♡Chapter dedicated to MalagasyHorrorWriter♡

"I've been a fool and I've been blind. I can never leave the past behind." Florence and the Machines.

Fuck this.

If that evil bitch thought that he would just sit here and take this, then she was even crazier than he had originally thought.

Ignoring the sharp stabbing pain that shot through his wrists, he pulled at the leather straps that held his arms in place. The surrounding skin quickly turned a deep red, rubbed raw by the thick material.

Ryder knew all about grief. In fact, he considered himself an expert.

He had felt it when his father died. He could still remember in excruciating detail the months that followed as his mother wandered around, zombie-like and Kayla cried endlessly, the lament of a broken heart.

The biggest lesson he had learned through those difficult times, was that grief never truly went away. It was like a broken mirror. Yes, you can fix it and glue it back together, but you will always know that it was once shattered. Your eyes unconsciously looking for the hairline cracks that you know are there.

And that was how it was for him. Even on that night a year ago, his first thought had been what his father would have said had he been alive to witness Ryder commit the ultimate sin.

It was no surprise when Savannah began to avoid him. Before, she had always been excited to see him, a cute giggle never far from her lips, her hands always unconsciously touching her hair. But that all ended after that night, when the one thing that truly linked them together was the worst that either of them had ever done. He found himself grieving what they used to have, looking at it as a loss.

But what he was feeling now was an entirely new kind of grief, an ache that began to blossom in his chest, an all-consuming pain as he watched the girl he cared for live out her worst nightmare, knowing there was nothing he could do about it. The straps began to bite into his skin, and a swell of crimson blood appeared, dripping down to the floor.

"Ryder, stop it. You're bleeding."

The words meant nothing to him. Even though they were spoken by the one person who could usually make him see reason. He looked up at his sister, catching her eyes, seeing the terror there, and knew that he couldn't handle watching her go through the same thing that her best friend was.

"Guilt."

Savannah's voice cut through him like a searing hot blade. It wasn't so much the tone, although the pure agony in it was bad enough, it was the word she had said. It stopped him in his tracks, causing him to look up at her once again.

He knew then what she was seeing. He knew what her worst fear was. He also knew, that it was all his fault.

For a moment, he forgot about the fear he was supposed to be feeling, he forgot that he was trapped in a room with an evil serum currently coursing through his veins, Everything narrowed down to the girl across from him, strapped to her chair and thrashing around in terror. He felt as though he was suffocating from the screams that fell from her lips, drowning in the pain that she was feeling.

The memory of that night, buried in a shallow grave, began to run through his mind, fighting its way to the surface.

"Ryder," Savannah giggled, sliding her hand further up his thigh, her fingers trailing over the denim encasing his legs. "Pull over, now."

These moments with her were made even more exciting because they kept them secret from the rest of their friends. The fact that she never wanted anything more from him than a quickie in the back seat of his car or in her pristine white sheets, made them a match made in heaven; both too damaged by their pasts to look for commitment.

He glanced her way, gripping the gear stick tighter as her hand continued its tortuous movements, slowly unbuttoning the top of his jeans and sliding down the zipper. Her soft fingers grazed the top of his boxer shorts. He couldn't help the smirk that crossed his lips, or the anticipation that filled his body. Fuck, she was sexy when she was impatient. But they were almost at her house, and he would rather wait for the comfort of her bed.

"Sav-," but his words were cut off by a blood curdling scream from the girl in the passenger seat.

He blinked away the memory before it could continue. He knew what happened next, the thought alone had haunted him for the past year. He didn't want to relive it again as he did every night. He couldn't battle his demons now when he was fighting to keep himself afloat.

The others began to reassure Savannah, tell her that she was imagining it, that she was okay. But Ryder couldn't bring himself to do the same. Everything was entirely his fault and he had hated himself for it every single day since then.

Savannah continued to scream, the sound reverberating through the room, bouncing off the walls and stabbing Ryder in the heart as if each one of her screeches was a needle piercing his body. It reminded him of the way she had screamed that night. It had been the first time she had screamed his name in fear instead of pleasure.

As if he needed more fucking fuel to fire his self-hatred, as if the guilt from that night hadn't plagued him enough.

As if he wasn't already broken beyond repair.

His efforts to free himself increased as he pulled and yanked on the straps. His arm became slick with the crimson blood, slipping through the tiniest bit, but not enough to come loose.

Fuck!

He had to get out. He just fucking had to. Because if he didn't, then who would? Not Noah, who may have the brains but had never known a day of pain in his perfect life. Definitely not Aaron, whose quick wit and soft nature prevented him from using force, preferring to talk things out rather than cause a fight.

It was Ryder who always stood tall against anyone who would dare to hurt his friends. Ryder who had received his fair share of black eyes and broken ribs. Ryder, who had suffered more pain than anyone should ever have to. He was the one that would have to get them out of this.

"Ryder, please stop!"

Kayla's pleas were in vain. He wouldn't stop until he got out of these fucking straps that were preventing him from saving them all. He couldn't let them down again. Not when he already had so many times.

He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he swore he felt the smallest bit of give, the strap loosening slightly. What he didn't expect was the crack of wood, the arm of the chair snapping under his weight.

For the first time since they had been in this room, Ryder managed a triumphant smile as he quickly undid the strap on his other arm, ignoring the pain in his wrist from the restraints and the splinters that had embedded in his skin. He had managed to get free. He only hoped that the bitch was watching them now, seeing that she couldn't break them as easily as she had thought.

He wiped as much of the blood off his arms as he could, staining his grey shirt. The cuts themselves weren't too deep, and certainly worth the fact that he could now help the others out. He went to Kayla first, his legs wobbling slightly as he stood up, his movements watched by the other three who were still awake in the room.

Kayla's eyes were filled with awe, her mouth opening and closing although no words came out. But no words were needed at this moment. The victory, though small, gave them the slightest bit of hope. He fumbled with her straps in his desperation to get them off. When she was free, she rubbed her wrists slowly, still looking shocked that she was able to do so, and pulled him down into a hug, weeping onto his shoulder.

Fuck you, psycho bitch. I won't let you win.

As he was thinking this, Kayla pushed past him, not wasting any time, heading straight to Noah and beginning to undo the straps that tied him to his chair.

Ryder approached Savannah, ignoring the look on Aaron's face as he did so. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and softly wiped the sweat off the caramel skin on her forehead. He longed to take her unconscious figure in his arms and apologise for the hell she had been through. The pain that he had caused.

"Ryder."

His smile fell at the sound of the voice, one he had never heard before. He glanced up, ice crawling it's way up his spine as he looked into the eyes of the young girl sitting directly across from him.

The one that hadn't been there a minute ago.

Fuck.