the judge gave him the harshest sentence he could. Twenty years.”
Ryleigh squeezed his waist and snuggled into him. But she didn’t offer platitudes of sympathy or understanding. She simply sat at his side, supporting him, which Tiny appreciated.
“I was out of the house by then. A SEAL already. I think their relationship was part of the reason why I fell for Sonja so hard and fast. I refused to be anything like my parents, vowed to treasure any woman I ended up with. Which was why it hurt so bad when she betrayed me the way she did.”
“Bitch,” Ryleigh muttered under her breath.
Her hatred of his ex made Tiny smile.
“And your brother? Where is he? Do you still talk to him?”
“He died.”
