Chapter 13
COLE
It’s been an hour since I pulled into the parking garage with TJ’s truck on my tail. Instead of sitting in the quiet while he silently dissects my every move, I turned on game tape, hoping to focus on anything other than wondering when Ryder will get back.
It was all fine. I was just beginning to feel like a form of myself I hadn’t recognized in so long, and then she took off. Just like that. She hopped on a motorcycle and disappeared.
The open flesh on her shoulder is all I see while trying to force my attention to the guys moving across the screen. Her words roam my mind on repeat.
This is what I do. I help those who need someone to come after them.
I don’t know what that means. She was assigned to me, and Tracker said she was the best. I’m beginning to think that wasn’t in reference to guarding athletes.
“So, is this what you do all day?” TJ sits in the corner, scrolling his phone like he couldn’t be more bored out of his mind.
I recall what Ryder said to me earlier about not being intimidated.
Insecurity has never been an issue. TJ can scowl and think I’m just some dumb jock.
He has no idea what my life has been like, what I’ve sacrificed, or how hard I’ve worked to get here.
He’s one more person who doesn’t know shit about me.
I made it here by my own hard work, and I learned from the best. My dad knew not only how to play the game but also what it meant to be a man. He taught me both.
I ignore TJ, unwilling to explain anything to him. I watch the game, tracing the defensive moves I’ll face at the end of the week.
His phone buzzes and then buzzes again.
I glance at him, and his gaze lifts to mine.
“Is that Ryder?”
He stares at me, not answering in retaliation.
I don’t know what his problem is. It was one thing when I thought he was Ryder’s boyfriend. I wouldn’t want my girl moving in with some guy, but I’m over whatever this is.
I lean forward, resting my arms on my knees. “I know you’re not happy about this situation, but what’s your problem, man?”
He scoffs, leaning back and crossing his muscular, tattooed arms over his chest. The dark scruff that covers most of his face hides any expression other than loathing.
“This is an assignment. Her job is to make sure these threats don’t end up your reality.” He pauses, his eyes as intense as they were the last time he had words for me. “You keep your thoughts and hands to yourself.”
It’s my turn to scoff. “I get the impression Ryder is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”
“You don’t know anything about her.” It’s a bit of a growl.
He’s right. I really don’t know anything about Ryder, and tonight proved that. But she didn’t like his non-explicit claim on her.
“I know she doesn’t like you setting boundaries for her.”
He stands. “Is that so?”
I stand. “You have nothing to worry about while she’s here with me.”
He steps closer. “I don’t because if anything happens—”
He’s cut off by the door swinging open. Ryder stands in the doorway with blood splattered across her white T-shirt.
“Should I step back out in the hall and let you two finish whatever the hell this is?” Her tone is flat, and she looks worn out.
I forget the joker across from me and take a few steps closer, inspecting her. “Are you ok?”
She closes the door.
“Yours or his?” TJ points to the stains on her shirt and jeans.
“Not mine this time.” She runs a hand through her messy hair.
Not her blood. This time.
“How is she?” TJ asks.
“Not good.” Ryder glances at me out of the corner of her eye. Her voice softens. “Hope’s with her at the hospital.”
“Shit.” TJ rubs his jaw.
Her eyes return to me. “You good?”
I want to laugh, but I hold it in. Am I ok? “You first?”
It takes her a second, but she nods.
“How’s he?” TJ steps closer.
Her head lolls. “He won’t be coming after her anytime soon.”
“Anyone else involved?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “Just him.”
TJ steps between us. He looks at me and then Ryder. “You want me to hang out for a while?”
Her stiff stance eases. “No. I’m good. I need a shower.”
He lingers a second like he’s contemplating arguing, then fist bumps her shoulder, and I catch her slight wince. “You did good tonight. Probably saved her life.”
Ryder blows out a breath, her gaze dropping to the floor. “No probably about it.”
My stomach churns as I listen to them talk about what she just went through to. . .save someone. I don’t understand anything about Ryder and what she really does. I feel like an idiot.
“I’ll call you in the morning,” TJ says as he pulls open the door, but his eyes lock on mine, issuing one final warning.
I turn my attention to Ryder, not giving him the satisfaction. He can take his overprotectiveness, his ego, or whatever it is, and fuck off. Nothing will happen to Ryder that he needs to be concerned about.
As the door clicks shut, her eyes remain glued to the floor. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Ryder.”
Her chin remains tucked to her chest.
“Seriously, what happened?”
Her gaze drifts up to mine. “Cole.” It comes out so gently. “I know you’re curious and. . .worried, but this is part of my life. This is what I do.”
My simmering frustration begins to boil. “What does that mean?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want to tell you.”
I see the earnestness in her eyes but also. . .pain. So much anguish.
I keep my voice soft, even though I feel nothing like it. “You walked out the door and then two hours later strolled back in with blood painted across your chest. I’m just supposed to pretend like nothing happened.” I stare at her. “This is . . . ” I search for the words. “This is crazy.”
