Chapter 45
RYDER
My phone buzzes, and I ignore it. It buzzes again.
Tracker’s gaze drifts to me and then back to the road. His truck hits a bump. I curse, and he chuckles.
“Laugh it up, old man. Next time you find yourself with a bullet hole, I’m renting a dune buggy to escort you home.”
He smiles. “Hey, be careful. You can always walk. Besides, Hope says no more gunfights.”
“Do you always do what she says?” I’m curious, knowing he bends the rules when necessary.
“If I don’t, there’d better be a damn good reason.” He grins.
My phone buzzes again.
“Are you going to eventually put him out of his misery?”
I stare out the window, wondering how he knows it’s Cole. It could be one of the girls, but it’s most likely Cole. The man just won’t get a clue.
It’s been three days since he told me he loved me, and if I said I hadn’t thought about those words and every single other thing he said, I’d be a big, fat liar. It’s all I can think about, so much so that it’s about to drive me insane.
I lay in that horrible hospital bed, where the only comfort to be found was in the memory of those blue-purple eyes staring back at me and promising he wasn’t going anywhere. The only eyes I want to replace all the others that haunt me.
But everything he said doesn’t change the simple truth of who I am and what I can’t offer him.
Do I still want to read his messages? Yep. Will I torture myself and not look? Also, yes. At least for the time being.
He sends me messages every day about random stuff, but so far, I’ve held strong. I might’ve peeked. . .a little.
Tracker pulls into the driveway, and I’m so happy to be home where I can heal in peace and quiet and not talk to anyone if I don’t want to.
I carefully climb out of the truck and head inside. Tracker follows with the bag Jos packed for me.
We step into the comforting space, and I toss my phone on the table, heading to the fridge to see what I can drown my shitty emotions in. The cardboard box of Cole’s winning cookies sits inside, calling to me.
Tracker pulls out a chair. I need him to leave so I can eat the whole damn box and then not have to think about Cole every time I want a snack.
“That young man loves you, Ryder.” Tracker’s soft words hit my wound, and I straighten. “Stop pushing him away.”
That sounded a little bossy.
I turn, attempting to cross my arms, but that doesn’t quite work when one is tied up in a sling. “I’m on disability and not taking orders from you right now.”
One graying eyebrow raises. “It’s a sound suggestion. Something to ponder while sulking in your sour-ass mood.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not who he thinks I am. I’d only hurt him.”
Tracker kicks his feet out in front of him and crosses his ankles, getting comfortable.
My good shoulder slumps while the other burns like hell.
There’s a long stretch of silence. Tracker doesn’t move, but eventually, he lets out a slow breath that causes all of my insides to roll in on themselves, creating a protective layer from the force that is about to hit me.
“He knows enough.”
My spine stiffens. “What the hell does that mean?”
His eyes focus on the toes of his boots as my agitation soars.
Tracker finally mans up, and his eyes meet mine. “I told him. Not everything, but enough.”
I can’t breathe. There’s an explosion in the center of my chest, and shrapnel of every bit of shame and fear that I carry tears through my body. I try to pull air in, but rage crawls up my throat and blocks my airway.
I don’t know what my face shows, but he stays put, knowing he crossed a line.
“Breathe, Ryder. Just breathe. It’s ok.” His gentle voice does nothing to calm the storm.
I squeak, and it’s enough to shock my lungs back into rhythm, but they’re working too fast.
“You. . .had. . .no right.” It’s all I can choke out.
He rubs his jaw. “I didn’t, but I’d do it again.
” His eyes tell me he means every word. “That man loves you. You, Ryder. Not Badass Barbie. Not the victim. Not the cover you put on to guard others from your past and the pain it holds. You.” He stares at me.
“You’re not the only one who can read people. I can see it.”
I fist my hand, wanting to rip apart everything in sight and burn it all to ashes.
He leans forward, resting his arms on his legs, his head hanging.
“His dad came to me, needing help years ago. Someone he loved had been hurt, and he needed evidence. It wasn’t my kind of case, but he was desperate, and I understood that.
He was a good man and loved his children more than anything. ”
He pauses, his face tipping up to mine, his eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them.
I want to jab them out with a pencil so they won’t look at me like that. I want rage to overrule the lump growing in my throat.
“Cole is an astounding football player but an even better man.” He stares through me, seeing everything. “I would’ve never put you on this assignment otherwise.”
