Chapter Eleven Seraphina
Chapter Eleven
Seraphina
Ryder’s big hands slipped around my waist, and he lifted me from the ground with little effort, which was saying a lot since he’d just been in a fighting ring and had to be both sore and tired.
I told myself the reason I wasn’t yelling or resisting as he literally threw me over his shoulder, my ass now probably level with his head, was because I’d draw attention to us. Not to mention he had been heroic in trying to get to me, taking my safety quite personally.
“Excuse me,” I said in a low voice, “but your arm is right under my ass, mister.”
“It won’t be for long, miss. ” He maneuvered me inside the SUV, ensuring I didn’t bop my head on anything, and set me on one of the captain chairs in the back. “There.” He went so far as to reach around for the belt, his face coming close to mine as he buckled me in.
“Nice way to restrain me,” I tossed out flippantly, despite the fact I was secretly happy to have him here. Well, minus the not-leaving-Mexico-without-me part. I’d have to work on that.
“Would you like me to get my cuffs?” He rested his hand on the side of the Tahoe, his arm extended, which made it impossible not to see his biceps tightening in the light of the parking lot just behind him.
“Don’t make me call your bluff.” I mean, at this point I should’ve stuck out my tongue at him since I was acting all of five. Being tossed over his shoulder like a kid in trouble must’ve been why I was reacting like this.
I’d survived under Ezra’s thumb without snapping, but facing off with a man I barely knew had me coming close to—
“Ohhh,” Ryder said, cutting off my thoughts while leaning in, “please test me. Call my bluff.” His deep, husky tone sent tingling sensations throughout my body, and I opted to blame the shots of tequila this time, knowing damn well he’d inspired the same response back in Miami when I was sober.
“Now, are you going to be good and behave, or what?”
I faced forward, noticing the quiet guy behind the wheel next to Alex.
Right, we had an audience. Not to mention there were still a few guys hovering in the parking lot. We didn’t need one of those guys trying to fight Ryder to “save me.”
“If you’re going to be a pain in my ass—”
“That’s exactly what I just said about you not even, what”—he looked toward the front—“ten or fifteen minutes ago?”
“It’s you who came here uninvited and is manhandling me,” I said as Alex twisted around to look at us both, smirking.
“I didn’t manhandle you,” Ryder grunted. “But please, go on and tell me what you planned to say before I cut you off.” He pushed away from the Tahoe, and with the way he was staring at me, like a bull ready to charge, it took me a minute to remember how to speak in any language.
“My hotel. I have stuff in my room I need.”
“That’s where we were planning to go, but you’ll be accompanied every step of the way. No disappearing on me again. After you get your things, you’ll be staying with us.” He left off the whether you like it or not , but it was implied.
“And then what?” I really wished I hadn’t had so much tequila in such a short time period, which was impacting my overall executive decision-making skills.
It was a coin flip whether I’d mouth off to him as a result or bend to his will.
The first was needed, the second was more likely.
Chances were, I’d settle somewhere in between and piss him off just enough to keep him at arm’s length, a safer place to be.
“We’ll discuss next steps tomorrow after you sleep.” He slammed the door shut before I could answer, then circled the vehicle and hopped in on the other side. “Roll out,” he said, spinning his finger in the air.
I stifled the urge to tell him to buckle up. I wasn’t ready for him to know I cared about him, even if I did. It didn’t have to make sense. It was just a fact. Just like it was a fact that everyone, at some point, always died.
“And who says I’m tired?” I blurted out a few delayed seconds later.
“Maybe I’m tired. I did get punched in the face for you.”
I fake-laughed. “Who asked you to do that?”
“You went inside a cartel-controlled club with all men in there, and you expected me to stand in line and survive off hope alone that you’d be okay by yourself?” He dropped a few heated curses while running both hands through his hair.
I glanced out the window instead of at him, unsure if I should continue engaging with a man who had, in fact, taken down the champ on my behalf, even if he didn’t need to.
What didn’t make sense to me were all the why s .
