Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
RYKER
Liam is already waiting for me next to the subway station, large duffel bag in hand. He’s looking around, and he keeps checking his phone.
I’d sent him a postcard with the date, time, and location. Nothing else, but like a good boy, he got ready for me.
I could still leave him here. There’s nothing that says I need to follow through on my promises.
But it was nice to fuck somebody instead of my hand. And he does look so good with bruises.
I pull up next to him and roll down the passenger side window.
“Looking for somebody?” I ask.
Liam almost drops his phone, fumbling with it as he looks at me. A smile lights up his face. “Hey, stranger,” he purrs, sauntering closer before opening the back door of the SUV.
“How long were you waiting?” I ask.
At least ten minutes, based on how long I’d been parked and watching him.
“Forever,” he declares as he tosses his duffel bag into the back before getting into the passenger seat. “At least, it felt like forever.”
“But you would have kept waiting until evening,” I say with certainty.
Liam shoots me a glare. “I would not have. I was giving you another five minutes, then I was out of here.”
He’s a good liar, but I know he’s not telling the truth.
He’d have waited a lot longer than twenty minutes.
Once he’s in the passenger seat, I lock the doors and start driving. “Any guesses as to where I’m taking you? Aside from camping.”
Liam’s brows furrow. “Some place out in the wilderness? I don’t know. Anyway, it’s all the same to me. It’s outdoors.”
“Did you buy hiking boots, at least?” I briefly glance down at his shoes, which are designer sneakers. “Those are going to get soaked.”
“Yes,” he says. “I went to a sporting goods store and got them to pick out some things I’d need for a weekend of camping.”
“Did you pay in cash?” I ask idly. It’s the right time of day that traffic isn’t too horrible, and I’d told Liam to meet me close to the bridges so we can easily get out of the city. We’ve got about two and a half hours of driving ahead of us.
Let’s see how I feel about him after the drive.
Liam smiles at me. “Of course I paid in cash. Now. Where are we going?” he asks.
“To the mountains north of here. There’s a nice state park with some untouched woodland adjacent to it.” I hit the buttons to turn the radio onto some local station. Not as good as a podcast, but I doubt I’ll be able to pay attention while Liam is chattering away anyway.
Liam’s expression goes neutral, though, and he repeats, “The mountains.”
“The mountains,” I agree. Do I detect a small hint of fear from my passenger? “Is that an issue?”
“Of course not,” Liam says dismissively. “The mountains are where we met, after all.”
“So they are.” I take the ramp to the highway, and traffic clears up as soon as we’re free of the city.
Liam says nothing for a while, and I wonder if it means he’s having second thoughts.
“Maggie wanted to know why I decided to go camping,” he finally says, flashing me another sunny smile. “I told her it was part of my therapeutic journey. Also that I’ve lost my mind, which she believed more than the therapy bit.”
I suppress a small laugh—and annoyance. I suppose it was too much to expect him to keep his mouth shut about our trips entirely.
Maybe he’s not a complete idiot.
“What did you tell her?” I ask mildly.
“That I was going camping with the big-dicked asshole who put me out of commission for days because he wrecked me so hard,” he tells me. “She hates you.”
So she knows Liam disappeared with somebody, but not much beyond that.
Not ideal, but still doable.
It’s not like she knows which park I’m taking him to.
“She hates me because I prevented you from sleeping with her straight crush’s boyfriend?” I ask.
“That, and because I didn’t show up to the clubs for a few days,” he says with a dismissive gesture. “I told her I couldn’t walk properly because Godzilla was bigger than expected. I’m apparently shit with foundation and whatever.”
I glance at his neck quickly. I don’t see any bruising anymore, but it’s been over two weeks since then.
That means I’ll simply have to make new marks.
“Godzilla would have eaten you by now,” I say. I tap on my steering wheel, then ask, “Did you do what I said and keep your dick in your pants while I was gone?”
“Yep,” he replies. “I haven’t even really been to the clubs.” He fidgets.
There’s something he’s not saying.
