Chapter 9 Ryker
Ryker
PRESENT
Empire City can’t make pizza for shit. Everyone raves about how their deep-dish pizza is to die for, and they’re right: you choke on those thick-ass pies before you even taste it. No pizza slice should need a knife and fork.
Booker Bay, on the other hand, has MDs. A slice you can fold and get a mouthful of topping with is what I’m about. That’s exactly what MDs is best at, and after doing the books at Luxe all night, my mouth is fucking watering for it.
For that, and a certain curly-haired street racer with a Mustang.
I speed along the bridge on my motorbike.
Booker Bay’s lights get closer, bright in the night.
I wind through several streets and the scent of melted cheese and wood-fired bread hits my senses as I reach MDs.
Parking here is always a shitshow, even with a bike.
They have a tiny car park with four bays that are always taken, and as tempting as parking on the doorstep is, I park across the town centre, removing my helmet and jacket.
A storm is rolling in, making me wish I’d brought the truck instead. My leather jacket helps with the cold, but it won’t stop the rain from feeling like fucking rocks on the ride home. I slip it off for the moment, tossing it over my seat.
I need a nicotine hit. Pulling out a cigarette, I run the tip of my tongue along the filter, tasting the tobacco, before I take it between my lips and set it ablaze. I take a long pull, letting my tense insides unravel if only slightly. Smoke curls in the air.
My phone vibrates with Tyler’s name flashing across the screen.
‘Ty.’ I inhale, holding the smoke in my lungs, letting it burn before I exhale.
‘Alexander keeps going to an industrial site in EC.’ Tyler’s voice is monotone through the speaker.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Ah, an update on the maggot. ‘Anything else?’
‘Now that we’re back, we should see Renny. It’s been four years.’ There’s a clash of sounds in the background, as if he’s tossing his dishes into the sink. ‘I’ve heard he’s getting ready to take over the garage.’
‘Hmm,’ I grumble, flicking ash onto the concrete. ‘We can go by, but after he went off the rails, I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
‘He’s doing better.’
‘And I don’t want to be the reason he snaps and has another meltdown.’ Renny took that night harder than any of us. He completely shut down.
‘Well, we need to do something.’ Tyler’s quiet for a moment before adding, ‘I got another text yesterday.’
My hands clench. ‘I got it too.’ Right before Gianna wanted a damn apology for something I can never be sorry enough for. ‘Anything else?’
Tyler gives me a rundown on the latest information.
For a man who doesn’t speak much, he’s practically rambling tonight.
I scan the town centre, sucking in another lungful of nicotine.
Warm yellow light glows in the windows of MDs, the patrons silhouetted in the window.
The smell of pizza wafts in the air. Next door, the cinema windows are filled with posters of new releases and the triple tier fountain continues to run, the splashing water mixing with the sound of crickets. I have so many memories in this town.
I almost smile.
Maybe, in some other lifetime or some other reality, I’d be a different man. One who could appreciate the simple beauty in Booker Bay.
Then my ears prick up, because that fucking fountain doesn’t sound like a splash anymore. It starts dripping, and the sound grates my insides.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The sound pounds through my skull, bringing unwanted memories surging forward. The more I internally panic, the more my surroundings blur.
‘Ryker?’
Tyler’s voice comes through the speaker, but I barely hear him. Nausea rolls in my body while my mind loses the battle between past and present. My pulse pounds in my ears, the high-pitched ring of tinnitus setting in.
Guilt. Regret. Grief. Which gets to consume my body first?
‘Ryker, you there?’
Stumbling back, I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling like I’m surrounded by blood and the smell of burning flesh. Needles stab the back of my throat. I open my eyes, but only see blackness. I fall to my knees, gasping for air, rage unfurling from the pit of my stomach as my body tingles.
I crawl along on my hands and knees. My arm brushes against the hot exhaust of my bike and a searing pain burns through me.
I blink, forcing the images down, letting the physical pain from the burn return me to the present moment.
Slowly, the moonlit town comes back into view and the darkness slips away, my control creeping back into place. The memories replaced by the nightmare of reality.
My cigarette and phone are on the ground in front of me, a large chunk of ash billowing a trail of smoke while Tyler’s voice comes through incoherently in the speaker.
My arm throbs with a dull ache. I look down at the damage my bike exhaust did. The new welt that’s burned into my forearm is right on top of my snake tattoo.
Well, fuck. That was my second favourite piece. I roll my shirt down, letting the fabric soak up the blood, wincing as it touches raw skin.
