Chapter 4 Ryder
Ryder
“Did you remember to get those little packets of jam she loves so much?” I asked Kane, eyeballing the box of pastries he’d been in charge of obtaining.
“Got twelve. Also added three of those muffins that make her moan,” Kane assured me, his gaze going to the extra-large iced latte in my hand. “The color is darker than normal. Are you sure they put in the right amount of milk?”
“I made them let me taste it before they added the cold foam. It’s exactly the way she likes it, man.” I’d watched them add the six full pumps of syrup, the extra shots of espresso, and exactly two inches of cold foam with caramel drizzle on top.
After the clusterfuck of the previous day, I wanted everything to be perfect when we saw our girl. Marrying Amadea and Raffaella today was a necessary part of the plan. It got us one step closer to getting the Bianchi family and Cullum out of our lives once and for all. But it felt like a betrayal.
Fuck, it was a betrayal to Vega. No matter how many times I tried to reason with myself, I knew it would cause her pain if she were to find out. It wouldn’t matter to her that Kane and I hadn’t consummated our marriages and never would. We said “I do” to women who weren’t her.
Sundays weren’t normally days we shared Vega. They were typically my one-on-one time with her. But as agitated as Kane had been during the low-key reception the night before, I had told him to pick up Vega’s favorite breakfast and meet me at her place.
Amadea had been upset that the wedding and reception weren’t as grand as she and her sister had hoped.
Aurelio had wanted a huge affair too, but Kane’s father had convinced him it needed to be smaller, more intimate, as a security precaution.
After a few dances, we cut the cake and then sent our new wives up to bed. Alone.
I’d taken a scalding shower and tried to call Vega again. Kane had knocked on my door an hour later with a bottle of good whiskey and two glasses. We’d spent a few hours making plans for the coming weeks and trying to make contact with our star, to no avail.
“Did she respond to any of your messages?” My gut twisted as the elevator ascended higher.
Vega hadn’t texted me in three days, and I hadn’t heard her voice in four.
I knew she’d worked an extra half shift Friday night, slept in one of the on-call rooms, and then worked her scheduled Saturday hours.
Of the handful of people on my payroll who worked with Vega, three of them had assured me she was fine.
Her neighbor, also one of my men, had sent me a text of her stepping into her apartment with a time stamp, letting me know she had gotten home safe and sound the night before.
Even when I’d first left the group home, we had spoken or texted every day. With everything else going on, not having any communication with my little star made me feel like I was going to crawl out of my skin.
“She’s just tired. Yesterday was rough for her,” Kane excused, but his brows were pulled together, telling me he didn’t fully believe it.
Not even when she picked up extra shifts did Vega allow more than twelve hours to pass before she checked in with one of us.
Hearing her voice was what helped get me through each day.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
One of my people said Vega had to deal with a sick kid who had an allergic reaction, and the kid almost died.
Death was part of every shift she worked.
She helped people through tough shit, from the first breaths of a newborn to the last breaths of a geriatric patient and everyone in between.
It was the kids who got to her, though, especially the ones who had negligent parents, because it brought up memories of her own childhood.
“This elevator is fucking ancient,” I complained, glaring at the lit panel that read off each floor as we reached them. “It would have been quicker to take the stairs.”
“A few more weeks and then she’s going to be home with us where she belongs,” Kane reminded me as the doors finally slid open.
“I’ve been counting the days.” Years of planning, making meticulous moves, and we could finally see the finish line. We were so damn close. Soon Cullum would be out of the picture, then Bianchi, and, finally, our wives.
Before Kane had fallen head-over-ass for Vega as I’d predicted, we’d originally planned to stay married to Amadea and Raffaella.
Ship them off to some tropical climate, give them each an allowance, and let them live their lives.
Once Kane was just as hooked on our beautiful star, he quickly decided that wouldn’t work for him.
There was no getting out of marrying Bianchi’s daughters, not without causing a war.
Annulment, however, was a different matter.
Once we had total control over Aurelio’s assets, had established our leadership in his territory, and then disposed of the dirty motherfucker, we would annul our marriages. It would be like they never happened.
As long as Vega didn’t find out, everything would be fine.
Stopping in front of Vega’s door, I used my key. As I stepped inside, I inhaled deeply, soaking in the peaceful scents that were my little star’s. Clean linen, a hint of vanilla, soft notes of her tropical body wash, and the lingering smell of good coffee.
On their own, each wasn’t overly remarkable, but together, they were home.
But as I walked into the living room, something felt off. Reflexively, my hand went beneath my coat, my fingers wrapping around my gun. Beside me, Kane did the same thing, the box in his hand landing on the floor between us as we quickly glanced around.
“Vay?” I called, setting the iced coffee on the kitchenette counter. No answer caused a pit to open in my stomach.
Gun drawn, Kane moved through the apartment with me covering him. “Vega, mo réiltín, are you in the shower?”
I couldn’t hear any running water. Fuck, I couldn’t hear much over the rapid rush of blood in my ears. Trying to control my breathing, I followed Kane into the bedroom.