I’m pretty good at drawing people into conversation, though. “No? What, you don’t trust yourself to stay celibate if you’re surrounded by other men?”
Liam’s head jerks up, and he stares at me. “I’m not that much of a slut,” he huffs. “No, it’s just…” He pauses, fidgeting more with the bottom hem of his tight shirt. “Oh, it’s nothing, really.”
“All right.” I sit back into the seat and focus on driving.
Liam continues to fidget, and like I suspected, the silence starts to gnaw at him.
“Okay, so I’ve been trying to lie low,” he says in a rush. “I, um. I’m just a witness and all, but my lawyer said to stop going out and partying as much for a little while.”
It takes a second for the implication of his words to hit me.
All amusement leaves me, replaced by annoyance.
“What?” I growl. “You’re a witness? To what?”
He grimaces. “I… They have some really shitty pictures of me dancing with that guy in a club. My lawyer says it’s nothing and it’s all stupid.”
“Which guy? And that doesn’t sound like a witness questioning.” I grip the steering wheel tighter.
If somebody’s sniffing around him already, then it’s not safe to have him with me.
“They said I’m only a witness,” he says stubbornly. “And I only got a lawyer because I know they’ll try to trip people up and make them confess to shit they didn’t do.”
“Of course you get a lawyer,” I snap. “But you shouldn’t be on anyone’s radar in the first place! How could you be so stupid?”
“I’m so very fucking sorry I danced with a guy!” Liam says. “I dance with a lot of guys! They’ve got nothing on me.”
The way he says it pings even more warning bells inside me.
“Which guy?” I demand again. “Which guy did you dance with?”
Liam stares out the window instead of looking at me. “Um.”
“If you don’t tell me right now, I’m taking the next exit and bringing you back to New Bristol.” I eye the highway signs, which signal an exit in 1.5 miles. “You’ve got about 1 minute.”
He huffs in irritation. “Reid Bertrand,” he replies. “It’s not a big deal!”
Not a big deal.
A visceral anger slams into me, hotter than I’ve ever felt before.
I don’t get pissed at people.
I tire of them, I get annoyed, I’m indifferent.
But I’m never angry.
I speed past the exit. Liam sighs in relief.
“You’re being questioned in relation to the murder you did commit,” I say in clipped tones. “And that’s not a big deal?”
“I have a good lawyer,” he says. “And she says there’s nothing to worry about.” He eyes me, wariness creeping into his expression. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know it would be a big thing.”
“Of course you knew it would be a big thing,” I counter. “That’s why you were reluctant to tell me.”
The next exit is for a smaller county road, and I slide the SUV into that lane without signaling.
“What are you doing?” he demands. “Come on, Ryker. It’s not like I was charged with anything. And I didn’t want to tell you because it’s nothing.”
I drive another three miles in silence.
“Ryker? Is this the way to the campsite?” Liam asks.
I pull over on the side of a road, by a grass plain that has a run-down cabin on it. At some point this was somebody’s home, but like a lot of the rural houses, it must’ve fallen into disrepair when the owners left and nobody maintained the land.
“Get out,” I say.
Liam blinks at me, expression betraying his confusion. “What?” He shakes his head. “I’m not getting out out here. There could be an axe murderer in there!”
I turn the SUV off and grab my keys. I get out and walk around the side to pull open the passenger side door.
“Get out,” I repeat. “Or I’ll drag you out by your fucking hair.”
He stares at me, as though trying to determine whether I’m being serious or not. He must realize I am, because he slowly gets out of the vehicle. “God, what the fuck, Ryker? You could at least bring me back to New Bristol!”
I grab his arm and drag him through the tall grass towards the abandoned home. “I knew you couldn’t handle it,” I say. “The fucking calling card should have warned me away.”
Liam struggles against me, but he’s no match for my strength. “Wait. Just wait. I’m not going to do anything else stupid like that. It’ll blow over, and it’ll be fine,” he pleads. He’s breathless, and a glance down at his crotch shows that he’s getting hard from this.
