Chapter 17
FAITH
The moment I stepped out of Ryker’s car, I stopped breathing, but not from the cold air biting my skin.
My small front porch was crowded with familiar faces—Scarlett’s blonde hair glowing amber under the porch’s light, Jace’s imposing figure leaning against my railing like he’d been carved there, Dakota’s nervous smile, Axel’s trademark smirk, and Tessa waving with mittened hands.
Frosted breath hung in the air between us, little clouds that disappeared as quickly as they formed.
They were all here.
For me.
My throat closed so fast, I couldn’t swallow. The wind cut through my jacket, but I barely felt it. All I could feel was the weight of them standing there in the cold, waiting. For me. The person who’d spent years making sure no one got close enough to do exactly this.
“We need to get rid of everyone,” Ryker muttered behind me, his voice low and urgent.
“What?” I spun around. “No!”
“Faith.” He dropped his voice even lower.
“I’m expecting the full autopsy report any day now.
And my PI is tracking down surveillance footage near the woods.
While we’re waiting for that, I need to know your full history with Daniel.
Every interaction, every threat, every detail you can remember.
Plus anything else in your past because the prosecutor will use anything against you. I can’t be blindsided.”
“Ryker.” I stepped closer. “For almost my entire life, all I’ve wanted is to matter. To have people who truly care about me. And now I do.” My hand found his arm, and I felt him stiffen beneath my touch. “Please. I know we need to get to work, but please let me have some time with them first.”
He scrubbed the side of his face with a tell I was beginning to recognize. The gesture he made when he wanted to say no, but couldn’t quite get there.
Realistically, I knew he wasn’t in charge of me. But Ryker was risking everything to help me, and steamrolling his judgment when so much was at stake felt wrong. Instead of arguing, I simply placed my hand over his and squeezed. He went utterly still, those piercing blue eyes snapping to mine.
“Please,” I repeated softly.
Something shifted in his expression. A crack in that controlled facade. His thumb brushed against my knuckles, just once, so briefly that I might have imagined it. “Okay.”
Pure elation shot through me. Without thinking, I rose up on my toes and kissed his cheek.
Everything stopped.
He went still. I went still. I swear, even the damn oxygen particles in the evening air went still. For one breathless moment, with my face still inches from his, we became lost in each other’s eyes, as if that kiss to the cheek was the first contact we’d ever shared.
But it wasn’t. Yet every one of our moments, our touches, carried that first-feeling intensity. Case in point: he looked like he wanted to reach up and cup my cheek, and when his gaze drifted down to my lips, hunger flickered there.
Spoiler alert: I wanted him to kiss me.
I could see the decision forming in those storm-gray depths. Could tell the exact moment he tilted his head and began to lean closer. My lips parted instinctively, my breath catching as I waited for—
“Jesus Christ, get a room!” Axel’s voice cut through the moment like a chain saw through silk. But when I looked at him, he smirked and offered me a wink that instantly put me at ease. “Or at least charge admission. Some of us could use the entertainment.”
Ryker stepped back. “You know what your problem is, Axel? You talk.”
“That’s not a problem; that’s a gift. Ask Dakota.”
“I plead the Fifth,” Dakota said, approaching us with careful steps.
She was the first to reach me, the first to wrap her arms around me in a fierce hug.
I wasn’t what you’d call a hugger—touching had never been my love language—but I guess trauma had a way of changing your relationship with comfort.
She pulled back, hands steady on my shoulders while everyone else watched. “We’ve got you,” she said, voice fierce with loyalty. “No matter what happens, we’ve got you.”
That lump in my throat grew. I had no idea what I’d done to deserve this kind of devotion.
“If you want us to leave,” Axel said, slapping on his usual smirk, “we can always wait in the car while you and Ryker finish your little Hallmark moment.”
“It’s called having feelings, Axel,” Ryker shot back. “You should try it sometime.”
“I have feelings. Hungry. Horny. Tired. See? Three feelings right there.”
Jace actually laughed at that, a rare sound from the normally stoic billionaire. “Those aren’t feelings; those are biological functions.”
“You sound like Blake. He probably categorizes emotions by their neurotransmitter pathways,” Axel retorted.
“He absolutely does,” Tessa confirmed, grinning. “He made me a pie chart once.”
“Where is he?” I asked.
“Coming over when his ER shift is done,” Tessa assured me.
Ryker’s hand found the small of my back as we moved toward the door, and then he leaned close, his breath warm against my ear. “Does Blake know about the group home? I don’t want to accidentally mention something private.”
