Chapter 37
RYDER
“Like this?”
Maggie leans over, inspecting my work. “Yep. That’s perfect. And Cole said you can’t cook,” she scoffs.
“I’m not sure I’d call pigs in a blanket cooking, Mags,” Cole says from the table where he and the kids are arguing over a heated game of UNO.
I glance at him across the room, holding Quinn over his shoulder, and there’s a flash of that slick smile that curls my stomach inward.
“If we’re making it and you’re eating it, it’s cooking,” Maggie says, popping open another can of crescent rolls.
Cole and I spent the morning sitting around the fire and eating s’mores. Well, I ate them, and Cole mostly ate the crackers and drank coffee. Now, thinking about going home and all that awaits has me wanting to hightail it back to that little cabin.
When he asked about how I hurt my shoulder, I hesitated to tell him the details, but at that moment, I knew I could. It’s a scary thing, trusting someone. It gives them the power to hurt you. That was something I learned before I even knew what trust was.
“Take that!” Teddy says, and the entire table groans. “Blue, suckas.”
There’s an eruption of comments and jabs that Cole joins in on, making them all laugh.
A smile tugs at my lips as I roll another tiny hot dog inside the dough.
“I’m sad you guys have to leave in the morning,” Maggie says quietly, dropping more doughy triangles in front of me. “I’m really glad you could come. I’ve been worried about him. He likes to carry the pressure all by himself, and it’s been taking a toll for a while now.”
I peek at him again, and he tosses a card in the middle with a “Bam!” then resumes running his large hand up and down Quinn’s tiny back.
“I’m glad he’s got you looking out for him,” she says softly, and I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, wondering if she knows more than I thought she did.
“His heart took a pretty good beating when he was so young. He’s kept it closed off all this time, but he has the biggest heart of all of us.
I give him endless amounts of shit, but I can’t wait for him to have this for himself one day. ”
My eyes roam the kitchen and their giant family, watching him shift Quinn to cradle her.
She’s right again. He deserves to have all of this.
This is what Cole should have, and someone he can share it with completely. Someone he can build a life and a family with.
A tidal wave of nausea slowly rolls upward, and the ache in my chest is so intense that its force pushes into my eyes. I inhale slowly and swallow bile seeping into my throat and blink away the blur clouding my vision.
What the hell am I doing?
I rest my fists on the counter, pulling air in through my nose, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
He’s my assignment, not—
I stop myself. I have to go home and get back to my life, where I can do good with everything that hurts so damn bad. To the ones who need me.
And Cole. . .
My throat burns with unfairness as my eyes fill with rage at myself. I want him to be happy and have everything I could never give him.
Maggie pulls the full pan away to put it in the oven.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I wipe my shaky hands on the towel. I slip from the kitchen, needing to escape the blast of reality.
I answer, hurrying down the stairs. “Hey, Track.” I step into the room and close the door, grateful for the space and time to myself.
“We got ‘em.” Tracker’s firm voice hits my ear.
“What?” I try to pull my brain back from watching what I think might’ve been hope swirl down the drain.
“Mindy. Van hacked into the security cameras and spotted her outside Cole’s apartment building the night the envelope was left. TJ’s been following her. Her roommate has a large black SUV.”
“Mindy? She’s been threatening Cole?” I sit on the bed, trying to make sense of what he’s telling me.
“She seems to have a long-standing obsession with Cole. I guess she’s fed up with him ignoring her. Get this,” Tracker says as if he’s getting to the best part. “She transferred to the University of Colorado during her sophomore year. She was a cheerleader, graduated, and continued to follow him.”
“Seriously?” I ask, not understanding. “How did I miss this?”
Track laughs. “Once Van spotted her, Rodrigez did me a favor and had someone run her through their system. She changed her name before she was hired on with the Stingrays. She even looks different. Must have had some surgeries or enhancements, or whatever that makeup crap is Lyla was talking about that makes you look like a totally different person.”
I think about her interactions with Cole, trying to wrap my mind around this.
“Anyway, I called my contact at the department and gave them some of the details. They have enough to search her place and are doing so as we speak. You should be all good when you get back, but I’ll let you know.”
I should be all good.
