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Taking a deep breath, Ryder relaxed his features. The change was startling. Instead of the pissed off, brooding boy, he looked oddly calm. Loving.
“Liz, my love, of course she doesn’t matter to me. She’s just a hoe.” He stumbled over that word, but Liz remained oblivious. I wanted to tell him that I understood, that I didn’t care what he called me, as long as he remained safe. I tried to convey all that and more in my eyes.
Call me a bitch. Call me a whore. Say that you hate me.
It would only make me love you more.
The words couldn’t leave my mouth, but I felt them. I most definitely felt them.
“I just want to make sure our ceremony won’t be interrupted,” Ryder continued.
“It won’t be.” Liz waved her hand dismissively. “We have a deal.”
“A deal?”
But Liz was apparently done talking about me, the other woman, for she abruptly turned towards the wooden podium.
“Come. I don’t want the cake to get cold.”
When her back was turned, Ryder finally - finally - met my eyes. In his, I could see a terrible loneliness and hopelessness that made me sick to my stomach. Ryder, my flirtatious rockstar, shouldn’t look like that.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I turned away from Ryder, towards Liz. I didn’t know what I intended to do until I did it. All I knew for certain was that I wanted Liz’s attention off of Ryder. I could deal with her anger and fits of rage in a way that most people couldn’t.
“Hey, Lizzy,” I cooed sweetly, barely registering Ryder’s quick shake of his head. His eyes had widened in terror. Terror for me, I realized. I ignored him.
I waited until Liz had turned towards me fully, eyes clouded with contempt.
Still giving her my shit-eating grin, I said, “Were you aware that your fiancé has been screwing me behind your back?”
If she wanted to play a game, I could play.
And bitch? I never lost.
Liz’s face turned red with anger. She spun on her heel and put her face inches from mine.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she asked slowly. Her eyes could’ve made me drop dead.
“She’s just kidding,” Ryder said. “She’s just trying to get a reaction out of you.”
“Oh, am I?” I asked with a light laugh. My laughter seemed to only infuriate her further. Her lips were pursed as if she was eating something sour. Before I could add anything else, her fist connected with my face.
Ryder let out an anguished gasp, but I kept my face impassive even as it began to ache.
“Is that all you got?” I teased. “No wonder Ryder seeks me out. He does like it rough.”
Another punch.
My head jerked to the side; I tasted copper in mouth. Spitting out the excess blood, I gave Liz a toothy grin. I was vaguely aware of Ryder screaming at Liz. Begging her to stop.
I mentally berated him. He had to stop acting like he cared. Couldn’t he tell I was doing this for him?
“I wrote you a song!” Ryder shouted, and Liz paused, fist extended as if she wanted to punch me yet again. At his proclamation, she dropped her arm and smiled brilliantly at him.
“You did?”
“Yeah!” Ryder was shaking his head animatedly, but I could see his hands shaking. He was terrified.
“You haven’t written a new song in years,” Liz said dreamily. She perched herself on one of the many folding chairs, ignoring the stuffed turtle already residing there, and gestured for Ryder to continue.
