Chapter 5
Chapter Five
His mind was still churning.
Robbie was dead. Fuck it all . He knew better than to get too close to the people he took care of at the clinic. The streets were a tough, unsafe place to be, but he couldn’t help it. Especially not with the veterans.
Not when it cut so close to home.
“We’ll head to a few places that Robbie hung out,” Ryder said. “Track down his closest friends.”
She nodded and turned a corner. Unsurprisingly, she drove well, despite being new to the city. She had steady hands and didn’t get flustered. That seemed to apply to everything Siv did.
And hell if it wasn’t damned attractive.
At first, it had been her looks and confidence that had drawn him, but he was learning that there was a lot more to like about Siv Pedersen. Like the way she’d held him when he’d lost it over Robbie.
Tough and soft. A deadly combination wrapped up in a sexy body.
For a second, his brain conjured an image of her naked, under him, taking his cock.
Shit . He shifted to ease the pressure. Now was not the time.
“Ace is already working on finding similar cases at other clinics,” she said.
Ryder nodded. “I’ll make some calls as well, and talk to my colleagues.” His hand curled. Whoever the hell was responsible would pay. He’d make sure of it.
He gave Siv directions and she found a parking space near the first of Robbie’s hangouts.
They climbed out of the SUV. “I know you’re a badass, but stay close and do your best to avoid a confrontation.”
“I’m not a total newbie, Morgan,” she said.
“I know.” They headed down the cracked sidewalk.
There were tents ahead, lined up along a chain-link fence. Ryder stepped over a pile of trash and used needles. He clocked two guys with heavy ink standing in a shadowed doorway. They watched Ryder and Siv pass by with hard eyes.
“There’s an alley up here,” Ryder said. “Some of the homeless congregate there.” He turned into it.
The ripe stench of rotting trash and excrement hit them. He saw Siv wrinkle her nose, but that was it.
She’d probably been in some equally hellish places before.
Toward the back of the alley, beyond some large dumpsters, he saw several people huddled together. Some had tents set up, while others had canvas sheets and tarpaulins strung up as makeshift shelters.
The people all froze, eyeing Ryder and Siv with suspicion as they approached.
Ryder spotted a familiar face. “Hey, Bish. You all right?”
“Oh, hey, Ryder.” The older man limped over.
“Feet okay?” Ryder asked.
Bish shrugged, stroking his scraggly beard. “I still have two of them.”
But he wouldn’t if he didn’t take better care of his diabetes. “You taking those meds I gave you?”
“Sure, sure.” Bish sniffed and eyed Siv. “This your woman?”
Siv opened her mouth.
“Yeah.” Ryder slid an arm around her, ignoring her stiff body.
“You sure know how to show a girl a good time, Ryder. Should take her to a fancy restaurant or somethin’, not this fine establishment.” Bish cackled.
Ryder smiled. “She knows I’ll treat her right.” Their gazes met for a humming second, before he looked back at Bish. “Bish, I need to ask about Robbie.”
“That old coot must’ve hit a good thing, ’cause he ain’t been around.” There was a flash of quickly hidden hurt on Bish’s face. “He’s normally not gone this long.”
Fuck . Ryder closed his eyes for a second. “Bish, Robbie’s dead.”
The older man’s mouth opened, closed. He gave a strained laugh. “No way. Robbie’s too tough to croak. He even says that, that he’s like old boot leather.”
Ryder let out a breath. “His body was found in an alley off Eddy Street. I’m trying to find out what happened to him.”
The color drained from Bish’s weathered face. “Not Robbie.” The man swayed.
Siv beat Ryder, grabbing the older man’s arm. She helped him over to a dirty, rolled out sleeping bag. She didn’t hesitate to help Bish, despite his less-than-pleasant odor.
“Sit down,” she murmured. “Take it easy.”
“Robbie… Aw, hell.” Bish’s voice cracked. “He was the best of us. He helped so many people.”
Ryder crouched in front of Bish. “He had some side job. You know what it was? Who he was working for?”
Bish shook his head. “He had some cash. He gave me some when I needed food. He helped out some others, too.”
Of course, he had. That was typical Robbie.
“He said it was a good gig. Easy money.”
Ryder frowned. Doing what? He had to find out. “But you don’t know where, or who was paying him?”
Bish shook his head.
Damn . Ryder met Siv’s gaze. His frustration was echoed in her blue eyes.
