Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
T he next morning, Ryder sipped his coffee, whistling to himself.
It was sunny, but the air felt cooler. The fall was making itself felt.
He strode down the street, nodding to Mrs. Kwan in the doorway of her restaurant. She gave him a wave.
His mind was full of Siv Pedersen.
Hot, tough, sexy Siv.
He’d drifted off to sleep the night before, thinking about her. The way she sounded when she came, the way she’d clenched on his fingers.
Hell . He needed to get a lock on this vicious need. He had shit to do, starting with asking a few more questions around the neighborhood.
If he could, he’d find Scratch again. Ask about the drug and the Fosters. Check that he was okay.
Ryder planned to visit a few places around the Tenderloin, then he’d drop by the Norcross Security office with some blueberry buns. He fished his phone out of his jeans and tapped out a message.
I hope you slept well.
Siv didn’t make him wait long.
I did.
Ah, his woman of few words.
Any word from Ace?
He’s combing through what little data was at the lab, and going through the Foster’s properties. No secret lab…yet. He’s on his second coffee and cursing a lot.
If there’s anything to find, he’ll find it. So, what are you wearing?
Are you really that clichéd?
When it comes to you, yes.
His phone dinged. It was a picture of a pant-clad leg and a high-heel boot.
Ooh, a sexy pantsuit. He added a heart-eyes emoji.
Morgan, it doesn’t take much with you.
My Norwegian flower, with you, it requires you to just be breathing.
He could almost see her eye roll from where he stood.
Where are you?
Heading out to find Scratch and ask a few more questions. Want to join me?
Can’t. I need to help Ace, or he might stop my phone from working or something. Be careful.
Aww, you’re worried about me. I’ll see you later.
He slid the phone away and finished his coffee.
Right . Time to find some answers.
Ace and Siv were working to find out if the Fosters had a working lab somewhere else. Ryder would find out once and for all if Robbie had been taking Trelaskin.
Ryder stopped by a few haunts. He checked in with a few familiar faces he knew. No one had seen Scratch.
He ended up at the Hot Zone. He spotted a woman who came into the clinic sporadically. Annie had a big mix of mental health issues.
“Hi, Annie.”
She wouldn’t make eye contact with him, and her hands fluttered. “Oh. Ryder from the clinic. Hi, Ryder.”
He sat down, but left a large gap so he didn’t make her nervous. “That’s right.” He kept his tone gentle, non-threatening. “How have you been?”
“Good. Good. I found lots of food lately.”
“Glad to hear it.” As always, he felt sorry for her. He wished things were different. As far as he knew, her family had disowned her. “If you need anything, you can drop by the clinic.”
She dipped her head shyly. “Thanks.”
“Hey, have you seen Scratch?”
Her shy smile vanished and her fingers twisted. She was clearly upset. “Nope. No. No Scratch.” She looked at the ground.
“I’m your friend, Annie. And I’m Scratch’s friend. I’m trying to help him.”
She lowered her voice. “He was real scared. He felt sick.”
Shit . Ryder should’ve walked Scratch to the clinic himself.
“People are looking for him,” Annie whispered. “He was scared.”
“Who’s after him?”
“I don’t know.” She twisted her fingers, rocking a little. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, Annie.” Crap, Ryder hoped someone hadn’t hurt Scratch. “What about Robbie, Annie?”
“Robbie’s gone. I don’t want him to be gone. He gave me candy. He stopped people hurting me.”
Robbie had left a hole in so many lives. “I know. I miss him, too. You know what he was doing before he died?”
Her rocking increased.
Crap . Ryder straightened. Did she know something? “Annie. You could help me find the people who hurt Robbie.”
She made a sound. “I saw him with some people.”
“Okay.”
“Fancy men.”
“Fancy? You mean they were clean and wearing nice clothes?”
She nodded. “Suits.”
“His brother—”
“No, no. Different. Big. Bigger than you.” She held her arms up like a bodybuilder.
“Muscular guys.” Someone’s muscle. “Was anyone else with them?”
She bit her nails. They were dirty and bleeding.
“Annie? Was there another man with them?”
“No. A woman. She got out of the fancy car. She looked mad at Robbie.”
Ryder’s pulse spiked. “A woman.”
“In a dress. Fancy. Brown hair pulled up fancy.”
“Hang on—” He pulled his phone out.
“I have to go.” Annie rose, fidgeting.
“Annie, was this the fancy woman?” He held up a picture of the Fosters with some other tech entrepreneurs.
