Chapter 22 Ryker
TWENTY-TWO
RYKER
Madison
Phil wants to do counseling.
I glare at the text.
Why is she telling me that? Am I supposed to care? Is it supposed to make me swoop in and convince her to divorce? Wasn’t our last conversation final enough?
Ryker
Good luck.
She sees the text almost immediately, but I get no response. Good.
Of course, once I close out of the texts, I’m back to staring at the news article about the latest strangling victim in New Bristol. There’s no proof, but my gut tells me it was him.
Fucking idiot.
I was right that he wouldn’t be able to keep it together. He’s going to get himself caught because of his need for validation or attention or whatever the reason he chooses to murder is.
Does he actually get off on it like he claims he does?
I wonder what it looks like when he’s pulling the rope tight around his victims, his skinny arms not strong enough to strangle with strength alone. Then when he’s done, he’d look to me for approval, eyes shining bright, and easily bend over when I ordered him to—
Shit.
I open the tracking app and find his location, somewhere near downtown New Bristol. I debate about five minutes, then give up.
I want to see him after all.
Two weeks, and I thought they’d go by quickly with work and everything, but the little idiot has been constantly on my mind. Even his refusal to go on the A.T. with me hadn’t done anything to quell my desire.
If anything, it makes me want to drag him along even more.
I get out of my car and make my way to the subway station. I watch the tracker the entire way to make sure Liam doesn’t end up moving too far away, but whatever he’s doing, it’s got him stuck there.
Normally he’d be at home. He doesn’t tend to leave his condo until much later in the day. Something dragged him out early, though.
Another man?
No, unlikely.
His friends, then, except they’re just as unlikely to want to do anything early in the day.
I get off the subway. The tracker leads me to a high-end restaurant, and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t even allow me inside with my leather jacket and slightly worn jeans.
I narrow my eyes at it.
That actually does look like a date venue.
Maybe I was wrong about him. Maybe Liam is finding relief while I’m away.
If he walks out with another man, I’m going to murder him.
…Figuratively? Literally? I’m not sure.
The other man definitely needs to die though, preferably in a river of his own blood.
The intensity of that thought surprises me.
What the fuck is this brat doing to me? Last I checked, I don’t have strong feelings about anything, yet here I am again, ready to throw caution to the wind to claim ownership over him.
After several minutes, Liam emerges, and he does walk out arm-in-arm with someone.
It’s a woman, and a much older woman at that.
I wonder if this is the grandmother he’d talked about?
He’s chatting animatedly with her, an easy smile on his lips.
Relief eases the bloodlust in me, and I start walking in their direction. I see the moment Liam notices me, his eyes widening and his lips parting. He waves at me, but he doesn’t release her arm.
“Rider! Hey, Rider! C’mere!” he calls out.
I give them my charming, business smile and approach. “Hi, Liam,” I say casually. “Funny running into you here.”
From the way he snorts, Liam knows better than to think this was by accident. “If I’d known you were in the neighborhood, I’d have invited you to dinner.” He glances at the older woman next to him.
She’s dressed in a floral blouse and a rose-colored skirt, and her hair is pulled back in a loose bun. She eyes me, giving me a once over.
“Gran, this is my friend Rider,” Liam says, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Rider, this is Esther Cohen, my grandmother.”
Esther smiles at me, but I can’t tell if it’s a genuine smile or not. “Nice to meet you, friend of Liam’s. How good of a friend are you?” she asks bluntly.
“Gran!” Liam exclaims, but he’s grinning. “That’s so rude.”
I smile back and extend my hand to her. “I don’t know. Would you like the safe for work version?”
She rolls her eyes, reminding me of Liam. “My poor old brain wouldn’t be able to handle the ‘not safe for work’ version.” She shakes my hand briefly.
“He’s a very good friend,” Liam says. “And no, he’s not Jewish.”
Esther pats his hand. “No one can be perfect,” she tells him. “How long have you been very good friends? You haven’t said a word about him.”
“Oh, not too long,” Liam says vaguely.
“Just a few months,” I say. “And I travel, so if we’re counting the hours… really, barely a week.” I get onto Liam’s other side, and he grabs my hand.
I’m torn between pulling my hand away and squeezing his tighter.
I really need to get over my in public hangups.
It’s more about somebody being able to remember me or recognize me, not because of latent homophobia.
A therapist probably wouldn’t agree with me, but a therapist probably also would have far more pressing concerns regarding my psyche than my attitude towards my own sexuality.
“He took me camping, Gran,” Liam says.
