Crush Crush

Chapter Eleven

I thought about Chloe's words as Stacy's sister drove us home. Stacy didn't drink and offered to drive my car home for me. I agreed and let her drive me home, her sister following us. Once we got to my house, I thanked her a dozen times and promised her she could borrow my dress anytime. I waved my thanks to her sister, whose name I didn't remember, as they backed out of the driveway.

I glanced at Ryder's driveway to find his car missing. He must still be at the club. A pinch in my heart caused me to wonder if he was planning to pick up another club groupie and bring her home just for me to see her escape tomorrow morning.

I pushed that thought down. He told me he didn't do that anymore. He was telling the truth, right? I shook my head as I closed the door behind me, locking it. We weren't even dating. I had no claim to him, just as he had no claim to me. But I couldn't imagine letting someone else kiss me or hold me the way Ryder did. Nor could I bear to think about another woman touching him.

God! This is so confusing.

I decided, as I leaned against the front door, thinking about Ryder, that I was going to confront him about our relationship. I needed a label on what we were and what we weren't. I needed to know boundary lines, if there were any. I sighed and pushed myself off the door. The effects of the alcohol had faded a while ago, so I was able to walk across the tile without stumbling. I dumped my bag on the kitchen counter and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, glancing at the digital clock above the oven.

12:40 a.m.

I briefly wondered what time Ryder was going to come home, then dismissed the thought. I had to try and remain detached until he actually told me what he wanted from this so far mostly sexual relationship.

A shadow moved from the corner of my eye. The water bottle slipped from my fingers as I spun to face the dark figure standing in the dining room. Water spilled over the tile, but I ignored the cool liquid pooling at my feet. "Ryder?"

The shadow didn't answer. It moved toward me. It was small—much smaller than Ryder. I felt my heart beat rapidly. Panicked, I lunged for the phone at the same time the small body launched at me, knocking me sideways into the counter. I managed to block my face before claws could scratch it to bits. I shouted in pain as cuts appeared on my forearms, blood splattering onto the floor.

I reached for my attacker and felt long, silky hair. Woman. I yanked at her hair; she yelped and jumped back. I reached for a knife in the drawer beside the stove, lifting the weapon high as she lunged for me again. I thrusted the knife downward, but missed her chest, skimming her shoulder. She hissed in pain, grabbing my hair and pulling me down to the tiled floor. I struggled against her grip in my hair. A foot stomped on my wrist, forcing the knife to scatter across the floor. I grabbed the arm holding my hair, pulling her down to the ground and jabbing my elbow up, making contact with her eye.

She shrieked, releasing my hair. I scrambled across the floor, grabbing the knife off the floor and the wireless home phone off its cradle on the counter. I started dialing, putting the phone to my ear. Silence, not even a dial tone. I tried to flick on a light to clearly see my attacker, but the switch did nothing. I tried a couple other ones nearby—useless.

She fucking cut out the power!

I growled, carefully watching her as I inched toward the slider that led outside. She stood shakily. "You bitch!" she wailed, lunging for me.

I grabbed the handle to the slider door, unlocking it and throwing it open. Her arms wrapped around my neck and hair, yanking me backward before I could take a step outside. She shoved me away from the slider and I crashed against the opposite wall, against which was where my mom kept most of her vases in a china hutch. They were collected from every country she and my dad visited on their month-long escapes. My body destroyed the entire right side of the hutch, taking down most of Europe's finest crystal vases.