Chapter Sixteen - Ryder
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ryder
What the hell did I just hear?
Maybe I can rationalize it as a drop-off Briggs never told me about, but if that were the case, he wouldn’t be talking about me.
I slowly ease off of Rachel and take a few steps back. My mind is racing with possibilities, but they all center around one…
“What was that about?” Rachel whispers.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll handle it.”
“Handle what, exactly? It sounds like Briggs is out to get you.”
“And if he is, it’s none of your business. I will handle it.”
When I turn, I’m not prepared for the level of ferocity Rachel’s glare directs at me. “None of my business? Ryder, I heard him myself. He was talking about you!”
I place a hand on each of her shoulders and level her with a glare of my own. “I. Will. Handle. It.”
She shoves me away with one hand while the other fidgets with the bulky charm on her necklace.
“You have no idea how infuriating it is to always be in the dark with you. I’m just trying to move on from everything I’ve already gone through because of you, but you barge into my life and make moving on impossible!
Then I see Briggs glaring at me before slipping away, and I follow him because I can’t help but wonder if he’s the leak finishing what Mason started.
These aren’t things I want to think about, Ryder!
I want a normal life with normal issues.
I didn’t ask for any of this. The least you can do is give me some peace of mind and not keep me in the dark all the time. ”
She’s heaving by the time she finishes her monologue, and though she said a lot that likely needs to be unpacked, I ignore all but one word.
“How do you know about that?” I ask, my voice controlled but loaded with authority.
She freezes, the realization of what she’s revealed hitting her full force. She tries to meet my gaze, but my eyes are firmly locked on her hand, which still clings to the heart-shaped charm.
“Know what?” she asks, but I don’t believe her for a second.
“You said, leak. How do you know we’re looking for a leak associated with Mason Consoli?”
“I didn’t—I don’t—” She drops her hands to her side and straightens her back with a pathetic show of bravery.
Without her hand in the way, I have a clear view of the charm—or rather, the barely noticeable line that runs diagonally across it.
“Is that your final answer?”
She says nothing in her defense, and her features lose all bravado.
My hand snakes forward before she has the chance to piece together my objective, and I rip the chain from her neck with a firm snap. With the flick of my thumb, the charm splits in two, revealing the thumb drive hidden inside.
“I can explain,” Rachel whispers, but it’s barely audible.
I shove the charm into my pocket. “You sure as hell will, but first…”
The speed with which I grip Rachel’s hips and haul her into me gives her no time to react—let alone resist—as I crush my lips to hers.
And when I say crush, I mean it. This isn’t one of the sweet, tender kisses we’ve shared in the past. This is rough, animalistic, with the passion of the anger she’s inspired by keeping who-knows-what from me.
With one hand on her hip, I keep her firmly pressed to me and use my other hand to tug her neat ponytail so she’s forced to angle her head up, giving me more leverage over her.
As I take out my frustration on those beautiful lips, Rachel’s reaction isn’t lost on me. Not one bit.
Her hands—which were pressed against my chest to hold me back—now clutch my jacket like her life depends on it. She kisses me like she has just as much anger harbored as I do, and I wonder if that is the case.
Just as suddenly as I take her lips, I pull away.
She opens her mouth, no doubt to question me, but I’ve already grabbed her hand and begun pulling her from the room. She barely has time to grab her shoes and bag from the floor before we’re in the hall.
“What was that?” she bites out, pulling me to a stop as she slides her heels back on.
“Our alibi,” I answer in a voice lacking emotion, and for the first time in years, I have to work to achieve that tone because I am most certainly not lacking emotion.
Not at all.
The combination of my rage toward her and my need for her is a violent torrent that demands a release that I cannot give. So, instead, I keep a cool mask over my features and remind myself that punching a hole through the wall of the city’s art museum will only make things worse.
As we enter the main room, I tug her to my side with a possessive arm around her waist and lean down so my lips brush her ear. “Let me do the talking.”
“What are you going to say?”
“It’ll be more alluding than saying.”
She ponders that for only a moment before tensing. “You’re going to make them think we—but we didn’t!”
“Trust me, I know,” I grate.
“Why do we need an alibi?”
