CHAPTER 7
Ryder doesn’t f**k me again that night. He unties me and cleans up the glass—“the least I can do after that pleasant surprise.” Then he returns to the bed and strokes my bare rib cage and asks me questions, not one of them about Jeff. All about me as if he’s been starved for conversation the way I’ve been starved for freedom.
“A vet, huh?”
“It always seemed like the perfect thing for me,” I say. Though I spent most every other second between the ages of four and twenty-four assisting my father with his illegal activities. My father always said I could be whatever I set my mind to, but it turns out that he never meant for me to be anything but a thief. Veterinary school, paid for with ill-gotten gains, was my single greatest act of rebellion. Until I actually walked away from h