The front door to the building is slightly ajar, and one good kick has it flying open. Some animal chitters, surprised by the noise.
I shove Liam inside the house. He stumbles to the floor with a hard gasp.
And he’s still fucking hard.
I go over to him and press my boot against his crotch. “Will it be worth it? Landing in jail because you desperately needed to impress me?”
“I’m not going to end up—” He sucks in a deep breath as I put more weight on his erection. “Ugh, Ryker, I’m not. I have a good lawyer.”
“Good lawyers can’t help you forever.” I shake my head. “No. It was a nice idea, but I don’t need this.” I step away from him. “You can hitchhike back to New Bristol.”
He sits up, still breathing heavily, and grabs at my ankle. “You can’t leave me out here. Seriously, Ryker. You have to at least take me back.” I can hear the panic rising in his voice, but it doesn’t seem to affect his cock either.
“I don’t have to do anything.” I kick him in the chest to dislodge his arm. He cries out and curls into himself. “I’m not putting up with an idiot.”
I stride out the door and back toward the SUV.
“Ryker!” Liam cries out. “Please! Wait!”
I shake my head and get into the car.
Liam makes it out of the shack as I pull away.
I turn up the music so I don’t hear his muffled shouts.
So much for my fun camping trip. Maybe I can find another hitchhiker somewhere. Now I really do need something to relieve the stress.
I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea in the first place. There’s a reason I’ve always worked alone. Trust is hard to come by.
What’s that saying?
Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.
Well, I’ve never bothered sharing my secret with anyone I wasn’t about to kill.
Liam doesn’t know anything, I remind myself. He’s got some vague ideas, but I haven’t confessed to anything specific. If he does report me to anyone, what’s he going to say? ‘Ryker No Last Name joked about killing people.’
I’ll need a new vehicle again.
Shit. I just got this SUV. I don’t want to find yet another used car to buy. I like the SUV.
I liked the idea of camping with Liam, too.
I like how he looks at me. I like how warm he is. I like that he’s so fucking eager.
Ten minutes and I’m already regretting leaving the little brat behind.
What are the advantages of going back and getting him? He’s a liability. He’s going to get himself caught because he’s got only half a brain cell.
Well, he hasn’t been caught yet. The first murder has gone unsolved for these past months. There still hasn’t been any movement on the guy he’d probably killed in the mountains.
He’d agree to do anything I wanted.
He’ll look good in red when I tire of him.
I sigh to myself and, after a quick check, make a U-turn on the road.
If he’s still there, maybe I’ll let him make it up to me.
I find the run-down cabin, but I don’t see him immediately. I think a single vehicle had passed me while I was driving. Maybe Liam got supremely lucky and was picked up immediately.
I drive the SUV onto the field again and park.
After a few seconds of waiting, I spot Liam coming out from the cabin.
He looks at me, freezes for a split second, then runs the distance from the cabin steps to the car. He flings the door to the SUV open and gets in, slamming the door closed.
“You came back,” he says, his bottom lip wobbling.
“Apparently.” I reach out and grip his chin, forcing him to look at me. “You want to be with me? You don’t try to keep shit from me anymore. I’ll decide what’s important. Got it?”
Liam swallows hard, but he nods. “Yes,” he whispers. “I won’t keep anything from you. I wasn’t trying to. I just didn’t think it was all that important.”
I dig my fingers into his jaw. “And don’t fucking lie to me.”
“I’m not lying!” he protests. “Ms. Lockheart says they don’t have anything but some grainy pictures. They were interviewing some mafia guy too. Maybe they think he did it.”
I roll my eyes and release him. “You’d better hope so.”
I start the car up again. “I’m going to make you set up the tent all by yourself,” I threaten. “Fucking little shit.”
“I don’t know how to set up a tent,” he says, but he sounds more subdued. He puts his seatbelt on. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I fucked up. I won’t do it again.”
I somehow doubt that.
But his submission makes heat pool in my belly, and I feel that stirring of interest.
I can find some creative ways to punish him.
There’s no need for this to be a wasted trip.