"Marie," he said, my name a soft prayer above my head.
"Shhh," I crooned. "You don't have to tell me."
"But I do," he whispered. "You need to know why I understand." Understand?
I wanted to pull back and look at his face, see what his eyes told me. But he tightened his grip, securely locking me in place against his heart. His hand even coming up, and pushing my cheek into his chest, right where I could hear his heartbeat.
He turned his face and kissed me softly in amongst my hair. The water still rained down around us, the steam rose in soft puffs of misted air. It was intimate, but by no means sexual. A heavy weight hung in the shower stall, heavier than the water drenched atmosphere should have been.
"I got to know her," he whispered in a rough edged voice. "We became friends of sorts. I knew why she'd given me up, I accepted it. She'd had no choice. Her partner at the time had been powerful, physically and socially. A well known player in the local Auckland political scene. He denied parenting me, made her give me up for adoption, and like so many I have seen since, she believed she had no choice, nowhere else to turn. She believed he was all there was and she took him however she could get him."
A shattered breath of air went in and when he exhaled his entire body shook. My throat closed over with emotion, my eyes blurred with tears. This was killing him. Reliving it. I wanted him to stop, yet I knew he wouldn't now. Once Ryan made his mind up, it was set in stone. No one could stop him.
But those words. Spoken with a type of weary knowledge. Like so many I have seen since, she believed she had no choice, nowhere else to turn. This was why he protected people. And at a guess, I would say most of those he protected were women and children, escaping an environment that was not good.
Is this what he meant by understanding? He understood why I was hiding, why I was running, even though my dangerous environment didn't include a partner or husband as such, but those who were connected to me through Rick.
"I tried to get her to leave," he went on. "He didn't live with her, just visited her when it suited him. When his other lovers weren't in favour, he sought my mother out."
Visited her. Where? I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly where.
"He found out about me. Found out who I was and why I was coming around. She defended our friendship. She shouldn't have. She should have walked away, but it was too late for her by then. Even when she saw the writing on the wall, she still didn't have it in her to walk away. She said she loved him and that he loved her, despite how he behaved, she said he needed her. I didn't understand then. I do now."
He stroked down my back, a soft, haunting caress. His cheek nuzzled into my hair.
"It takes courage," he murmured. "More than most have left. Just surviving is all they can do, anything else would break them. I wasn't in a place to give her what she needed then. I was still young. Not even twenty. I didn't know I could have helped. I've spent the rest of my life making sure I don't make that same mistake again. I have dedicated my professional career to providing courage when they have none left. Giving them that someone to lean on when they can barely stand upright anymore." He sucked in a deep, tortured breath of air and added, in a voice that sounded almost childlike, "But I was too late for my mother."
"Ryan," I said, my voice cracking.
He pulled me back from his warm body and looked down into my eyes, let me see the agony he felt, the pain that still tormented him. Let me see the promise that he'd given me that first day in my office; compassion, understanding, and the chance to lean on another person in order to survive. I'd seen it then, maybe not completely recognised it, but he'd made the offer. And he'd obviously made the same promise of protection to others before me too. Abi? She'd said she hadn't stopped running until she met Ben and Pierce.
This is what he does. A knight in shining armour, disguised by the façade of a modern day cop. Ryan Pierce was a hero. My God, he was such a good man. I felt overwhelmed to have met him, to have gotten this close to someone this inherently decent. My heart swelled with pride, and then filled with sadness, because his story wasn't at an end.
"He was unstable," he whispered, eyes holding mine as much for an anchor, as to ensure I comprehended what he next said. "Volatile, easily enraged. I should have known what he was capable of. I have never underestimated another since."
His eyes closed slowly, his head tipped back and he inhaled through his nose; once, twice, three times. Then intense brown was staring back at me, bringing the world down to just me and him.
"He shot her three times in the chest." Oh, fuck. "Twice in the head." No! Please no.