Chapter Forty-Two - Ryder
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Ryder
I take it back.
I take it back.
I would rather live in a state of physical paralysis and mental nothingness than watch the scene in front of me play out.
The love of my life stabs herself in the stomach, catching everyone off guard—including Diaz, who stands in shock as she collapses to the ground. Moreno takes the shot as soon as Rachel is out of the line of fire, and the Diaz capo falls limply to the ground.
“Rachel!” I yell and disarm the wide-eyed soldier before I lodge a bullet from his own gun into his skull.
I speed past the fallen soldiers and Diaz to get to where my girl is lying on the concrete, hands at her side, the knife lodged just below her belly button.
“I’m—I’m okay,” she says on a shaky breath, but anguish contorts her delicate features.
“Kade is getting an ambulance here,” Moreno says as he rushes to kneel at her other side. He inspects the wound, then tears Diaz’s shirt off and uses it to apply pressure. “Keep her talking, Ryder.”
She blinks rapidly like she can’t figure out if she’s in a dream or reality, and her hands shake uncontrollably. I take one in mine, squeezing gently.
“Rachel, stay with me, okay?” I tell her. “Help is on the way.”
Her eyes meet mine, filling with tears again.
“F-for some reason, I didn’t think it’d hurt this bad,” she rasps, shaking with a laugh that quickly turns into a wince. “You said it wouldn’t do deadly damage.”
She repeats the words I said to her during one of our training sessions. Though it’s true, I’d meant it in relation to men—and only men.
Moreno briefly meets my eye, and I know he’s thinking the exact same thing.
Rachel very likely punctured her uterus, which can cause deadly bleeding.
My chest constricts, and pulling in the air takes more strength than it should at the mere prospect of watching Rachel bleed out here in front of me.
No. Please, no.
“Why did you do that?” I ask, unashamed, when my voice breaks on the last word.
She manages a wry smile. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“That’s not how this works. I protect you.”
“We protect each other.” That faint smile fades, and her eyes start to flutter.
“Hey, eyes on me, Rebel. You’re not going anywhere, okay? You’re stuck with me.”
“I was wrong,” she whispers, and the pain creasing her face shifts to an eerie peace that will haunt me until the day I die. “I-I thought a life without you was better than never coming first, but that isn’t true.”
I let her guide our joined hands to her lips, and she places a feeble kiss there.
“I would take the time we had—short as it was—over an-and over again before regretting a single second of our time together.”
I swallow hard, but the lump in my throat goes nowhere. “Don’t give me your goodbyes, Rachel. You’re staying right here with me.”
“Tell Lyla I love her,” she whispers, eyes glossing over and growing distant.
Droplets from my eyes hit her cheeks, rolling down like they’re her own.
“Please, Rebel. Don’t leave me. We said we were done leaving each other.” I practically choke on the words.
A small smile tilts her pale lips. “We never really left each other, Ryder. You know that.”
“That’s not enough for me!”
“I love you.”
I bite my tongue. If I say it back, that’s admitting this is goodbye, and this is not goodbye.
“Please, say it back,” she breathes, energy visibly draining from her.
I don’t want to. I really don’t want to.
But even now, I can’t deny her.
“Rachel, with all my heart and all that I am, I love you. I have loved you from the moment I met you, every moment you were with me, every moment we were apart, and I will spend the rest of my life loving you.”
Then I watch her breathing stop as sirens blare in the distance.
My elbows rest on my knees, and my entire body moves with the shaking of my leg—but I can’t sit still.
“You should wash up,” Moreno says from my side, where he’s been since we got to the hospital an hour ago.
We’re in a private room, one of the many perks of being the biggest donor of the hospital and paying off half the building to keep quiet about what they treat for us.
I look down at my hands, which are covered in blood. It’s morbid, I know, but the idea of washing it off feels a lot like washing her off, and I can’t do that.
I can’t lose her.
“I should go get an update,” I say, abruptly pushing to my feet and taking hold of the IV pole that’s currently shooting fluids and vitamins into my malnourished body.
Moreno grabs my arm. “It’s been less than five minutes since the nurse left,” he reminds me. “It’ll be a few more hours until she’s out of surgery.”
It feels like it’s been hours already.
“Go home, man.”
I rip my arm out of his hold. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“She won’t want to see you like this when she wakes up. You look awful.”
I glare at him. “I’d like to see how you fare after being drugged for a week.”
Still, I drop into my seat.
I hadn’t wanted to see a doctor, but Moreno didn’t give me a choice.
They said exactly what I expected—that I’m malnourished and overexerted.
The amounts of propofol in my system were walking the line of life-threatening had I been on it much longer.
The doctor said they’ll run tests to be sure but expect I’ll get back to full strength with little to no permanent damage.
I just hope the same can be said for my Rebel.
“How do you feel?”
“Exactly how I look,” I answer, and I swear I see him shake with a laugh out of the corner of my eye.
The door opens, and a nurse steps inside. I’m on my feet so fast the world spins, but she puts out a halting hand. “I have an update regarding Mr. Knox.”
Moreno stands, listening to the nurse tell him how Knox is in stable condition and should be ready for discharge in the next few hours.
His arm caught a bullet during the shoot-out, and it hit a vein that caused a lot of blood loss before Harris could get to him.
He was unconscious by the time the ambulance arrived, but his breathing never stopped.
Not like Rachel’s did.
Almost every responder needed to tend to Rachel, so I wasn’t permitted to ride in the ambulance and didn’t push to.
The more people helping her, the better.
To occupy my reeling mind on the drive to the hospital, Moreno and Donovan fill me in on everything I missed and the blank spots in my memory that haven’t returned yet.
