Ryder's POV

It had been two weeks now since Bubba's death and I hadn't seen or spoken to Casey once in those fourteen days. It was driving me insane and I wanted to tear my hair out. The first week I'd understood and had given her space, even though I wanted to be there for her. I wanted to hold her in my arms and let her know that I was there. When she hadn't answered my calls or text, I'd understood and backed off. She was grieving and I respected that. But it was now fourteen days and still, I heard nothing. I was starting to become worried. I needed to know that she was okay, but I didn't want to invade her space.

As I sat in my living room staring at my phone, I heard someone knocking on the front door. Pulling myself up off my couch, I dragged myself toward the door. My dad had gone out with some friends, so I was alone in the house so I really had no idea who could be at the door. The knocking on the door started again and I groaned, shouting that I was coming.

I pulled the door open and drew back at the sight that greeted me. Standing at my door in winter garb, with a hostile glare, was Nissa.

"Um, hey, Nissa—" She pushed past me, bumping into my shoulder in the process, and walked into my house, without a word. I closed the door behind her, rolling my eyes and followed her into the living room.

"Where have you been?" she asked as she paced the room. I watched her and couldn't help but feel it for the girl. Her face was pale and there were dark shadows under her eyes, a clear indication that she was tired. The bones in her collarbone were jutting out slightly and even in winter clothing, she looked a lot thinner than I remembered. "Ryder, I asked you a question."

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean where have I been? I've been home, why?"

"Don't you see what she's doing, Ryder? She's pushing you away! That's what she does. She loses someone and it scares the living crap out of her, so she does the only thing she knows how to do—she retracts into herself and pushes everyone out." My heart stilled in my chest as it dawned on me. That's what she was doing!

"I've tried calling and texting," I pointed out, making Nissa roll tired eyes.

"Go to her, you dumbass! The only way to stop this is to show her that you're not going to let it happen," she informed me and I turned around and headed to the coat room. "Where are you going?" I heard her shout from the living room, before I heard her footsteps approaching me from behind.

"Where do you think?" I grabbed my coat from the hanger, pulled it on and headed to the front door. When Nissa stood in her same spot, I gestured for her, impatiently.

Seeming to snap out of whatever haze she was in, she pulled herself together and began walking towards me. "Atta boy," she quipped as she walked past me on her way out, patting me lightly on the cheek and I raised an eyebrow, shaking my head.

Once she was safely in her car and on her way back to her house, I sped down the familiar street to Casey's house. When I reached the big ass house, I buzzed the intercom and was let in by Nadia.

"Hey, Nadia," I greeted as I walked in the back door. She turned towards me from the stove and smiled.

"Hey, handsome. Long time no see," she answered. Placing some pancakes on the plate next to the stove, she gestured towards them and I shook my head. As much as I wanted to eat those pancakes, I needed to see Casey. She threw me a knowing look and tossed her head in the elevator's direction with a smile. Smiling back, I headed to the elevator.

Casey's room was completely dark when I stepped off the elevator. Every light in the room was turned off and it reeked of food. I waited for my eyes to get adjusted to the darkness, before I raked them across every surface, searching for Casey. When my eyes landed on her body curled up on her bed, the sheets wrapped around her to her chin, I felt my heart break. She was definitely not okay, and I hadn't been here for her.

I stalked over towards her and climbed in. Getting under the covers, I scooted over towards her and wrapped an arm around her, bringing her as close to me as I could.

I felt her shift and scoot closer to me, wrapping an arm around the arm slung around her.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, placing a kiss on the back of her head. When she shook her head, my grip tightened around her and I lifted my head to rest it in the crook of her neck. "Talk to me, baby."

"You're not supposed to be here," she mumbled into her pillow and I sighed.

"Where else am I supposed to be, sweetheart?" I asked her.

"Anywhere else. Anywhere that's far away from me." Her voice shook as she said this and I felt myself grow confused.

"No. This is exactly where I'm meant to be," I mumbled, contradicting her words.

"You don't understand," she forced out, her voice cracking. It was breaking my heart to hear her so broken. I didn't understand the feelings and at the moment, I didn't want to. I just wanted to make her feel better. I just wanted her to stop hurting.

"Then make me understand," I pushed, wanting to understand, so I could fix it.

"I can't. I can't tell you," she whispered with a sniffle. I could feel her pulling away from me and I knew I had to do something quick. If I didn't find a way to let Casey know that I was here to stay, she would pull away from me completely.