“Wait.” Bish snapped his fingers. “He said Scratch was doing it with him.”
“Scratch?” Siv asked.
“Another vet,” Ryder said. “Young. He’s only been out a couple years. He lost some fingers in Afghanistan in an IED blast. He has some anger management and anxiety issues, and couldn’t keep down a job. He beat a guy up in a bar fight, then ended up on the street.”
Bish nodded. “Scratch might know.” Then the man’s shoulders sagged. “Poor Robbie.” Tears welled and Bish swiped his forearm across his face.
Ryder gripped the man’s shoulder. “He’ll be missed. But we’ll remember him.”
“Why Robbie? What the hell happened?” Bish looked bewildered.
Ryder squeezed again. “I’m going to find out, I promise. If someone is to blame, I’ll make sure we get justice for Robbie.”
Bish nodded. “Um, will there be a funeral or something? I’d like to pay my respects?”
“I’ll find out from Robbie’s family. They want to know what happened to him.”
“He said they were good people.” Bish sniffed. “They never gave up on him.”
“I’ll let you know, Bish.” Ryder rose. “You hear anything, come to the clinic and let me know.”
Ryder and Siv left the alley. He flexed his hands.
A deep anger was welling inside, tapping into deep reservoirs he kept well hidden. Ones where he’d stored all his past rage at what he’d seen, done, and coped with in the military.
Where the sorrow for the lives he hadn’t saved brewed and festered.
He took a deep breath. He thought all those feelings were gone, but he realized that they were just laying low and simmering.
“You all right?” Siv asked.
She was watching him like a bomb about to detonate.
“Not really.”
That’s when he saw three men heading down the sidewalk toward them.
They were all wearing jeans and stained T-shirts. One was heavily inked, while another was completely bald. The third man had shaggy, dark hair.
They were all big and broad, and their gazes were locked on Ryder and Siv.
“Trouble at twelve o’clock,” he murmured.
Siv shifted slightly, fiddling with her ponytail. She was good. She didn’t tense up or give away that she was looking at the men. Her gaze skated over them in a millisecond.
Then she looked back at Ryder, and hell, she had an excited glint in her eyes.
“You know how to fight, medicine man?”
He snorted.
She smiled. “I think we can handle this.”
And he was getting hard just imagining her taking care of things.
Now was not the time.
He loosened his shoulders as the gangbangers got closer. The one with the bald head looked jumpy, eyes bright. He was high on something.
Ryder narrowed his gaze.
This was just what he needed to dispel the tension riding him hard. He flexed his hands.
Bring it.
* * *
Siv turned and eyed the men. One was tall, with a shaved head, and his gut straining his T-shirt. Another one had tattoos up his arm and neck, and was shorter, but muscular. The last guy wasn’t big or small, and had a lot of shaggy hair.
They all looked mean.
“ Chica , I like the look of you.” Tattoo Guy grabbed his crotch, his gaze running over her.
Siv kept her face blank. “Sorry, Romeo, I can’t say the same about you.”
Shaggy Hair snickered, while Tattoo Guy scowled.
“I’m gonna mess up your pretty boy,” he spat.
“Pretty boy?” She raised a brow at Ryder. “Is he talking about you?”
Ryder shrugged a shoulder. If he was worried about the threat, he didn’t look it. “Can’t be,” he said. “I’m handsome, rugged, and chiseled.”
She snorted. “And modest.”
“Come on, you know you agree.”
She shook her head. “How do you walk around with that big head of yours?”
“ Hey .” Shaved Head looked confused and annoyed.
“Sorry, you three are used to people being frightened and intimidated, right?” Siv made a face. “I could try.”
Ryder nodded. “Let’s see.”
She kept her face blank and voice monotone. “Oh, please don’t hurt us.”
He shook his head sadly. “That’s lame.”
She shrugged. “I’m just not feeling it.”
“Bitch, we’re gonna mess you and your pretty boy up,” Shaggy Hair spat.
“And chica ,” Tattoo Guy drawled. “I’m gonna have a little fun with that smart mouth of yours.” He rubbed himself. “I bet you love sucking cock.”
Siv rolled her eyes. “Actually, I do.”
Beside her, Ryder groaned. “No sucking cock talk right now, please.”
She couldn’t stop a grin. “But I don’t like doing it with guys of dubious hygiene, and the way you keep scratching your crotch, you might want to get yourself checked.”
Their three accosters stared blankly for a second.
