Chapter Nineteen
RYDER
At eight, I frowned at my unread texts.
At eight-fifteen, I glowered at my still unread texts.
At eight-thirty, I paced as my call went to voicemail.
At eight-forty-five, I sent a few salty texts demanding Alex stop ignoring me.
They stayed unread.
At eight-fifty, my annoyance turned to worry.
Alex told me he’d only stick around until eight, then give up and return home if Kenny didn’t show.
Not hearing from him likely meant Kenny arrived before the deadline.
What if he’d shown up high as a kite and unable to process the conversation?
What if he’d been confrontational and aggressive?
What if he’d been catatonic and Alex had to call the paramedics or something equally dramatic?
So many things could have gone wrong, and here I sat at home like an idiot twiddling my thumbs.
At eight-fifty-two, I decided to drive over there.
I stuffed my bare feet into the closest pair of sneakers and grabbed my keys on the way to the door.
At eight-fifty-three, I decided I was being ridiculous.
Alex would call me if he needed help with Kenny or if something went wrong. Most likely, the brothers were deep in conversation, and Alex wasn’t paying attention to his phone. That would be a good thing. I shouldn’t interrupt.
I set the keys down but kept the sneakers on as I walked to the couch, where I sat, bouncing my knee and gnawing on the inside of my cheek.
At eight-fifty-eight, my gut screamed at me that something was wrong.
At eight-fifty-eight and thirteen seconds, I hit my limit.
“Fuck this,” I muttered as I hopped back up and grabbed my keys again. If Alex didn’t want me to bust in on his conversation and get all up in their family business, then he should have responded to my damn texts.
And calls.
Rude.
I ran out the door and straight to the elevator, which opened immediately. Thank God. After stepping in, I hit the button for the lobby at least twenty times, like an impatient child hoping to speed up the process. Because that’s how it works.
“Come on,” I muttered as I tapped an impatient rhythm with my toe. Why the fuck was this elevator so slow? For what I paid for this place, it should move at warp speed.
I’d just passed the eighth floor when my phone rang. In my haste to retrieve the device from my pocket, I bobbled and nearly dropped the damn thing. Thankfully, I managed to get it under control before it hit the ground.
Alex’s name flashed across the screen.
I’d never be able to give words to the immense relief that washed over me.
It had my breath whooshing out and my knees wobbling to the point I sagged against the elevator wall.
Ninety-nine percent of the time, I was a chill guy, but for some reason, tonight fell into that one percent, and I’d fully convinced myself something catastrophic had happened to Alex.
Chuckling at my foolishness, I lifted the phone to my ear. “ ‘Bout time you called, mister. You’d laugh your ass off if you knew the state I’d worked myself into worrying about your sexy ass. I think a punishment might be in order.”
Silence greeted me for about ten seconds before an anguished, “Ryder?” met my ear.
“Kenny?” My spine straightened as I gripped the phone so tight, I risked cracking the screen. “W-why are you calling me from Alex’s phone?”
“He… um… he’s…”
I’d never heard him sound like this, vulnerable, insecure, scared, almost childlike.
It plunged an icy bolt of terror through my heart.
Dread like I’d never experienced filled my insides to the brim, practically pouring out of my ears.
“Just fucking say it, Kenny,” I whispered, still squeezing the phone until my knuckles cramped.
“He’s hurt, Ryder. It… it’s bad. He’s hurt bad.”
My entire world crashed around me as visions of Alex lying dead in the street after a hit-and-run bombarded my brain.
“N-no…” My legs shook until my knees knocked.
I tried to ask for more information. I tried to ask what hurt bad meant, but my throat ceased working.
Kenny seemed to hear my unspoken question anyway.
“He was attacked,” Kenny rasped.
“Oh God.” My knees gave out, and I hit the floor as the elevator doors opened to the lobby.
“It’s so bad, Ryder.” His voice rose to a high-pitched, hysterical panting rush of words I could barely decipher.
“There was blood, and he was so bruised. Oh fuck.” It sounded as though he doubled over, breathing like someone knocked the wind out of him with a fist to the gut. “I-I thought he was dead at first.”