God, this man. In the middle of all this chaos, he was still making sure to protect what mattered to me.
“He knows,” I said. Blake had offered to help, naturally, but this was mine to build, mine to protect.
As we navigated toward the front door, Jace was still cataloging every detail of my street: the run-down houses, broken chain-link fences, scattered litter.
“It’s an up-and-coming neighborhood,” I clarified, heat creeping up my neck.
But when I looked at Jace, I didn’t see judgment. If anything, his expression held curiosity and maybe a hint of protectiveness that made me like him even more.
“Come on.” Dakota linked her arm through mine. “Let’s go inside. We can order pizza and drink some wine. You need to eat something.”
“We ate already,” I said. “But the wine sounds lovely.”
“Oh, really?” Axel’s eyebrows waggled. “You two had dinner? Like a date dinner? With candles and everything?”
“We had food. At a table. With utensils,” Ryker deadpanned. “Try not to strain yourself imagining it.”
“Tell me there were cloth napkins. That’s how you know it’s serious.”
“Axel,” Ryker said slowly, “I’m going to count to three.”
“Ooh, scary. What happens at three?”
“Guys,” Dakota interrupted, smiling, “can we save the banter for after we get inside? It’s cold out here.”
Twenty minutes later, we’d assembled in my tiny backyard around the worn bonfire pit the previous tenant had left behind. Was it probably a fire hazard? Yep. But did it still burn the twigs we’d gathered from around the yard and the leftover firewood we’d found? Also yep.
The air carried a sharp bite, and smoke from our makeshift fire curled up toward a sky pricked with early stars. In the distance, the amber glow of the state penitentiary’s security lights painted the horizon with a constant, ominous reminder that sat like a stone in my stomach.
“Here.” Dakota offered me a thick blanket. “You look like you’re shivering.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, pulling the softness around my shoulders.
When Dakota sat back down, Axel immediately moved behind her chair, strong hands working at the tension in her shoulders. The casual intimacy made something twist inside me. Not jealousy exactly, but longing. Would I ever have that? That easy comfort with someone?
“So,” Scarlett said, settling into her chair with the grace of someone who’d never met an awkward moment, “are we going to talk about the sexual tension that could be cut with a butter knife, or are we all pretending we didn’t just witness that almost kiss?”
“There was no almost kiss,” Ryker said firmly.
“Right. And I wake up like this,” Dakota shot back.
“Can we please talk about literally anything else?” I begged.
“Sure,” Axel said cheerfully. “Let’s talk about how Ryker checked his watch seventeen times in the last five minutes. That’s a new record, even for Mr. Type A.”
“I have not.” Ryker’s face tightened.
“Twelve,” Jace corrected mildly. “But who’s counting?”
“Apparently everyone,” Ryker muttered, and even I had to smile at that.
Their laughter mixed with the snap and hiss of the fire. Normal. Easy. The kind of night that should’ve felt like a gift.
My gaze drifted past the flames to the penitentiary’s distant glow on the horizon. Dakota’s brother, Knox, had spent over a decade behind bars for murder. How many times had Knox stared at these same stars through concrete and razor wire? Missing everything.
Would that be me soon? The missing piece at these gatherings?
“You okay?” Dakota’s voice cut through my spiral.
I blinked, finding her watching me with that careful look. The one that said she knew exactly where my thoughts had gone.
“What’s it like?” I wondered. “For Knox in there?”
The fire crackled into the silence that followed.
Dakota’s eyes flicked to Ryker.
“Don’t.” His voice was steel. “You’re not going to prison.”
“You can’t promise that,” I said.
“I can, and I am,” Ryker declared.
“That’s not how any of this works.” My throat tightened. “You know that.”
“As a friendly reminder, we can’t discuss the case,” he said, addressing everyone but looking at me.
“I’m not trying to talk about the case. I just …” I pulled the blanket tighter. “This might be the last bonfire I ever experience. This might be one of the last nights I spend laughing with all of you. I need to prepare myself.”
Jace leaned forward, his business mode kicking in as he assessed me, then turned to Ryker. “What can we do? There has to be something.”
“We could use another private investigator,” Ryker said. “Someone to dig into everything.”
“Done.”
“I’ve got that PR specialist who saved my ass during the fake engagement disaster,” Axel added. “I can call her.”
“We’ll be character witnesses,” Scarlett announced. “All of us.”
“The prosecution will argue bias,” Ryker warned.