Chapter 15 - Liam #2
But none of them have ever compared to Ryker. He isn’t try-hard or proving a point. His dominance is calm and natural, like he was born for this. It’s not some sort of pissing contest for him.
When Ryker breaks the kiss, I have to gasp for air.
“More?” I beg immediately.
Ryker shakes his head. “Your friend is probably almost here.” He steps away from me, and I sway in my spot.
Ugh.
I might’ve been able to get fucked if I hadn’t invited some rando to join us. Maybe I’d have even been able to get off.
Three days is an eternity to go without coming.
With any luck, I’ll get something better and fucked after, though, which lifts my mood right back up.
I head to one of the camping chairs by the fire, plopping down on it.
Ryker hands me some indie IPA beer, then places hot dogs on skewers. He’s got several of them prepped by the time Jimmy pulls up in his truck.
That is a very massive truck, and the decal on the side is an American flag being held by a woman in a bikini.
“Yo!” Jimmy says as he gets out of the truck. “Luke?”
I smile at him, waving. “Yo!” I echo. “Jimmy, this is Rider. Rider, Jimmy.”
Ryker nods at him. “Hey! Nice to meet you.”
Jimmy walks over to us with a small cooler and a pack I have since learned holds a camping chair. “Nice setup.”
“Thanks.” Ryker waits for Jimmy to get his chair out, then passes a beer to him. “We’re doing hot dogs for dinner. I can heat up rice, too.” I open my mouth to complain that we ate that yesterday, but before I can, Ryker says, “No complaining.”
I huff. Since I don’t think I can say anything without complaining or arguing, I don’t comment at all.
I narrow my eyes at Jimmy. How much would he struggle if I choked the life out of him?
Definitely too much for me to do it alone.
Besides, I want to see how Ryker handles himself when he’s given the chance to kill.
I’m here to learn, after all.
“Thanks! I brought some harder stuff, too.” Jimmy sits down and takes a long gulp of his beer. “Thanks for inviting me. Nature and solitude are nice, but I like talking to people out here too.”
“Yeah. You meet the most interesting people while traveling.” Ryker passes a hotdog skewer to me. I learned last night that I have to hold it near the fire and rotate it every so often. If I don’t rotate, the sausage gets black and burnt on one side while barely warm on the other.
I also learned that I don’t particularly like hot dogs, burnt, cold, or otherwise.
“You come out here a lot?” Jimmy asks. He takes the skewer Ryker hands him and sets up near the fire. “Got tips on what to see?”
Ryker sits down and starts cooking his own hot dog.
“Yeah. Have you been up to Falcon’s Head?
There’s a great view. About an hour north of here though, driving.
In terms of the hiking trails here, I like the Adelback trail.
It takes you past the river a few times, and there are great picnic spots there.
Good for photos. I’ve seen people kayaking in the river too. ”
Wait.
Are they actually going to talk about nature?
“Oh, yeah, I did Falcon’s Head last year. It’s gorgeous in fall. I ended up seeing a massive deer—”
I tune out the conversation, already bored, and study Jimmy.
Yeah, he’d look good in red, all cut up.
But then, I don’t think I want Ryker to cut someone else up. That was for me.
It gets darker and darker, to the point where when I look up at the sky, I can see a light smattering of stars through the trees.
“You don’t see stars in the cities,” Ryker had said.
Well, you don’t see toilets in nature, either, and I think I prefer toilets over stars.
There’s a small lull in the conversation, and I finish eating my second hot dog before asking, “What’s your job that makes you want to kill yourself?”
Jimmy laughs. “Man. I said that, didn’t I? I work at a warehouse. Stocking shelves, mostly.”
“Oh, where? I did work for one of those companies,” Ryker says. “The warehouse outside Traville, or—”
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Jimmy answers. “What kind of work?” He takes another swig of liquor, and I think he’s downed at least a quarter of the bottle by now. “You one of those corporate assholes?”
Ryker shakes his head. “Nah. I’m freelance. I mostly audit software and get a paycheck whether they implement my suggestions or not.”
That’s not what he told me, but I don’t really expect him to tell the truth to some random guy in the woods.
Of course, that means I also can’t expect him to have told the truth to me either.
That pisses me off.
“What about you?” Jimmy asks, nodding to me.
“What?” I ask. “You mean, what kind of work do I do?” I smile at him, though it’s brittle and unamused. “Social media, mostly.”
“Social media?” Jimmy shakes his head. “You’re not one of those, are you?”
“Those what?” I ask him. “An influencer? Sure, when I’m not busy with fundraisers and whatever.” I’m deliberately needling, baiting him, because I need a reaction.
And I need him gone so I can demand that Ryker tell me the truth about what he does.
