Ocean Eyes

Complete

"You deserve a love so big it dims the sky and sets fire to the stars. A love so expansive, it weaves constellations so you never forget who you are."
-Unknown

Mongo had picked a rather awful day to stall. By the time Ryder had managed to get the truck alive, it was fifteen minutes past six and she was soaked.

The rain had started only minutes before she was due to leave, yet it fell with an unharnessed power. Each drop careened down from the sky, the orb of water drenching anything and everything beneath it. It was a cold rain, Washington was well into November and the weather was becoming unforgiving. Ryder's jeans and hoodie did little to keep her warm.

But the buzzing excitement inside her stomach left her barely noticing the flurry of water and the rumbling thunder.

She hadn't seen Paul for a few days, since he'd stopped by the shop to see her at her weakest. Yet somehow she didn't feel scared to see him again, to face the man she'd tried to hide her vulnerability from. She wanted to be strong, she'd built up walls but Paul kept breaking them down. And she wanted to hate him for it but she just couldn't.

The way he had acted the other day was engraved into her mind. He had been sweet and kind, and he hadn't pressed her for answers. She knew he wanted to know why she was crying, she saw it eating him up inside, but he hadn't pressured her into saying anything. And to Ryder Kane, that spoke volumes of his character.

The drive to Paul's seemed longer than ever before. The sky was covered in dark clouds and rivulets of rain, the ocean a mass of gray waves and rushing currents. The green trees looked almost black in the low light, and they thrashing viciously side to side in the wind. The roads were empty and Ryder couldn't help but feel a small ache of discomfort. It wasn't too late, just past six, yet there was no one in sight.

An aching feeling filled her bones and Ryder bit her lip, willing away the mysterious sadness that had enveloped her. She was on her way to see Paul, the caring and amazing boy who she was falling hard for. Why should she be feeling like a cold bucket of water had been dumped down her spine?

Ryder had just turned onto Paul's street when a car skidded in front of her. It was small and red, the sort of opulent sports car that didn't belong in a town like La Push. Upon closer inspection she could see the fender was marred by rust and the windshield had a thin crack in it, but the driver obviously kept good care of the older model car.

The driver was barely visible in the dark but Ryder was still able to catch sight of his familiar features. The man looked to be middle aged, with a round face and a stubble lined jaw. He sat low in the seat, his knuckles gripping the wheel so tight that they turned white. But it wasn't the mans tenseness or his cropped hair that Ryder took notice of. It was the broad shoulders, the strong jaw, the eyes so dark they looked black.

The man reminded her of Paul Lahote and Ryder realized that it must be his father.

Joe Lahote was known throughout La Push for his harsh temper and knack for alcohol. He had grown up in a rich family, his father a Quiluete elder and his mother a doctor in the nearby hospital. When he was twelve, his mother was discovered to have had an affair with a pale face with forks. She moved out to be with him and Joe was left with his father. It was then that he developed a burning hatred for women. To him they were disgusting creatures, only feasible for sex and child bearing. His mother had cheated and therefore all females were liars- he kept this rage inside him his entire life, kindling it with drugs and alcohol.