I turned her over in the bed, making her face me. What I found almost tore me apart. Her face was stained with tears, her eyes filled with anguish, the pain reflected in them was enough to make me want to kill whoever had put it there. Wiping my thumb across her smooth cheek, I pressed my lips to her forehead. "Why can't you tell me?"

She sniffled, her eyes lowering. "I don't want you to see me differently. Seeing you look at me the way most people do when I tell them, will kill me."

I shook my head vigorously. "I could never look at you differently, sweetheart."

"How do you know that?" she whispered, her voice shaking and filled with uncertainty.

"Because I love you." The words rolled off my tongue before I could stop them and I found that I was okay with it. I was okay with it, because it was true.

I was in love with Casey Stratford. I had fallen in love with her without noticing and those two weeks away from her had made me realize how awful my life was without her. She'd snuck into my heart without my consent and she was there to stay. As I looked at her beautiful face, I knew that I was okay with that.

She sniffled and brought a shaking hand to rest on my cheek. Pressing her lips to mine, she clutched onto me like her life depended on it.

"I love you too, Ryder, and that's why it kills me to do this." I shook my head, knowing what she was going to say.

"Don't you dare," I warned her.

"I have to," she replied, breaking my heart.

"No, you don't," I pleaded with her, but she wasn't listening.

"People around me are always dying. They eventually leave. I'm bad luck, Ryder, and you're going to get caught in the crossfire." I sprung off the bed and stalked over to the light switch and flicked it on.

"Stop it!" I demanded. She pulled herself to a sitting position and brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "Don't make decisions for me, sweetheart! I'm not going anywhere, so you better get used to it."

"Why won't you listen?! I'm trying to protect you!" she exclaimed as tears slid down her cheeks.

"Protect me? Protect me from what? A broken heart? News flash, sweetheart, you're doing that now!" I shouted desperately. I needed her to understand that she wasn't protecting anyone by pulling away from me; she was just hurting us both.

"Everyone around me dies!—my mom...my dad...Bubba and Macy! They're all dead! I killed my sister and my parents and Bubba left me without saying goodbye! Don't you understand that I'm a murderer?" Her voice broke as sobs racked her body, making it shake violently. I wanted so bad to go to her and wrap her in my arms, but the shock I was in, made me freeze. Sister? Casey had a sister?

Back track, you idiot! She just told you she killed them! Why the fuck are you not questioning that? No. There was no way. There was no way, my sweet, innocent Casey could have killed anyone.

"Casey, what are you talking about?" My voice sounded foreign to me as it left my body. She stared at me for a minute, her eyes brimming with tears. I moved to go to her, but she held her arms up, making me stop.

"Nothing." That was a lie. She could never look me in the eyes when she was lying. That was her tell.

"Casey...who's Macy?" I prodded, slowly moving towards her. She gave me a pleading look and took a step away from me. "What are you talking about, Casey?"

"You need to go," she replied, her voice breaking. I breathed in slowly, my eyes fluttering shut.

"No." There was no way in hell that I was walking away from her.

"Please," she pleaded and any other day that would have worked, but she was asking me to do the impossible. I couldn't walk away; I couldn't let her go.

"I'm not going anywhere." An agonized sob escaped her lips and I had to clench my hands in to tight fists to stop myself from going to her. Seeing her like this was killing me and I just wanted to wrap her in my arms and keep her there, away from anything that could hurt her. "Who's Macy?"

She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, her eyes lowering to her fingers. "She was my sister."

"That night we made our deal, you told me you didn't have any siblings," I reminded her.

"I lied," she whispered.

"Why?"

"Because I killed her," she said in a whisper that I hardly managed to make out.

"What are you talking about, Casey?" I pushed a little more forcely.

She walked over to her bed and sank down on it, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, tightly. I took a chair a few feet away from her.

"Macy was my twin. My mom had identical twins. My mom didn't want one kid, and life decided to bitch slap her with two. When we were just barely a year old, I got the chicken pox; Macy did as well a week later. We couldn't stop scratching. It itched so much," she sniffled, rubbing the back of her hand over her eyes, "One night, it was too much for me and I started to cry. It was late and I just wanted it to stop. I wanted to go to sleep. I was so tired...it just wouldn't stop itching. When Macy saw me crying, she started to cry as well," She stopped speaking when it became too much for her to speak and I had to sit on my hands to stop myself from going over to her. I knew she needed her space, but it was killing me to see her like this and I just wanted to hold her in my arms.