I moaned a low, pitiful sound. Noises around me vaguely registered. Someone gasped and called for help because a man collapsed in the elevator.
Me? Were they talking about me? I couldn’t give it any brain power. Every ounce of my strength focused on understanding Kenny’s rambling and learning what happened to the man I loved.
“They took him away in an ambulance, and they wouldn’t let me come. I think, um, I think they’re going to, um, Mass Gen. My Uber will be here in two minutes.”
Massachusetts General Hospital. The closest trauma center. Fuck, did he require that high level of care? Who could have done this to him?
“Ryder?” The voice seemed to come from miles away. I blinked and looked up into the concerned face of John, my favorite doorman. Any other time, I’d have praised him for finally using my first name, but tonight I couldn’t think beyond Alex. “Are you all right? Do you need help?”
I blinked. Mass Gen. I needed to get there five minutes ago. “Kenny, I’m on my way. I’ll meet you there,” I said into the phone as I shot to my feet.
“I’m okay, John. Thank you,” I said as I sprinted from the elevator with my heart in my throat, leaving the man holding the sliding doors open with a baffled expression. I’d have plenty of time to explain my bizarre behavior later, once I had Alex back in my arms.
“Ryder?” Kenny whispered, still in my ear. I’d been so focused on running out to my car, I didn’t realize I hadn’t hung up. I’d also gotten off at the lobby instead of the garage.
“Shit,” I whispered as I ran for the stairs. “Yeah, Ken?”
I slammed through the stairwell door and sprinted down a flight of stairs toward the underground garage.
“It’s my fault.”
“It’s not, Ken. You couldn’t have known—”
“It is.” He choked out a harsh sob. “They were looking for me. It was a message for me.”
The words stopped me dead in my tracks, halfway down the stairs. “What the fuck? Kenny, what the fuck do you mean?” I screamed into the stairwell, and the echo nearly gave me a heart attack.
“I owe someone money. A lot of money. They came for me, but Alex was here.”
“Jesus Christ.” I doubled over as pain speared through my abdomen.
Did someone attack Alex because Kenny owed them money?
Did that kind of thing actually happen in real life?
My stomach lurched, and I slapped a hand over my lips as I swallowed a mouthful of molten bile.
“I-I can’t do this now. I can’t talk to you. I have to get to Alex.”
I hung up before Kenny could say anything else and practically threw myself down the final set of stairs.
The entire fifteen-minute drive to the hospital was a blur of lights, unsafe road maneuvering, and sheer panic. I’d never driven faster or with such reckless abandon in my life, yet somehow, I managed to arrive at the hospital in one piece—physically at least.
Emotionally, I’d shattered into a million panicked fragments. Not knowing what I was about to walk into had my heart stuttering in my chest and my stomach threatening to upend all over my steering wheel.
I cranked my wheel, skidding into the first spot I saw in the ER parking lot. As I shoved out of my car, I couldn’t help but notice I’d parked way over the line, basically taking up two spots. Oh well. No way would I waste one second fixing my rushed parking job.
A few onlookers stared at me with open curiosity as I raced across the parking lot like a madman.
Were we all there for the same reason? Was every poor bastard here because their life was falling apart, and someone they loved was suffering in that stark brick building?
Any other time, I might have spared a few feelings for them, wondering about their stories.
Now all I cared about was getting to Alex.
The double doors parted with a hiss, admitting me into the loud, bustling ER waiting area. Frantic, I turned in a full circle, whipping my head back and forth as I searched for Kenny.
“Ryder.”
I jerked and spun left to find Kenny hovering by two empty chairs. He looked like shit in an oversized faded black hoodie and baggy jeans despite the summer heat. His skin was even paler than the last time I saw him, and his eyes seemed to have sunken into his gaunt face.
“Where’s Alex?” I ran to him, grabbing the sleeves of his hoodie. It took every ounce of strength I had not to shake the words out of him violently.
“Um…” He glanced at a second set of double doors, this pair leading back into the bowels of the ER. “They said they’re working on him back there, but they won’t let me see him.”
“Working on him?” I whispered, searching Kenny’s bleak eyes. “What the fuck does that mean?”
He shook his head, face blanching even whiter. “I don’t know. They said someone will come talk to me when they can.”