River’s eyes shot open. Something had woken her. What? Was it Ryker?
She shot a quick look to her bedside clock. Three a.m. So, yes. Probably Ryker. After all, it was Friday night—or Saturday morning, depending on which way you looked at it—and this had been his normal return time for the last few weeks.
Worry tingled her spine as she pushed the sheets off. Worry about the bruises he’d have on his body. The blood staining his clothes. Blood that was his? Or someone else’s?
Swallowing her trepidation, she crept out of her bedroom. She’d barely stepped into the hall when she saw him. The second he turned toward her, the air caught in her throat, and tiny pricks of ice skittered over her skin.
“Ryker…”
His eye was black, almost sealed shut. Specks of blood dotted his neck and cheeks. There were stains all over his shirt, like he’d thrown it over the top of his bleeding chest.
When she met his gaze, it was to see his one good eye slitted. “What are you doing up, River?”
“Where have you been?” She let icy tentacles of anger replace the worry. The anger felt good. Safe. “And don’t give me some bullshit answer about it not being my business, because it is. You’re my brother, therefore my business.”
She wanted answers, and she wanted them now. Whatever decisions he was making, whatever he was choosing to participate in to make himself feel better, it clearly wasn’t safe.
“As much as I’d love to debrief you on my entire fucking life right now, I’m tired and going to bed.”
She tried not to flinch at the way he cursed at her. The brother she knew and loved would never do that.
What the hell had happened to him?
When he scrubbed a hand over his face, her gaze zeroed in on his knuckles. Red and raw. Like he’d been hitting something…or someone.
He tried to walk past her to his bedroom, but she stepped into his path, blocking his way. “Ryker—”
“I’m not in the mood, River.”
He wasn’t quite yelling, but his voice was definitely raised. And that, in combination with his size, would have scared most people. Not her. She would step in front of a speeding car to save this man. No hesitation. No questions.
“You’re never in the mood. Since returning to Lindeman, all you’ve been is angry.” He tried to step around her, but she mirrored his movement, blocking him again. “It’s Mickey, isn’t it? You’ve been visiting his club. Why? Are you working for him?”
That was the only thing she could think of. That he’d decided to work as one of his bouncers or something. What else could it be?
His jaw clenched, the muscles in his arms bunching. “I’m going to say this as clearly as I can, River. Stay…the hell…out of this.”
“Tell me what this is and maybe I will.”
His head lowered, face so close to hers, she just about smelled the flecks of blood on his skin. “My life.”
His words were like a physical blow. For a moment, she just stood there, searching for something, anything familiar. For some little part of the brother she remembered.
There was nothing.
“What happened to you?” The words were barely a whisper torn from her soul.
Something flashed through his eyes. The first emotion in months other than anger…sorrow, maybe? “I learned the hard way that life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.”
When he stepped to the side this time, she didn’t stop him, knowing she didn’t have words to save him. Not right now.
But before he disappeared inside his room, she splintered the silence. “I’m not going to stop, Ryker. I’m going to keep digging, keep pushing, until I know you’re safe.” Because, right now, she knew he wasn’t. And it wasn’t just because he’d been returning home covered in bruises and blood. It was something else. Something deeper.
For a moment, he paused, knuckles almost white as they wrapped around the wooden doorframe.
His head turned, eyes so dark and angry he could almost be a stranger. “You stay away from Mickey and that club.” Then he slammed the door shut, the loud bang exploding through the house.
For a few long minutes, her gaze stayed on his door. Something akin to desperation seeped into her bones. Desperation to figure out what was going on. Desperation to save him from whatever demons were torturing him, both inside and out. Desperation to get the brother she knew and loved back.
River’s eyes shot open. The remnants of the dream, the memory of her brother’s tortured eyes sinking into her soul, haunted her.
She sucked in a deep breath as she took in the room around her. Still dark, but not completely. Maybe early morning?
She glanced beside her at Jackson’s still body. He lay on his side, his heavy arm wrapped around her waist, breath brushing against her neck.
They hadn’t even spoken about where he would sleep tonight. When night came, she’d pulled down the sheets, and he’d just slipped in with her.
For a moment, she watched him, letting the sight of him calm some of the turmoil in her chest. He’d always been the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. Even when she was a kid, a part of her had known that she’d never meet another person who made her feel quite what he did.
Blowing out a small breath, River tried to crawl out from under him, but the second she moved, his arm tightened like a band of steel, keeping her rooted to the spot.
“Are you okay?”
Holy Christmas, the man didn’t sound tired at all. Had he even been asleep? Or was he just able to open his eyes at the drop of a hat and be wide awake?
She glanced beside her. Even in the darkness, she saw the beautiful specks of honey in his brown eyes. “I’m just getting a drink.”
She tried to tug away again, but his arm remained, gaze still on her, searching. “I can get it for you.”
She almost chuckled. “Thank you, but I can manage.”
And then, because she couldn’t stop herself, she leaned into him and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was meant to be a peck. But immediately, he rose, leaning into her, chest pressing her down to the mattress.
The kiss was hot and intense, his tongue sliding between her lips, dancing with hers. For a moment, she lost herself.