I rub my forehead, processing what this means. When we get back to Miami, this assignment is over. My time with Cole is done, and he’ll be able to go on with his life.
“Ry, everything ok?” Track’s concerned tone is a blow straight to the chest, and it’s suddenly hard to breathe again.
I lean forward, resting my head in my hand.
I swallow the lump in my throat, and it drops into the pit in my stomach that’s growing wide. “Yeah. It’s all good.” I use his words, not having any of my own at the moment.
It’s what’s best for Cole. I made the mistake of letting myself think and feel anything other than what’s required to do the job. I know better. I’ve always known what I am and what I will never be.
I press my fist to my forehead. Hard. “You sure Mindy is responsible for all of this?”
“She’s definitely hyperfixated. She’s carried around notebooks, tracking his stats and any personal information she could gather since college. She has knowledge and access to Cole. It seems to fit. Plus, she’s smart. She’s done a damn good job covering her tracks.”
This is it. It’s not how I imagined it, but it’s for the best—a quick, clean resolution.
“Ry,” Track’s voice is soft now. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah. I’m glad you got her. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
We hang up, and I squeeze my phone, wanting it to break into a million little pieces as my eyes burn with anger. . .at myself.
I take some deep breaths, willing it to stop. I won’t do this, not here.
There’s a light knock on the door, and it opens. “Hey, we’re starting SkipBo. Wanna play?”
I can’t look at him—his gentle eyes or his smile or the confidence that radiates from him that I let myself get lost in. I can no longer feel what I was feeling or want the things I was beginning to let myself have.
The door clicks shut, and he steps closer. “Hey, everything ok?”
I want to throw my phone across the room.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is filled with worry.
Dammit.
I want to fall against him and have him tell me it will all be ok—that I’m still safe with him.
The only reason I’m here is to protect him. He no longer needs that, but I can save him from what I would eventually cost him.
“Ryder.” The bed dips beside me, and I move over an inch, needing to not touch him or be touched. “What’s going on?”
“Tracker called. They got him. Or really, her.” I pull myself up, only having to get through tonight.
“What?”
“Mindy was the one threatening you. TJ tailed her, Van found security footage of her outside your apartment, and Tracker had someone we work with dig into her background.”
“Wait. Mindy? Like, PR Mindy? She’s been doing this?” He sounds just as surprised as I am.
“Did you know she went to college with you?” I ask, knowing he would have told me this if he knew.
“No.”
“Evidently, she transferred during her sophomore year. She changed her name. Even if you’d known her, you might not put it together.” I stand to gather some of my things and flip open my suitcase.
“Wow. I wouldn’t have thought. . . ” He doesn’t finish his statement.
I fold a shirt and drop it in my bag.
“So, what now?” His question is tentative, and I hate it.
I grab my sweatpants and shove them in. “Tracker spoke with the authorities, and they’re taking over. The Stingrays will be contacted. They think they have enough evidence to hold her, and you can file a restraining order.”
“So, that’s just it?”
“Yep. We’ll wait to hear, but Tracker’s not expecting any snags.”
There are a few seconds of silence while I continue to pack.
“And what about you?”
“Well, you’re officially back to being a free man.” I try to joke, but I do a sucky job.
After a moment, he stands and moves toward me. “Hey.”
I frantically toss in another shirt, and his hand slides up my back.
“Ryder, hey.” He takes the shirt from me and lays it down, turning me toward him. “What’s going on? Tell me.”
I keep my eyes glued to the floor because if I don’t, I’ll run far and fast when what I need is to get home. “Nothing. I’m just glad they caught her.”
His finger gently lifts my chin, tipping my face up to his.
I close my eyes.
“This isn’t nothing.” His voice is soft. “What happens when we get back tomorrow?” The question comes out with a hint of apprehension, as if he’s not sure he wants an answer.
I force my eyes open. Those perfect blue eyes rest on mine, waiting. His hand remains firm on the middle of my back, holding me here.
My professional assignment might be over, but I will always protect this man. The only one I’ve ever felt anything for, even if I’m not completely sure what these feelings are.
My job now is to guard him from me so he can have a life with someone who deserves all his goodness and everything he has to offer.
“It’s time for me to go home.”