Why he tracked me down. Why he cared. Why a stranger made me feel safe even after he’d lifted me from the ground and strapped me inside this vehicle.
“I was safe. Fine. Perfect.” Maybe. Sort of. “You getting punched in the face and ribs was not needed.”
“‘Safe’?” He hit me back with a laugh of his own. Fake or not, his came across far too sexy. “You and I have very different definitions of safety.”
I looked back over at him, knowing what he could do with those eyes of his even in the dim lighting.
Like turn them into weapons, wield them with unrelenting force.
Tip the scales in his favor so I’d do whatever he told me to do.
I’m already halfway there by being in this Tahoe.
“You know, you were such a gentleman in Miami. Look at you now. All alpha and broody.”
He leaned across the space between our chairs, and instead of growling or barking at me like I’d expected him to do, he adjusted my seat belt, ensuring it was in the right place.
“Cartel-owned club.” He enunciated his words that time with extra emphasis, clearly enjoying pissing me off.
“What the fuck ...” Lovely dramatic pause there. “... were you thinking?”
“I thought we were talking about this after you get your beauty rest?” I snapped back, hating that he was right. I was tired. Grumpy. Grouchy. All the things. Mostly angry, because while I had no clue why he was truly here, it was fairly obvious he’d never approve of why I was here.
When he didn’t respond, I glanced at him, finding his elbow resting against the door with his fist tight to his chin, eyes on the window. At the sight of his chest lifting and falling with deep, steady breaths, my shoulders waned as guilt tripped me up.
“ángel is no longer cartel, and I wasn’t there as myself but as ... well, Anna.” I finally let those important details sail free, reminding myself he was clearly acting like this because he believed ángel was a threat and he’d been worried about me enough to enter that cage.
“Anna, Seraphina, or Jane Doe—it wouldn’t matter, because he’s a Morales. He was born into the cartel.” He wasted no time in proving I was right about his current state of mind. Unhinged with worry and anger.
“ It’s not the challenges that define us, but how we respond to them. ” I may have been paraphrasing—or outright butchering—the quote I’d heard at some point in my life, but it was still true.
He lifted his brows, giving me an Oh yeah? with that look. He reset his attention on the window and asked in a low voice, “And Ezra, can he change?”
Nope. He’s evil. I was sure of that. Not all people were capable of redemption.
Those born without souls, for one, and yes, after working with Ezra, I knew that he fell into that soulless camp.
I voiced those exact thoughts, then added, “ángel’s going to help me.
Calling me tomorrow around noon.” I think.
I hope. “So I’m all set. You being overbearing is not needed.
” Partially appreciated, but I wouldn’t dare admit that.
Too much tequila-infused pride. “I don’t know why you found me, and—”
“I have orders.” His back hit the seat, hands going to his jeaned legs as if unhappy with himself for admitting that.
I had to replay what he said to ensure I’d heard him right. Realizing I had, my heart left my body and became roadkill. “Excuse me?” I reached over and parked a hand on his arm, urging him to face me. “Who? DEA?”
“It’s classified ... but no, not the DEA.”
Who else would be hunting me aside from them or Ezra?
“Your case fell into my lap. Quite literally, in fact.” Letting go of a deep exhalation, he added, “I took it so it’d be me coming for you and not someone else.”
“And you plan to turn me over to them? Which agency? Also, did you already forget you told me over text Saturday that you wouldn’t turn me in?”
“When did you two text?” the quiet guy from behind the wheel said, breaking his silence while exchanging a quick look with Alex.
“Just drive,” Ryder said in a clipped tone, but at least his anger wasn’t pointed at me that time.
So, you didn’t tell them we talked over text, huh?
“And as for you, I’ll do whatever I think is right,” Ryder added, conveniently ignoring my questions.
I settled back in my seat, feeling like I’d been swallowed whole. I couldn’t let him screw up my plans. I’d come too far. There was no way I’d tuck tail and go into hiding now. “And how do you know what’s right?”
“Easy.” He glanced at me from over his shoulder. “Whatever keeps you safe.”