“And you survived?” Esther asks, her voice dry. “I commend you, Rider. I didn’t think it was possible to get Liam to do anything out in nature.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t do anything out in nature either, except watch it from afar,” Liam grumbles.
“Because I’m old, dear,” she retorts. “My poor bones wouldn’t be able to handle sleeping under the stars.”
It’s Liam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Don’t give me that bs,” he replies. “You’re in tip top shape, and you know it.”
“Liam was a trooper,” I say. “He even managed to survive the public showers.”
Liam shudders. “I’m still shocked I didn’t pick up some kind of disease.”
Esther’s lips twitch into a smile. “New experiences are good for you, bubeleh.”
“Only if they don’t kill me,” Liam says. “But fine, okay, it wasn’t that bad. I’m so glad you could meet! You’re my two favorite people.”
“Hmm.” Esther gives me another scrutinizing look.
His favorite person, huh.
I flash Esther a smile, but I wonder what that means, to be Liam’s favorite person. He didn’t list Maggie in there either, I notice.
I’ve already surpassed a friend he’s had since he was a child.
I squeeze Liam’s hand.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your day,” I say to them. “Sorry to have bothered you, Mrs. Cohen.”
“It wasn’t a bother at all. I enjoy meeting Liam’s friends,” she replies. “But I do have an event I’ll be late for if I don’t leave.” She leans in to kiss Liam’s cheek. “I’ll see you next week.”
Liam nods, letting go of my hand long enough to hug her. “Deal. Love you, Gran.”
“Love you too, bubeleh,” she replies. “Take care of him, Rider. I have a few tricks up my sleeve if you don’t.”
“No harm will come to Liam while I’m around,” I say easily.
No harm from anyone else, in any case.
“Good,” Esther says. She releases Liam, then turns and gets into a car that’s waiting nearby.
Liam returns to me, pressing up against my side. “I can’t tell if she liked you or not,” he says.
“I don’t think she did,” I answer. “But I guess that doesn’t matter to you.”
Liam considers that for a moment. “I don’t want her to dislike you,” he says. “I wouldn’t like it if she did. So I guess it does matter. She’s the only other person I look forward to seeing these days.”
“Not even Maggie?” I joke.
We keep walking, and I don’t know New Bristol well enough to know where we’re going. The city being itself, though, means that people bustle about. Nobody stares at us or even blinks at how close Liam is walking to me.
I could never do this at home.
This is why a lot of people move to the big city.
“Not really. She means well, I guess, but she keeps harping on you, and I don’t like it. She’s jealous, which… Whatever.” Liam shrugs. “I should care more, huh? I don’t know. People are weird.”
‘Should care more.’
Now there’s a sentiment I understand.
We enter the nearby park and start down the path along the river.
“My brother’s wife thinks she’s in love with me,” I say quietly. “She keeps asking me for permission to divorce. No matter how often I tell her I don’t care.”
Liam’s gaze snaps up to mine, and there’s something ugly in his expression. “Does she now?” he asks.
He obviously does not like that.
I squeeze his hand. “I’ve never been interested in women, ever. But she doesn’t know that.” I laugh cruelly. “She got knocked up when she slept with my brother in an attempt to make me jealous.”
Liam huffs. “That was just stupid all around, then. God, I’m glad I can’t get pregnant.”
“I’d have knocked you up already,” I point out with a grin. “Maybe I’d have to tie you up and keep you in bed to make sure you don’t hurt my baby by doing something stupid.”
“That sounds so boring,” he complains. “What would I even do? Sit around and watch Gran’s soap operas all day? Nope, hard pass.”
I tug sharply on his hand and pull him against my body. He gasps as I press my hand down on his stomach.
“You wouldn’t have a choice,” I growl against his ear. “You’d be there, and I’d fuck you and keep you full of my seed, and you’d be leaking with my cum while growing bigger and bigger with my child.”
Liam shudders. “Okay, that’s never been my kink, but when you put it that way… I’d be the worst father, though.” He laughs, though, and the sound is ugly. “Second worst.”
I nibble on his earlobe. “We can give the baby up for adoption. That way, I could fill you up again.”
I’ve never imagined a scenario like this before. By all rights, the idea shouldn’t turn me on.
But the image of Liam bound and helpless and completely, utterly mine?
Yeah.
I like that far too much.
He groans. “Never figured you the type to want to baby-trap someone,” he remarks, though the words are distracted, breathless.
“Well, unless you magically grow ovaries, I’m still not going to be the type,” I answer with a laugh.
I step away from him with some reluctance, but I do take his hand again so we can keep walking.
Is this what people call a date?