Annie’s nose wrinkled. “Fancy.” She nodded and tapped on Caroline. “That’s the fancy lady.”
Elation shot through him. A link . A link to Caroline Foster, who’d been talking to Robbie.
“I have to go.” Annie hurriedly gathered her shopping bags filled with various things and dumped them into a shopping cart. “Scratch was scared of the fancy people. Be careful, Ryder from the clinic.”
“Thanks, Annie. And if you see Scratch, tell him to come to the clinic.”
Annie hurried off, pushing the cart.
Ryder left the encampment and texted Siv.
Woman on the street saw Robbie talking with two guys in suits and Caroline Foster.
His phone vibrated.
You’re sure?
Annie picked Caroline out of the photo.
Good! We’re right on track, Morgan.
I’m on my way to Norcross. I want to see that pantsuit.
You’d like what I’m wearing under it even more.
He grinned. She was flirting with him.
Now I’m hard.
You’re so easy.
See you soon. I expect a hello kiss.
We’ll see.
That’s not a no.
Ryder turned the corner, and spotted two thugs waiting for him. It was Tattoo Guy and Shaggy Hair.
Ryder straightened. “You back for more?”
“You’re all alone, asshole. And asking questions our employer doesn’t want asked.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Ryder bit out. “And I can handle you two with my eyes closed.”
Tattoo Guy grinned. “Ah, but we aren’t alone.” He looked past Ryder.
Ryder glanced back over his shoulder. Three big guys moved in. They looked mean and ready for a fight.
Oh, fuck.
He braced. Across the street, some people saw the impending fight brewing and scuffled away. No one would help in the Tenderloin.
One man lunged. Ryder swiveled and grabbed the guy. He swung the guy around and slammed him into a second guy.
The third man charged, and Ryder kicked him in the gut.
A punch landed in Ryder’s lower back and pain rocketed through him. He gritted his teeth.
His focus narrowed to the fight. It was all fierce punches, kicks, and groans.
A punch hit his jaw and he tasted blood.
Tattoo Guy and Shaggy Hair rushed him together, and he tried to block, but several punches landed. One hit his stomach.
Pain exploded and he realized that the asshole was wearing brass knuckles.
Fucking hell.
Ryder fought back, but the next blow knocked him to his knees. Kicks followed, pain drowning him.
He heard shouts, but a kick hit his head and he slumped to the concrete.
His body was just a throb of horrible pain.
More shouts.
He saw boots running away, but everything was dimming.
Then his vision turned black.
* * *
Where the hell was Ryder? He should’ve reached the office by now.
Siv watched Ace working at his computer. She blew out a breath. Memories of what she and Ryder had done on the hood of his fancy car kept playing through her head. Her own X-rated movie. She’d come so hard.
She’d come hard again in her own bed, touching herself and wishing Ryder had been there.
She heard Ace bite out some words in Portuguese, which had to be curses. She shook her head to clear it and stalked over to his chair.
“What’s wrong?”
“Someone’s digging hard on yours and Ryder’s aliases.” The tech man swiveled. “They’re picking Ryan Moore and Stella Peters apart.”
She cursed.
“I’m keeping one step ahead of them for now.” Ace lifted his tablet and tapped. “Time to give the big man an update.”
A few minutes later, Vander appeared in the doorway.
“Sit rep?” His rugged face was blank, focused.
“Either Ryder and I set off alarm bells, or the Fosters really dig deep on the potential investors,” she said.
“Most of the focus has been on Moore and Peter’s ‘businesses.’”
“They’re most interested in the money,” Vander said.
Ace nodded. “Looks like it.” He tapped the keyboard. “I did find this.”
It was a picture of a guy standing on a sidewalk, smoking a cigarette.
“One of the Fosters’ security team. He’s an ex-Army Ranger and he’s standing outside the fake address of Moore and Peters.”
Vander cursed.
Siv’s muscles tightened. “He’s waiting for us to come home. Ryder and I need to make an appearance as the happy couple.”
“Yes. If they can check off the boxes, hopefully they’ll quit digging,” Ace said. “I’ll spread the word that you guys have been in Napa, looking to buy a vineyard.”
“Oh yes, I like buying vineyards,” Siv said. “The wine tastes so much better when you own it.”
The men laughed.
“Who owns the property you used as their home address?” Vander asked.
“It’s one of your investment apartments,” Ace said. “In Nob Hill.”
Vander swiveled. “Siv, you and Ryder need to stay there for a couple of nights. Sell Moore and Peters as a couple.”