“Don’t bring politics into this, Jimmy,” Ryker interrupts, shaking his head. “Luke’s job is his job. Who he grifts for his money is none of our concern.”
“Politics?” Jimmy takes another gulp from his bottle. “Who said anything about politics? I just want to know who I’m sharing drinks with.”
“I’m super boring,” I say. “I don’t go on nature walks, I don’t have a nine-to-five, I don’t have two-point-five children and a golden retriever at home.” I smile at him. “Do you?”
“Fuck.” Jimmy shakes his head. “I had a wife and son. Until the bitch took him out of state. Got some fucking paper that said I wasn’t even allowed to call.” He lifts his bottle and swishes it from side to side. “Why shouldn’t I get to enjoy a drink after work, huh?”
“Or a whole bottle?” I ask sweetly.
Ryker narrows his eyes at me, but he gets up. “All right, Jimmy. I think you need to get back to your own tent. I’ll drive you.”
Jimmy barks a laugh. “I can get back on my own. It’s not far.”
“Okay. But if you crash, nobody’s going to be able to help you,” Ryker says. He holds out his hand. “Give me your keys. I’ll drive you and Luke can…” He shakes his head. “Never mind, we’ll pick you up tomorrow morning so you can get your truck again.”
“I don’t need a taxi service,” Jimmy replies.
“Sure, just drive drunk off a cliff, then,” I tell him.
I want to shove him off a cliff.
I don’t think he’d even be hard to manhandle, as much alcohol as he’s been packing away since he got here. Or would it be harder, with him like dead weight?
Jimmy stands up from his chair, unsteady on his feet but taking a step in my direction anyway. “Who asked you, you little shit?” he snaps.
He’s slurring.
At this rate, I won’t need to murder him because he’ll off himself trying to get back to his own lot.
“Well, you said you wanted to kill yourself. This is a great way to do it,” I say, shrugging.
I stand up, too.
“You sound like my fucking bitch ex,” Jimmy says. This close, I can see how red his face is, and even his eyes are bloodshot.
“Stand down, Jimmy,” Ryker snaps. “Walk back to your tent, drive yourself, I don’t care, but back down now.”
The urge to continue to poke the hornet’s nest continues to gnaw at me, and I tell Jimmy, “This is probably why you can’t see your kid, you know. You did that to yourself.”
Jimmy lets out a loud howl and lunges for me.
It’s not even hard to dodge him. “Wow,” I say, taking several steps back. “Your poor ex-wife. No wonder she left you.”
Ryker gets between us and uses his arm to force Jimmy back. “Stand the fuck down, Jimmy. You need to walk away.”
“He shouldn’t walk away,” I say. “He’ll hurt himself.”
I can’t believe Ryker is trying so hard to get Jimmy to walk away. He’s a perfect target, a perfect victim. Why isn’t he pouncing on this opportunity?
“You shut the fuck up,” Ryker snarls at me. “I can see what you’re doing, and it’s not—”
“What is this?” Jimmy demands. He sways forward and tries to get past Ryker at me. “You in league with my ex? Is this why—”
Ryker grabs Jimmy’s arm and twists it behind his back. Jimmy cries out, but Ryker keeps a tight hold of him and starts leading him toward his truck. “Come on, Jimmy. I’m driving you back to your tent.”
Jimmy shakes his head and makes some incoherent sounds, but he’s too drunk to fight Ryker off.
“Ri—” I begin, but Ryker shoots me a murderous glare over his shoulder, and I wilt.
Fuck.
I watch sullenly as Ryker shoves Jimmy into the passenger side of the truck and drives away without another word to me.
That was such a wasted opportunity.
I go back to the fire and glare at it. Why is Ryker being like this?
It’s like he doesn’t even like killing.
It’s like maybe he isn’t even a killer after all.
He knows so much about me, but I know next to nothing about him. For all I know, he’s a plant from someone who had suspicions about me.
Well, if that’s the case, that ship has already sailed. I’ve admitted so much, too much.
Maybe I need to take care of him, too.
I go to my duffel bag, searching for the tablets I’d brought with me… but I can’t find them. No matter how much digging I do through the bag, they don’t turn up. Which means there’s no chance of drugging Ryker, and he’s too alert to catch off guard with a shovel.
Fuck.
After this, things are over.
I’m changing my locks and taking him off the guest list. I’m going to stop killing — even though the idea alone makes something inside of me howl in indignant rage — and I’m going to go back to living my life.
Even if Ryker seems perfect.
Seemed perfect.
I guess I should’ve known it was too good to be true.
I don’t know how long I lay there, staring into the darkness. A few times I check my phone to see if I have reception now, but the trees haven’t magically turned into giant signal enhancers. The most I can do is read an ebook I’d bought for review.