They tell me how the perfect storm of events led to my disappearance not being discovered for a whole week, and I can’t even blame them for it.
If I’d gotten my head out of my ass, I never would’ve left Rachel’s side. I can’t say Mary wouldn’t have found a way, but I would’ve been noticed a hell of a lot sooner.
I’m also filled in on all Kade learned about Clayton Vance in the few minutes he dug into his past. Vance is a former soldier for the Consoli family who ran off when allegations of embezzlement came to light.
We still have no idea how he’s connected to Mary Anderson, but figuring it out is a top priority.
It’s assumed that he conducted the embezzling from our family through Mary, but we’ll know more after his interrogation—which I will happily be leading.
Something about that information nags in the back of my mind, and I can’t pinpoint why, but I feel like I’m forgetting something important. I did spend a week on drugs that screw with the mind in a million different ways, so I suppose that’s to be expected.
Kade, Donovan, and Harris are currently on damage control to keep today’s events out of the public eye.
Vance was found almost immediately by Briggs and is currently in custody at the Sacramento base.
Still, there was a lot of covering up to do since medical professionals showed up on a scene with several dead bodies.
Moreno should be with them, leading the clean-up efforts since his name has the most sway, but he doesn’t so much as glance at his phone. He just sits beside me in companionable silence once the nurse leaves.
“Why are you here?” I finally ask. It’s not like Moreno and me to beat around the bush. “Don’t you want to kill me?”
“Actually, no,” he answers, expression somber. “It’s the first time in a while that’s been the case. It’s kind of nice.”
I eye him, waiting for the snarky comment to follow, but it doesn’t. “What changed?”
His lip lifts in a small smile that’s more pained than amused. “You were abducted by someone you trusted.”
“Guess I deserved that.”
“No, you didn’t.” Moreno shakes his head. “That must’ve been hell.”
“Definitely wasn’t pleasant, but I wasn’t conscious for most of it.”
“I’m just glad we got to you in time. We wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Rachel.”
“You should’ve stopped her,” I tell him.
“Trust me, I tried. Even threatened to put a hit out on her.”
“You did what?” My hands shake with the desire to hit him just for thinking about hurting Rachel.
Moreno only shrugs. “Would’ve been deserved after she slapped me across the face.”
My eyes nearly burst out of their sockets.
I’ve never seen anyone lay a hand on Moreno and walk away alive. I suspect Elli could pull it off, but I’ve never seen it for myself.
“She wasn’t thinking straight,” I assure him, though I clearly wasn’t there to know. “It won’t ever—”
“I might’ve deserved it,” he admits with a dismissive wave and reads the question on my face before I ask it. “What you heard from Briggs at the gala, that was me on the phone with him.”
“But he was delivering a package.”
“An account of your whereabouts since you left Los Angeles. I had him keeping an eye on you to ensure loyalty.”
Any offense I might’ve taken doesn’t even register in light of everything else going on. “You thought I was still betraying the family?”
“No, but at least I would know what you were up to.”
I stare at him for a long moment, reading between the lines. “Joshua Moreno, did you have me trailed because you missed me?”
“I had you trailed because you abducted my fiancée,” he snaps with a lethal glare usually reserved for our enemies, then mumbles, “Bastard.”
I crack a smile, and he does, too.
An unspoken truce.
“As much as I dislike being ignored, even I have to admit there’s no way we would’ve found you in time without her.”
“It’s not worth it if she loses her life.”
It’s true. I’d rather be sold and gone than be without her.
Yes, we have Lyla, and for her, I will pick up the pieces of my life and give her everything I have. But without Rachel, there will always be a gaping hole in the core of who I am.
Joshua nods, and I’m sure he’s imagining Elli in the same place.
As if my thoughts conjure her, Moreno’s phone buzzes, and Elli’s name lights up his screen.
“How are things?”
I can’t hear her answer, but Moreno nods along to whatever it is.
“Still in surgery. Knox is going to be fine, too.”
He listens for another moment, eyes flicking to me.
“I think he’d like that,” Moreno says, holding out the phone to me.
I eye him but take it, bringing the device to my ear. “Hey, Elli. What’s—”
“Daddy?”
The sound of my daughter’s voice hits me square in the chest—stealing my breath and filling me with a peace that feels undeserved.
There was a moment on that airstrip when I had to accept that I’d never hear her voice again.
“Tiger,” I manage, sounding as emotional as I feel. “Sweetie, I miss you so much.”
She sniffles on the other end. “Where did you go?”
“Daddy had some business to take care of, but don’t worry. I’ll be home soon, okay?”
“Promise?” she asks in a shaky voice, like she’s on the brink of tears.
I am, too.
“I promise. I’ll be home, and I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon,” I tell her, imagining how holding her is exactly what I need right now.
“I love you, Daddy!” Lyla says, sounding much calmer now.
“I love you too, Tiger. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay!”
I hear her pass off the phone, and Elli’s voice comes through next. “She’s okay here. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Of course. I’m just so glad you’re safe.”
“You and me both,” I say with a weak laugh. “Are your brothers still coming into town?”
She pauses, and Moreno gives me a questioning look. “They’re on a flight now, but I was going to send them home once they got here since the worst of it’s over.”
“Don’t send them away. There are some things they’ll need to know.”
I hand the phone back to Moreno, who ends the call. “What’s that all about?”
“Later,” I tell him with a shake of my head, and he doesn’t push.
He clasps a hand on my shoulder. “Your family has your back. Whatever happens, I’m here for you.”
All I can manage is a nod.
It feels damn good to know my family is at my back—even if I’d give it all up to have Rachel at my side.