He raised his head, and when he whispered against her lips, his breath was warm on her mouth. “Don’t take long.”
A shudder coursed down her spine as she pushed up from the bed. She grabbed her phone for light and slipped from the room. Good God, but the man was going to be the end of her. She touched her mouth, swearing she could still feel his lips there.
On the way to the kitchen, her gaze paused on the front door, and suddenly her dream came back to her. The memory of Ryker stepping through the door that night was so clear, she almost expected him to come in right now.
Giving herself a little shake, she went to the fridge, tugging it open and grabbing the bottle of apple juice.
That night had been a week before she’d received the call from her dad, telling her Ryker was dead. Her brother hadn’t returned to her place after their confrontation, instead choosing to stay with their parents. She’d almost wished she hadn’t confronted him because at least when he was close, she had eyes on him. Knew he was returning home safe each night. That he was somewhat okay.
Sighing, she poured some juice into a glass before leaning her hip against the counter. “Where are you, Ryker?”
Every so often, a voice whispered in her head that maybe they were all right. Maybe he was gone. But she always shut it down because the pain was too crippling.
Taking a sip, she watched the moon cast a glow over the grass through the window. Was Ryker looking at that moon right now?
Lifting her phone, she called Angel, not caring about the time because the woman never answered anyway, so what did it matter?
“I told you to stop calling me.”
River froze, shocked that Angel had actually answered on the first ring. Loud music boomed in the background. Was she still at the club? Was it even open at this time? “Please, one conversation, that’s all I ask.”
“How many times do I have to say no?”
“As many times as you need to before you say yes, because I’m not going to stop. I can’t. He’s my brother, Angel, and I need answers. Please.”
There was a beat of silence. Was the woman considering it?
“Fine. Come tomorrow. I’ll text you my address and a time.”
River’s mouth slid open in shock.
“After tomorrow, you need to leave me alone. Got it?”
She nodded even though the woman couldn’t see her. “I will. I promise.”
When she hung up, the text came through with the address almost immediately. River’s eyes shuttered. This could be it. The moment she got her answers.
She was just setting the glass in the sink when something caused her to pause. A noise. Like the unlatching of a lock, coming from…Ryker’s room?
Frowning, she took a step toward the living room when a hand suddenly clamped over her mouth, another around her waist, and she was tugged into the walk-in pantry.
River’s heart catapulted into her throat. She threw an elbow into the guy’s stomach, but he didn’t react at all. It was like elbowing a brick wall.
Then there was a voice in her ear. “It’s me.”
Every muscle in her body relaxed, and she sank into Jackson, the moment of panic morphing into a form of light-headed relief.
“Someone’s in your house,” he said quietly. The fine hairs on her arms stood on end. His lip brushed against her ear as he continued, “I need you to stay here while I check it out.”
She wriggled from his grasp, glad when he let go. Then she turned. “No. It’s too dangerous. Call the police. Or your team.”
Anything that meant he wouldn’t be stepping out there on his own.
“There’s not enough time. Don’t leave the pantry.”
Her heart rate tripled as he slipped out.
Air barely made its way in and out of her chest as seconds ticked by, dread knotting her stomach.
What if there was more than one person? What if they were too much for Jackson alone?
At the sound of a crash and a loud thud, River jolted. Her hand flew to the pantry door but she quickly tugged it away. Jackson had told her to stay.
But could she do that, knowing full well he could be in trouble?
Suddenly, she remembered the gun Ryker had strapped to the top shelf of the pantry. God, how had she forgotten? She could have given it to Jackson!
Stretching up, her fingers only just reached the weapon. She tugged it down and took a deep breath before cautiously moving out of the pantry.
Grunts sounded from the hallway.
She raised the gun and moved slowly toward the hall. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the two big men fighting on the floor. Jackson threw a punch, whipping the guy’s head back.
She wasn’t sure if she made a noise or if he saw her from his peripheral vision, but suddenly Jackson’s head flew around to stare at her. That was all it took—the guy shoved him on his ass and ran toward Ryker’s room.
Jackson flew after him, and River after Jackson, but the guy was already out the open window.
For a moment, Jackson stood there, looking out the window like he wanted to give chase but didn’t want to leave her unprotected. His shoulders were moving up and down with his heavy breaths.
When he turned, she almost stepped back at the sparks of fire flying from his eyes. “I told you to stay in the goddamn pantry, River.”
“I thought you could be outnumbered. And I didn’t know whether you had a gun and remembered that Ryker had hidden one in the pantry.”
Jackson moved across the room. “What if there had been more than one guy here? Hell, there could have been an army of men in your house!”
Her jaw clicked. “Even more reason for me to come out here and help you.”
Jackson’s hands went to her cheeks. For a moment, his eyes shuttered, and he was silent. Like he was trying to calm himself. When his eyes opened, they were tortured. “This isn’t a game, Rae. When I ask you to do something, you need to listen.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath. He was right. She knew he was. “I’m sorry. I just can’t handle the idea of you getting hurt.”
He blew out a long breath, lowering his head and pressing his temple to hers. “Don’t ever do that again.”
