Worse for Hope- Book #2 in the WF Series

Chapter 40: Past

✿Bethane's POV:✿

"Rider, who are those people?" I try to take him out of his random haze.

He snaps out of it, looking back at them and then at me.

"My parents," he answers, unable to process that he just said that out loud.

My eyes widen as I snap my head around to see them again. I look back and see Rider back in a state where he can't focus on anything else besides what he's witnessing standing so close to him.

"Rider?" I call in worry since I know about his past with his parents. I know that they gave him up because they thought he was too stupid which is the most disgusting thing ever. It's also the most incorrect thing ever.

"Come with me." He grabs me around my waist and oddly pulls me towards them.

"Rider, what are you-."

"Hi, do you guys know where to find the closest bus station?" he takes us up to his parents and asks them before I can say anything about it.

I guess we're doing this.

They both look over at us from speaking to one another. Their eyes meet Rider's, but not in the way I think Rider had expected them to meet.

"Yes, it's about three blocks down," the woman answers while smiling at me and him.

Rider takes a second.

"Thanks." I can tell that the forced smile he puts on is to show that he's fine when he's the exact opposite.

He pulls me away immediately as my heart breaks for him.

~~~~

Rider ordered us an Uber, and the entire way back, he wouldn't say anything. Nothing but a repetitive "I'm fine" each time I would ask him if he was okay.

We walk into his apartment, and he's about to head to the bedroom so he can avoid this, but I can't. I can't let him keep something like this to himself and never speak about it.

"Rider!" I tug him back gently, making him stop and finally face me.

He looks completely distraught and I hate it. I hate how his eyes are screaming, but he's keeping it inside. I hate how hurt he is, but he's pushing it away so no one will see it. I hate how he never opens up about things that are or have had an effect on him.

"I'm fine," he says as almost a whisper.

I don't think I've ever heard a more heartbroken whisper. The crack in his voice literally almost makes me sob for him even though he hasn't said anything.

"It's okay to not be fine," I softly try to get him to open up or else I know it'll keep eating away at him until he'll eventually lose it.

"I mean, my own parents don't remember who I am. That's completely fine." He shrugs, his words beginning to turn bitter.

"Rider-," I grow more worried.

"It's not like I had to grow up without parents as a fucking six-year-old or get beaten for breathing because that was all my fault." He points at himself with anger. "I got cigars burned on every part of my body, belts whipped on my back, vases thrown at my fucking head, but hey, at least I didn't bring my family's status down."