Then Tattoo Guy’s face twisted. He charged.
Siv lunged, swiveled, and elbowed the man in the face. His head snapped back. She landed a kick to his side, then punched him.
He let out a long groan.
She followed with two more quick jabs. Tattoo Guy collapsed in an ungainly pile on the concrete.
She straightened and stretched her neck.
Shaved Head bellowed, and he and his friend charged.
Ryder lunged in and attacked Shaved Head.
Siv had half a second to appreciate the fact that Ryder Morgan could totally fight, before Shaggy Hair attacked.
Her blood fizzed. She couldn’t deny that she liked a good, physical fight.
It got the blood pumping.
Shaggy Hair swung a fist and Siv ducked the man’s arm. She rammed her knee up into his gut.
He grunted and staggered back.
She smiled. “We having fun yet?” Her chop hit him in the throat, and he gagged and doubled over.
She flicked out her leg and caught his ankle. Her tug knocked his feet out from under him.
He hit the ground on his front and tried to get up, but she went down on one knee and landed another chop to his back.
He slumped.
She rose and saw Ryder watching her.
She stiffened. This was the moment when she’d see vague horror and discomfort on his face. The worry that maybe she could take him, emasculate him.
He stood with a boot on the back of a groaning Shaved Head. It looked like he’d had no trouble taking the guy down. He wasn’t even breathing heavily.
Ryder’s gaze met hers. He grinned, a distinctly heated look in his eyes.
Her heart thumped in her chest.
“That—” Ryder jerked his head at the man on the ground “—was hot.”
Who was this man? He was looking at her with a mixture of pride and lust on his face.
She pushed her own desire back and crouched. She took a handful of Shaggy’s hair and lifted his head up.
His face was already swelling a little, and he groaned.
“Who sent you?”
“Fuck… You.”
“No, that’s not going to happen.” She yanked on his hair until he yelped. “Who sent you?”
“Some guy offered us money to mess with anyone who came around asking questions about the dead, homeless guy.”
She shook him. “What guy offered you money?”
“Dunno,” he bit out. “Just a guy. In jeans. But he had really shiny teeth.”
So not another person off the street. Hmm .
She rose. “If I cross paths with you again, I won’t take it so easy on you.”
The guy made a gurgling sound.
Leaving the three men where they lay, she and Ryder headed back toward the SUV. She glanced ahead. They were right on the edge of Chinatown, and she saw red-colored signs for restaurants and red lanterns strung across the street.
“Who do you think sent them?” she asked.
“Someone with secrets they don’t want uncovered.”
There was darkness in his voice.
The heat of the fight was wearing off, and Siv saw the anger and sorrow were creeping back in. Ryder’s broad shoulders were tense, his mouth a flat line.
She hated how much this got to him. He gave so much of himself to the people he took care of.
“Want a drink?”
He glanced sideways at her.
She looked down the street. “You know a good bar around here?”
“Yeah.” A muscle ticked in his jaw.
They walked side-by-side a few blocks, and he led her to a small dive bar. A neon Budweiser sign blinked in the window.
They stepped through the door. Inside was nothing special. It was an ordinary, slightly seedy bar with red-painted walls, and a display of bottles behind a scarred, wooden bar.
The place was mostly empty, with a few patrons nursing their beers at booths at the far end.
Ryder and Siv snagged two stools at the bar.
“What do you want?” she asked him.
“Tequila.”
She raised a brow. “Roger that.”
She nodded at the pretty, curvy bartender. “A bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.”
The woman’s eyes widened, and she pushed a dark curl off her face. She glanced at Ryder with blatant appreciation, before reaching for the tequila.
Soon, the woman set the bottle and glasses down in front of them. Siv poured two shots and held a glass to Ryder.
“To Robbie,” she said.
He took it. “To Robbie.”
They knocked them back.
The alcohol burned a pleasant path down her throat.
Ryder slammed his glass down. “Again.”
Siv poured.
They shot again. Phew . It packed a punch.
Then Ryder set his glass down, reached out and dragged Siv’s stool closer to his. Their legs bumped and her pulse spiked.
“Morgan—”
“I know something that will hit the spot better than tequila, and leave less of a headache tomorrow.”
Damn that low, sexy voice of his. It was tempting, but she knew she should push away. But the dark emotion lurking in his eyes got to her.
And the insane urge to soothe him.
She gripped the front of his T-shirt, yanked him close, and kissed him.