Her weight shifts from one foot to the other, and she wraps her arms around herself but not in defense. It’s as if she’s trying to cover herself to prevent me from seeing what I’m discovering is her reality.
Her deep turquoise eyes move over my face, and it’s the first time I find tenderness there. “You can’t unsee the things I’ve seen. The places I’ve been.”
I want to know exactly what that means, but apparently I’m not brave enough to ask.
“It’s just. . . It’s better if you never have to.”
Her words are as gentle as a whisper. Protection. That’s what she’s doing. She’s guarding me, but is it for me or herself, I wonder. Maybe it’s both.
The rawness of her words burns through me. They come from wounds that run deep. Deeper than I’m supposed to be allowed to see. My stomach squeezes tight, wanting to see everything but also fearful of being unable to handle whatever it is.
I nod, letting it go, not making her face another battle tonight.
Without another word, she heads to her room.
I stand lost. I don’t know what happened or what to make of her words. It’s irritating as hell, and even though she might want to protect me, I want a chance to understand.
I run a hand over my face, moving back to the couch and the game.
I’m restless and agitated, and I don’t like it. I don’t know much, but I’m pretty sure the woman in the other room fights a world I’ve been blind to.
She told me this is her job. Whatever that really means. I want to know Ryder, but that wasn’t part of the deal. She’s my protection agent. I’m just another job to her. Someone she needs to keep safe, and that’s what she’s doing.
I rest my head on the back of the couch, hitting the rewind button to watch the play again. I guess it’s time I get back to doing mine.
______
I roll over in the dark, lying completely still. I hear it again. I rub my eyes and sit up, listening.
It’s a moan that turns into a whimper. I slide out of bed, my feet hitting the cold tile, shocking my system awake.
I hear it again, louder this time.
I twist the knob and pull my door open as she cries out. I move across the hall quickly. Her door is partially open, and a nightlight provides enough of a glow to see her thrashing around in bed.
“Don’t! Stop!” she kicks.
I’m frozen, unsure of what to do. My heart rate spikes, remembering when I tried to help her with her shoulder.
She cries out again. It’s more of a ground-out scream.
I slip around the side of her bed and drop to my knees. “Ryder,” I say softly, hoping she’ll hear my voice. She punches and kicks. “Ryder.”
She whines, and it’s gut-wrenching.
I swallow. “Ryder, wake up. It’s ok.” I resist touching her.
She whimpers.
“Shhh, it’s ok.”
Her eyes pop open, and in a flash, she’s sitting upright and a foot further away. Her eyes are wild, and she shrinks back, pulling the sheet with her.
I risk speaking. “Ryder, it’s ok. It was just a dream.”
Her eyes never leave my face. I’m not sure she even blinks as she sits tucked into a ball, breathing fast. Her hair is matted to her sweat-soaked skin.
I stay perfectly still, letting her see me. After a second, her eyes dart around the room and then land back on me.
She runs a hand over her face and into her hair. “I’m…I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s ok. Are you. . .all right?”
She nods subtly.
I give it a few seconds, then push against the bed to stand, and she flinches. It’s a fist to my gut. I don’t know what to do or how to help.
I think about when my brothers or sister had bad dreams. This is nowhere near the same, but it’s all I know.
“Do you. . .want me to sit here with you for a while?”
She stares at me with her knees pulled tightly to her chest, looking so small.
“No.” It’s demanding. “I’m fine.” She says it, but I’m not convinced I should leave her.
I stand, and she watches me. I inch slowly to the door, but stop. “I’m going to watch something boring on TV. If you can’t sleep, come find me. Ok?”
It takes a second, but then another gentle nod. I leave her, hating it when she’s far from fine.
I leave my door open and turn on the light beside my bed.
I flip on SportsCenter, hearing the shower turn on across the hall.
I try to relax, but all I see is her squeezed into the corner of the bed.
She told me that where she’s been doesn’t even compare to the military.
I thought it was a joke, but I just witnessed the truth of those words.
I close my eyes, unable to let myself even imagine, and I feel like a fucking coward.
I watch the latest highlights, and after a while, I hear the refrigerator open and close.
I want to check on her and make sure she’s ok, but something tells me there’s nothing about what’s happened that’s ok.
There’s not a damn thing I can do or say that will make whatever she was battling better.
It ignites a kind of anger in me that’s not completely unfamiliar but also new.
Ryder thinks I’m fragile, and maybe I am compared to what some have seen and been through.
I’m starting to fear I might even be ignorant.
A result of the shelter I’ve been provided.
By many standards, I’ve lived a privileged life, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t known pain or loss or that evil exists.
Flashes of Maggie crying and hurt fill my mind. My stomach churns, and a cool sweat coats my skin.
I sit in bed, awake for a long time, wanting to be sure she doesn’t need anything. Eventually, I drift to sleep, but I know when I wake, not a single part of everything that’s happened tonight will have left me. All I know for sure is. . .I don’t want it to.