There’s movement in my peripheral vision. I squint, trying to make it out. A woman in a black miniskirt and a very fucking familiar jacket. Suddenly, I don’t give a fuck about my panic attack or how good the pizza is here.
My eyes narrow as Gianna scurries past the fountain, looking over her shoulder. Always such a Little Suspect. The sight of her is all I need to pick up my phone and stand. I dust myself off and stomp out the cigarette.
‘I’ll call you back,’ I clip into the phone before hanging up.
Why is my Little Suspect sneaking around in the shadows?
Dark curls flow behind her as she rushes down the alley on the side of Paradiso. Chuckie pads along by her side, and the way he doesn’t take his eyes off her lets me know he’s on guard. Good boy.
I wait a few moments before following her.
Where the hell are you going?
As I round the corner, I stop short, hanging back to stay hidden in the alley. I watch as Gianna grips Chuckie’s collar with all her strength, pulling him back as he flashes his teeth and snarls at a blond man in front of her.
Who the fuck is that?
I strain my ears, but Chuckie’s growls at whoever this fucker is drown out their conversation.
I hang back, craning my neck to catch a look at the man’s face, but he doesn’t turn my way.
The only thing I see is a striped prep shirt tucked into khaki shorts.
The guy slips Gianna a piece of paper, his movements sending Chuckie into a frenzy.
I can relate. My body heats as his fingers graze against hers.
Every muscle tenses, wanting to rip his hands away from her.
The ridges along Chuckie’s spine stay taut until the man leaves and is well out of sight. Gianna crouches down and gives Chuckie a few calming pats before unlocking the door and heading into Paws on the Coast.
I wait a beat before slipping through the door too. The bell dings as I enter, but I have no interest in hiding. I put the lock in place behind me.
Going after the sound of her steps, I meet her down the hallway as she’s exiting a storeroom, a sack of dog food in her arms. I’m burning.
The air shifts, like it always does when she’s near.
The more I tell myself to stay away, the wilder my obsession becomes.
I cannot fucking help but be drawn to her.
When she notices me, she yelps and drops the bag and kibble scatters all over the lino floor. Before I even know what’s happening, she slaps me. Hard. Tingles spread hot across my face, and I let loose a chuckle. Fuck. Yes. She really is a fiery Little Suspect.
‘Ryker!’ She rips the AirPods from her ears, stumbling back as recognition sets in. ‘Fuck. I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t mean to …’ She pauses and shakes her head. ‘Actually, you know what? Yes, I did. How did you get in here?’
‘The door was open.’ I hike a thumb over my shoulder. ‘You should start locking things if you don’t want people following you.’
‘That doesn’t explain why you’re stalking me.’ She scowls and turns, returning a moment later with a dustpan and broom. She starts to lean down, but I take the items from her hands.
‘Nice jacket.’ I flick at the embroidered number on the left side of the fabric. ‘Got the hots for forty-four?’
Her cheeks flush pink, and she folds her arms across her chest as she mumbles something to herself.
‘Fuck off, Ryker.’ She purses her lips with an unimpressed smirk.
I drink her in – the soft lines of her face and the length of her perfect neck. My tongue runs along the back of my teeth, fighting the urge to taste her.
‘I’m just teasing.’ I sink down, sweeping the kibble into the pan. ‘Let me do it for you, Little Suspect.’
‘Getting on your knees for me?’
My insides flare, the image of her standing over me, wearing nothing but that jacket – my jacket – comes to mind, and I fight back a groan. ‘I’ll always be on my knees for you.’
I look up and see Gianna’s chest moving with her shallow breaths.
I rise, emptying the sweepings into the trash before handing the dustpan back.
She reaches around the handle with shaky fingers, but I don’t let go.
Leaning down, I brush my lips against her ear.
‘If you want me on my knees for a different reason, I’ll eat you all night long.
I’ll devour you until you cry. All you have to do is ask, Gianna, and I swear to fuck I’ll do it.
I bet you taste like my new favourite meal. ’
Her body shudders and my cock throbs at how responsive she is. She swallows hard before a sardonic scowl twists her lips. She snatches the dustpan from me, throwing it back into the room behind her.
‘If you’re gonna be here, help me feed the animals. Grab the bag.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ My body tingles at how easy she is to rile up.
She moves past me, and I hear her intake of breath as her breasts brush against my arm. I feel it too, baby. I pick up the bag, sling it over my shoulder and follow as she leads the way to the back.