Great . She dragged in a breath. “Sure.” She frowned. “Ryder was supposed to be here by now. I’ll give him a call.” She pulled out her cell phone and found his number.
The phone rang and rang. What the hell was he doing?
Then the call connected.
“Hey, where are you?” she asked.
There was no reply.
She frowned. “Ryder?”
Then she heard raspy, pained breathing.
Her pulse spiked. “Ryder, what’s wrong? Talk to me? Are you all right?”
She sensed Vander and Ace’s attention sharpen.
“Ryder?”
The line went dead.
“ Faen !” she cursed, her pulse going haywire.
“Siv?” Vander barked.
“Ace, track Ryder’s phone.” She swallowed, her mouth dry and her chest tight. “He didn’t talk, but he sounded in pain.”
“Fuck,” Vander said.
Ace’s fingers were flying. “Give me a sec. He has a Norcross cell phone with a tracker in it.” A map flashed up on the screen. “ There .”
She eyed it. The glowing dot was in the Tenderloin.
Vander’s jaw tightened. “An alley. I’m coming with you.”
Unsurprisingly, Vander claimed the driver’s seat of the X6.
Siv’s hands clenched into fists as Vander sped toward the Tenderloin. Be okay, Morgan. Please be okay.
If he was badly hurt, or worse…
No . Siv couldn’t imagine a world without Ryder Morgan’s sexy smile and charm in it.
He’d be fine. He had to be.
Vander broke the speed limits where he could, and finally screeched to a halt on a dirty street in the Tenderloin.
Before the SUV was fully stopped, Siv flung the door open. She saw a crowd of homeless people in the alley.
No . She sprinted over.
“Hey, that’s Ryder’s woman,” someone muttered.
She thought she recognized a few faces.
When the tense crowd backed up, looking wary, she knew Vander was behind her.
That’s when she saw Ryder sprawled on the ground.
Her heart hit her ribs.
A man with an unkempt beard was crouched beside him. Bish .
She raced over. “Ryder.”
He was lying facedown. Vander crouched beside her, and they rolled him onto his side.
“Some guys jumped him.” Bish’s voice trembled. “Big guys. Five of them. Had metal knuckles on their hands.”
God . If they’d beaten him, he could have internal injuries. She saw several dirty footprints on Ryder’s shirt and rage welled.
They’d kicked him.
She checked his pulse and found it beating strongly. Thank God . She cupped his jaw. There was blood at the corner of his mouth and swelling around one eye.
“Ryder?”
His eyes opened, swimming in pain. “There’s my Norwegian angel.”
Vander snorted. “He sounds okay.”
Siv ripped his shirt open and sucked in a breath. Bruises were forming all over his torso.
“What happened?” she asked.
A couple of homeless people pushed forward. “Some gangbangers cornered him,” a black woman said. “He hurt a few of them real good. They had to carry two of ‘em out of here.”
Siv probed and Ryder grunted.
“But there were five of them,” Bish continued. “We rushed in, yelling, to scare ’em off Ryder.”
“Thanks, Bish,” Ryder croaked. “Thanks, all of you.”
“You’re too pretty to let someone mess up that face,” a woman called out.
Ryder grinned, but when it pulled his lip, he grimaced. “Help me up?”
Vander and Siv got him sitting upright. She saw he was trying to hide his pain.
And she was having trouble hiding just how churned up she was that he’d been hurt.
“Was it those guys from before?” she asked.
“Yeah, but they brought some friends.”
“I’ll bring the SUV around.” Vander jogged off.
Siv touched Ryder’s shoulder, because she needed the contact. “We’ll get you to the hospital—”
“No. I don’t need the hospital.”
“Morgan, don’t be a macho idiot. You could have internal bleeding—”
He cupped her cheek. “Worried about me, Siv?”
She was. “No matter how annoying you are, I don’t want you dying.”
“Not going to die. And I’m not being macho. I’m a combat medic and I can assess my injuries. I’m bruised to hell, but I’m not bleeding internally. I just need some painkillers and an ice pack or three.”
She pressed her lips together.
He rubbed a thumb over her skin. “I promise.”
“Well, you’re going to have to rest and recuperate at Stella Moore and Ryan Peters’ love nest.”
His brows drew together. “Huh?”
“The Fosters are poking around our aliases. We need to make an appearance at ‘our’ place.”
“Shit. They have someone watching?”
She nodded.
The X6 pulled up at the mouth of the alley.
She helped Ryder to his feet, taking some of his weight.
“Looks like you’re going to be stuck with me as your nurse,” she said.
“The day’s looking up.”