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RYDER

a Slater Brothers novel

Copyright © 2016 by L.A. Casey

Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations

Literary Editor: JaVa Editing

Formatter: JT Formatting

All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under S.I. No. 337/2011 – European Communities (Electronic Communications Networks and Services) (Universal Service and Users’ Rights) Regulations 2011, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

License Notes

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Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other Titles by L.A. Casey

My readers – this is for you.

Don’t cry.

I repeated the thought over and over as I sat in my best friend’s apartment. Aideen Collins was wrapped up in the arms of her fiancé—Kane Slater—and they both focused their attention on their beautiful baby boy, Jax.

Those I loved surrounded me, and what should have been a happy time, wasn’t. Not for me anyway. I watched my little sister, Bronagh, interact with her fiancé, Dominic Slater, who, like Kane, was my fiancé’s brother, and I fought back tears as his hand absentmindedly stroked her abdomen where their baby girl was growing.

I gnawed on my inner cheek as I looked away from the happy couple and focused on the plasma screen TV on the wall facing me. My eyes watched the programme that was showing, but my brain had no clue what was happening because it was elsewhere. I straightened up and hoped I didn’t appear to be so out of sorts, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if I did, because I felt dreadful.

I was jealous.

I was green with envy every time I looked at Kane and Aideen with their sweet Jax, but my heart broke when I watched how Dominic interacted with Bronagh. She was my little sister. I was a whole decade older than her and she had surpassed me on the journey to motherhood. I had no doubt she would marry before me, too.

I hated that I felt so bitter towards my own blood. I was beyond happy for them, but I hated them a little at the same time. She and Dominic were solid. They suited each other so well, and their love, though sometimes extremely intense, was true and forever binding. The more I let myself think about them, the more depressed I felt when I looked at my own relationship.

I didn’t think it could even be classed as a relationship anymore. Ryder and I, we both changed. Somewhere along the line, we stopped being nice to one another. To a point, we stopped being loving towards one another. It started out as normal bickering that grew into full blown screaming contests. We weren’t even at that angry stage anymore; we were at the silent one.

We ignored one another, and when we did interact, it wasn’t pleasant.

I didn’t know where we went wrong, but Ryder and I, we fell out of love. It pained me to admit that, but it was the truth. I loved him dearly, but I wasn’t in love with him anymore. Not with the version of Ryder I was living with. I was deeply in love with the man he used to be, the man who would give me the world if I asked. It broke my heart because I had no idea how we had gotten to the point we were at. I had no idea what I did wrong.

It was sorrowful.

I glanced to my left to where he was sitting on Aideen’s sofa. He was, as usual, tapping away on the screen of his phone and paying me no mind. I almost snickered when I remembered, many months ago, that I used to feel hurt when he gave his phone more attention than me, but now I relished that the stupid device held his gaze, because I never wanted him to look at me and really see me like he used to, because he would see how weak I had become.

I didn’t want him to see that I was broken.

I looked away from him and picked up the bottle of water I got from Aideen’s fridge when I came over. I uncapped the bottle, took a swig and swallowed down the cool liquid. I widened my eyes when some of the water went down the wrong way and entered my lungs. I lowered my bottle and instantly began coughing as I lifted my hand and pressed it against my chest.

I jumped with fright when I felt a hand press against my back, and lightly tap away, helping me get the water up and regain my composure. I looked back to my left as Ryder retracted his hand away from me, without ever looking away from the screen of his phone.

I stared at him blankly, blinking.

I wasn’t sure what to make of his kind gesture, which was terribly sad. He was my fiancé and I was surprised that he touched me. He never touched me anymore. Not if he could help it, anyway.

“Thank you,” I said to him, my voice low.

He didn’t look at me as he said, “Don’t mention it.”

Silence settled over us again and instantly my sadness returned.

I hated feeling so down.

I looked away from Ryder and glanced around the room, my eyes landing on Aideen as Bronagh and Keela moved away from her, smirks in place on both of their pretty faces.

What were they up to now? I wondered.

I smiled to myself and shook my head at the troublesome trio. I glanced down to my leg when it vibrated. I reached into my pocket and took out my phone, smiling when my co-worker’s name flashed across the screen.

Ash Wade.

He joined our crew at the hospital about six months ago. He was a twenty-eight year old English man who moved over from London when he was twenty years old and loved it so much that he never went back home.

Ash was a hoot. He made me laugh on days that I thought I could do nothing but cry. He talked to me, and he listened to me talk. A lot. He became quite a good friend of mine, and I was very thankful to have met him at a point in my life when I needed a pick-me-up.