Her eyes, his lies

Chapter 24

From the moment Ryder had given chase to Beatrice, it had been a whirlwind of action. He had been hot on her heels as they burst from the basement door, and she immediately dived for her baseball bat. Ryder grappled with her over it, surprised at her physical strength.

It must have looked ridiculous to anyone watching as the two of them played a game of tug of war over the bat, with Ryder in the advantage. Both of his feet planted firmly on the floorboards, he gave an impressive wrench with both arms. Beatrice realized she was quickly losing this contest of strength and let go, sending a surprised Ryder flying backwards into a cabinet.

Crushed cans of soda, newspapers, and some sort of unidentifiable gunk flew into the air as he came crashing into the furniture, lances of pain arcing through his back.

"Beatrice! I'm not trying to-" Ryder entreated, before interrupting himself with a lunge to the side. Beatrice had taken advantage of his fall and snatched the bat from the floor. It nearly collided with his head as she swung it downwards. It bounced off the floorboards with a resounding thunk, a circular dent appearing in the wood.

"What's wrong with you, Ryd?! Your dad's gonna hear about this!" Beatrice shouted, turning and attempting to sprint out of the living room.

Ryder instinctually reached out from his spot on the ground, managing to grab her ankle and trip her. She landed with a thud, the bat flying from her hands and into yet another pile of trash. The room was quickly beginning to resemble a landfill.

He opened his mouth, perhaps to try and explain himself again, but Beatrice kicked at him wildly. Her foot grazed the side of his head, the impact forcing his teeth together with a painful clack. She kicked again, this time striking true, and he let go of her leg.

"Joss!" Beatrice shouted as she clambered to her feet. She looked around wildly, searching for her ever-present goon, but realized he must have still been out cold in the basement. Instead, she stooped, and swept the bat from the ground.

Ryder took his chance and came up behind her, his arms wrapping around hers as he tried his best to control her. "Beatrice. Calm down. I'm not trying to hurt you."

He could remember a time, years ago, when he would have held her just like this. When she would have rested her head against his shoulders, and told him about all the aspirations she had for her own future. But that was long before, seemingly an entire lifetime ago. An entire lifetime with a different Beatrice and a different Ryder and a much, much cleaner house.

"Let go of me!" she shouted. Her head rocked back and smashed into Ryder's mouth. He could taste the blood bursting from his lips as he recoiled backwards, nearly blinded by the unexpected impact.

In the flash of a second, Beatrice had violently spun around, following the motion with the bat. She held it extended, swinging with all her might at the spot Ryder had just been. It grazed his hair as he ducked. A deafening crashing sounded from his left as Beatrice's swing traveled far past its intended target, and, instead, embedded itself in her TV. Glass shards flew in every direction, peppering the both of them with tiny cuts.

They stared into each others eyes, Ryder's gaze full of wariness, and hers full of anger. The house was abruptly silent as they gauged one another's intentions, the slightest hint of further violence promising to trigger another bout of grappling.

"Just tell me. Is she worth it?" Beatrice hissed, accusingly.

The both of them were heaving for breath, having expended every ounce of energy they had in their struggle against each other. This gave Ryder a moment of pause, just long enough for him to decide how to word his feelings.