I glare at him, pulling air in through my nose to try to lessen the scorching ache. “You did this on purpose,” I spit.
“I took a risk to give you a chance.”
“A chance at what, letting the world see me for what I am? Care about a man that I can never be with? The most amazing one who deserves to have a wife and family, and someone who can give him those things.”
He pulls himself up. “At a life you should’ve always had.
Full of love and devotion. Trust and respect.
A chance at true happiness, or at least to be able to catch glimpses of it when you can.
To let a man see exactly who you are and for you to see that he’ll love you because of it. Not despite it, Ryder.”
His eyes are glossy, and I force out a breath, unable to look at him.
“When I pulled you from that yacht and every place after, this is what I always saw. You, strong and beautiful, going after every piece of shit out there. . .and someday being able to accept someone’s love.”
“You and your sisters, Hope. . . You all have shown me what love is. What that word really feels like. What it means.” He taps the center of his chest with his fist. “Right here. It doesn’t take any of it away, but it dampens it enough to allow the good stuff to have room to grow.
You have more love inside you than most, and that is because you know what it’s like to not be loved. ”
Vomit rolls into the back of my throat.
He swallows and swipes at his face. “I love you. I love you and your sisters, even TJ. . . ” He huffs a laugh. “This is it, Ry.” His voice is stronger, more commanding. “It’s time to win. It’s time to take everything back.”
I rest back against the counter, my entire body on high alert. “This. . .is all I know how to do.” I squeeze through my clenched teeth.
“Then keep doing it, but when you’re done, go home to someone who loves you.
Someone who makes the world a better place and makes you smile and laugh.
Someone you can fall into because otherwise you’ll fall apart.
If you don’t, this world, these people will beat you until there is nothing left.
You are my girl, and I can’t watch that happen. ”
He lets that hang there as the silence eats at both of us.
He crosses his arms again. “Maybe it’s time you think about Rodrigez’s offer.”
My eyes hit his. Is he serious?!
He shrugs. “Or there’s a dozen other standing open offers for you to consider.
At some point, you’ll have to let someone else do the fighting.
Your body and mind can only take so much.
You can still do what no one else can, but maybe it’s time to do it from the sidelines and see what life on the other side of darkness looks like. ”
He unfolds himself and stands, moving to me.
“I know you hate me right now. It’s ok.” He pauses, waiting for me to look at him.
“It’s also ok to take a chance and let the world see.
” He pulls me into his arms, and I go reluctantly.
He squeezes me, careful of my arm and shoulder.
“I’m so proud that you’re mine, and you always will be, but it’s ok if you want to be his, too. I’ll allow it.”
A tear runs down my cheek, and I huff out a laugh. “What if—”
“When you love someone, really love them, those things don’t matter.” He pulls away to look at me. “Don’t decide for him that they’re deal breakers.”
He grabs my phone from the table and hands it to me. “Quit hiding. You’ve never been that girl.”
I swipe at my nose, and he steps toward the door.
“Badass Barbie?” I say, trying so damn hard not to cry.
He waves a hand in the air, pulling the door open. “No more bullet holes, Ryder. I can’t handle that shit.” He turns back. “You might as well plan a long vacation because your ass is on desk duty until I’m not pissed anymore. Just so you know, that will be for quite some time.”
I bite my lip as another tear breaks loose. “You’re a hard ass.”
He smiles. “Damn straight, I am. Raised my girls the same way.” He points at me. “Call him. The way I see it, you’ve got nothing to lose.”
He leaves, and I stare at my phone, the messages calling to me. I shove my phone in my armpit, grab two cookies, and then head to my room.
I step in and stop. A vase crammed full of black roses sits on my nightstand. Of course, he chose the perfect flower for me. I smile. Next to them is a sudoku book, and in the middle of my bed is a folded sweatshirt I’ve seen before with a note.
I set the cookies aside. My hand shakes as I flip the paper open.
No blood on this one, Jones. I mean it.
I pull in air to prevent crumpling to the floor.
Give myself a chance to see what is on the other side of darkness.
I stare at my phone, trying to blink away the tears, knowing there’s only one person I’d want to venture outside the dark with. I just don’t know if I’m brave enough to ask him to help me find my way when, at any moment, he could get tired of the struggle of having to lead me out.