She breathed in slowly and exhaled before resuming, "My mom had gone out that night with some friends and had had a few drinks. She was an angry drunk and she was tired of our sobbing. She came in the room and yelled for us to shut up, but we didn't...we didn't stop crying and it made her furious," her voice broke as fresh tears leaked out. There was so much pain reflected in them that I could feel it slicing into me. I could feel the anguish and all I wanted to do was kill every son of a bitch that put that anguish there.

"She put the pillow over the wrong head." My eyes widened in horror at the unspoken accusation. Surely she was wrong.

"Casey...please tell me she didn't..." I trailed off, willing her to erase the doubt.

"I was the one who started crying. I was the one who got the chicken pox. I was the one who wouldn't shut up. Not Macy. She killed the wrong twin. I'm supposed to be dead, not Macy. My sister died next to me of suffocation and it was all my fault. I laid next to her dead body for hours." When it became too much for me to sit and watch her go through that horrible time of her life alone, I jumped out of my chair and stalked towards her. Pulling her up as sobs started to shake her fragile body, I wrapped her in my arms and sank us both into her chair.

"Shh, sweetheart. It's okay. It wasn't your fault, Casey," I told her forcefully, making her look at me when I said this. I saw the disbelief in her eyes and anger boiled in me. I hated her mother. I hated her for doing this to her. What kind of mother kills her own child for being in pain?!

"Ryder, that's not all..." she trailed off and I felt dread fill me. What more pain could she have gone through? How Casey could be so strong after something like that happening in her life, I had no idea. "When I was five years old, someone started sniffing around. People found it odd that my sister had accidentally suffocated. That's when the truth started to come out. I overheard my parents arguing about it one night and I never forgot—forgetting that your mother murdered your own sister by mistake, is something you never forget."

"You moved here when you were nine...is that why? Did someone find out?" I asked her and she nodded, confirming my suspicion.

"Someone started asking too many questions, so my mom and dad decided to move us. The first year was great. My dad worked from home—since he could afford to do so—and my mom, my mom opened a dance studio. 'To tell a story...'" My eyes widened as I recognized the phrase. It was the name of the studio I'd taken Casey to when I'd tried to get her to dance again that first time we'd hung out after the deal. "My mom had been a dancer when she was a teenager and she thought it would be fun to turn me into one as well...."

"...At first, I didn't want it. I thought it was a trick; there was no way my mom would voluntarily spend time with me. But...as I kept going to classes, I began to love it. Not only was I spending time with my mom, but I also turned out to be very good at it. We still didn't get along at all, but, in the dance studio, it was different. I told myself it was different...we were sharing something. Do you remember that day you gave me a ride home—"

"—Freshman year. You caught me tagging the library walls," I finished for her and she nodded.

"My mom was two hours late. She was supposed to come pick me up. She'd called, said she was at the dance studio and would be out on her way to get me. I waited for two hours, hoping that she hadn't let me down, yet again. I hoped that she was just late, like she usually was. Do you remember where I had you take me?" I shook my head. I didn't. That's why it confused the hell out of me that I hadn't remembered that big ass house of hers. "You took me to the studio. I went to the studio to see if she was okay..." She trailed off as her face got this terrified look and I tightened my arms around her.

"What happened, sweetheart?" I whispered, encouragingly.

"She killed herself. She—she—slit...she slit her own throat..." she whispered out, choking back the tears in between her words. The breath left my body as I stood there in shock. "There were two notes next to her body. One was directed to her and the other to me..."

"What did the notes say, sweetheart?" I asked cautiously. She turned to me, her eyes filled with anguish and I felt my heart constrict in my chest.

"The first one was from someone letting my mom know that they knew her secret. They were blackmailing her for money. The second note was addressed to me. Only a few words were written, but I knew it was her handwriting. 'You ruined my life. You and your sister. I should have killed you both, but I know this will hurt just as much. This is all your fault. I'll see you in hell.' Those were my mom's last words to me." I watched her eyes turn hollow, her body stoic in my arms. I watched the woman I love become a shell of a person right in my arms and I will never experience more pain in my life. "My dad hung himself in his room two years later on the anniversary of her death."

"People around me die, Ryder, they just do. I've tried to explain it to myself but I can't. I don't want you to have the same faith they all did." I shook my head in disbelief. This girl had been through so much shit and all because her parents were cowards and she blamed herself. She felt like she was bad luck.

Pulling her off of me, I stood up and walked out the room.