“Vega, don’t scare me like this, baby. Where are you?” I called.
Our Alaskan king-sized bed was perfectly made, and the bathroom door was open, the bedroom light turned off. Flipping a switch to illuminate the space, I lowered my gun.
“Wilson didn’t let me know she left.” Replacing my gun in its holster, I pulled out my phone, checking for any missed messages or calls.
Wilson, a retired beat cop, lived across the hall.
I paid him generously to keep tabs on when Vega came and went.
I sent him a text, telling him to send me the recorded feed from his doorbell camera.
Gun at his side, Kane opened the closet door and just stood there, frozen. “Her clothes are gone.”
“What?” I choked out, not believing him. “No way. She wouldn’t…”
But there was nothing but a few hanging items and two pairs of shoes, red-bottomed heels that I’d given her years before when I’d first started earning good money. I’d wanted to spoil her, but she’d told me we needed to save as much as we could, so that maybe one day we could buy a house.
Maybe. One day.
Fuck, I could have bought her six houses anywhere she wanted back then, but I couldn’t tell her that. Vega had a moral compass that wouldn’t let her understand what I was doing was for the greater good in the long run. Our greater good. Our future together.
Looking at the bare closet had nausea rising in the back of my throat. Turning, I stormed into the bathroom, my hands shaking as I flipped the overhead switch. No shower supplies, no pretty little hand towel hanging, no toothbrush. Just a blue-capped…
Pregnancy test.
Knees feeling like they were made of jelly, I crossed to the sink and picked it up. Two pink lines.
My heart lifted into my throat, the world going dark around the edges as I held that piece of plastic.
Fear and love flooded my veins.
Vega was pregnant.
Our little star was having our baby.
And she wasn’t fucking here.
Kane appeared beside me, taking the test from my nerveless fingers, holding it like it was priceless. His chest was heaving, and his throat bobbed a few times as he tried to swallow.
“She left us.” My voice didn’t sound like my own. Pure, agonizing pain sliced through me. Vega had left us. She’d fucking left! There were no signs of a struggle. Her neighbor would have alerted me if something had happened. Which meant she’d gone on her own.
Without an explanation. Without a goddamn goodbye. Without one last “I love you.”
Just a positive pregnancy test left for us to find when we arrived.
Pain turned quickly to fury, something I had rarely felt toward my little star.
Why did she leave us? Vega might have been a runner when she was a foster kid, but that stopped when she got to the group home with me.
Her running had been because people were hurting her.
No one would believe her. The social workers would take the foster parents’ side and had labeled her as overdramatic.
That wasn’t my girl. She didn’t do random shit for attention.
This, the way she’d been no-contact for days, only to vanish on us, leaving that test for us to find instead—it was a statement.
“She knows,” Kane croaked out, his fingers clenching around the little piece of plastic.
Hearing it crack, he pressed it to his chest, his lips moving in a silent prayer before slipping the test into the pocket of his black slacks.
Jaw clenched, face gray, he looked destroyed.
“There’s no other reason for her to leave us, Ryder. Vega found out. She must have.”
“No. She doesn’t know anything. She can’t,” I denied, shaking my head and walking away. Out of the bathroom, past the memories that haunted me of making love to Vega in that bed, into the living room.
Vega lived a minimalist lifestyle. Only necessary and practical items allowed. Couch, TV, coffee table, her beloved coffeepot on the kitchenette counter.
Which was also missing.
Vega couldn’t know anything. Not yet, not when we were so close to having everything in place to get out of this life.
I’d never wanted her to know a single detail.
Kane was the one who thought we should tell her.
After, though. Not before, sure as fuck not during.
Ask—beg—forgiveness, then start over fresh in a warmer climate.
She’d promised to never do a name search on either Kane or me.
It was a very thin tightrope we’d walked, with only her vow not to go looking for information.
Ninety-eight percent of what was online about us was fake news that we’d fed the masses anyway, to make it look real to our fathers and Aurelio Bianchi.
But even though none of it was true, Vega wouldn’t know that.
She couldn’t know. Kane was always a little nervous about it, saying we should find a way to lock Vega’s access to anything linked to us.
But I hadn’t been worried. If she said she wouldn’t do something, I trusted her not to break her promise.
That was how close we were, how deep our bond was.
Even though Kane and I were the ones holding on to secrets and she shouldn’t have trusted us, I’d expected her to keep her promises. Double standard, definitely, but it was only to ensure her safety, damn it.
“She can’t fucking leave us!” I roared to the silent apartment.
Grabbing hold of the edge of the counter, I sucked in a harsh breath, my legs going weak. Tears blurring my vision, I called her for the twenty-seventh time that day, the six hundredth time since I’d last seen her.
It didn’t ring this time, didn’t click straight to voice mail. Instead, I heard an automated voice say, “The number you have reached is no longer in service.”
Gone. My star had left.
“Find her. We have—Christ, ah fuck.” Knees buckling, I dropped to the floor, a sob ripped from me. “We have to find her, Kane.”