“Because we can’t let Briggs know we heard anything. Just stay quiet and look dazed.” I look down, noting her smudged lipstick, disheveled ponytail, and wide, glossed-over eyes. “Yeah, just like that.”
Her eyes narrow but keep their addled fog.
Rachel clings to my arm, and I’m not sure if it’s part of the act or if the last hour’s events have taken a toll on her. Either way, I tuck her protectively into my side as we approach the capos and their dates.
“Rachel! There you are,” Ava calls enthusiastically. “Where have you been?”
The others take in her messy hair and my wrinkled blazer with skeptical eyes. If our appearance isn’t enough to convince them, Rachel’s clouded eyes and hand gripping my arm for dear life certainly do the trick.
“We were having a look around. You know, the bathrooms are incredibly spacious,” I say in an even tone and drop my hand dangerously low on Rachel’s hip. “Unfortunately, we must be getting home to our daughter. It was nice seeing you all.”
The knowing eyes that scan our appearance as they bid us farewell only add to Rachel’s embarrassment and, thankfully, the validity of our excuse.
We sit in thick, restless silence the entire drive home.
I want to push Rachel to talk as soon as we get in the car, but I don’t trust my ability to control my temper—an issue I rarely face—so I don’t.
We pick up Lyla from Rachel’s parents, and she falls asleep in the back seat, giving Rachel an excuse to keep quiet.
I still can’t believe I didn’t notice that the bulky charm that’s been a permanent fixture around Rachel’s neck for the last two weeks was a thumb drive. I had assumed it was a tacky gift from her mother.
I can guess what I’ll find on the drive. After all, the information she knows isn’t public—even to soldiers within the family. The leak is a secret that only the capos of the Moreno and Consoli family are privy to.
What else does she know? And how does she know it?
I swear, if Elli has been telling her things, I’ll rat her out to Moreno, who will remove her from her capo position as fast as he put her in it.
We pull into the driveway, and Rachel is out of the car before it’s parked. She pulls Lyla from her seat and carries her inside without sparing me a glance.
I turn off the car and walk around the house, straight to my pool house. After a speedy shower, I throw on a pair of sweats and a shirt before making my way into the house—thumb drive clasped in a tight fist.
I settle in the desk chair of the office and wait.
Only a few minutes later, Rachel walks in, hair falling loose over her shoulders. She’s traded her gown for a sweatshirt and a pair of black shorts, all traces of makeup wiped away from her naturally flawless face.
I don’t say anything as Rachel closes the door and settles on the chaise against the wall. We sit in thick silence for several seconds before she gives in to it.
“It started the day we got home from LA,” she starts, elbows resting on her knees and eyes downcast. “I took the week off work but had to answer a few urgent emails, so I set up the desktop at the hotel. When I logged on, it was open to a program I didn’t recognize.
I wasn’t trying to snoop—I really wasn’t. ”
When her eyes meet mine, shining with honesty, I realize my mistake.
I bury my face in my hands. “I didn’t log out of the database.”
I came to visit Lyla a few weeks ago when Moreno was working from his house in Redding. The trip had been brief, but he sent over files I had to look through during my stay here, and I didn’t log out when I was done.
Rachel nods.
“I rarely use that computer, but since I was working from home, I had to. I was going to exit out of it, but then you got a message with all the notes from the capo meeting you had about the factory night.” She shakes her head like she’s trying to rid herself of memories.
“My anxiety was so bad that I wasn’t eating or sleeping.
When I saw that message come in, I didn’t think twice before opening it, and Ryder”—she levels me with an earnest gaze—“I don’t regret it.
There was so much information there that you never told me, like how the Consoli family is working to uncover how Mason communicated with his followers and that the Moreno family is working to find the leak in resources that Mason was taking advantage of.
“I had more peace after reading that message than I’d had in days…
but then it became, well, an addiction.” She gestures to the thumb drive.
“I started compiling everything I found onto the thumb drive, so any time I got anxious, I’d just go through it and add anything from the database that could’ve related. ”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?” I shake the charm for emphasis. “This information could put a huge target on your back. If Moreno found out about this, he could have you killed, Rachel.”
She opens her mouth, but I cut her off.
“And this doesn’t just affect you. What about Lyla? Or me? I’m already walking on thin ice. I’d lose my place in the family and maybe my life if this got out.”