Chapter 29
SLOANE
I stepped back into his house with my pulse still sprinting, the night air clinging to my skin as if it didn’t want to let me go.
Ryker shut the door behind me, then turned the deadbolt with a firm click that sounded less like safety and more like a cell door closing.
“Mine,” he growled.
I shouldn’t have liked the way that single sound settled something inside my chest, but I did.
He didn’t touch me right away. He just stood there, blocking the entry, his eyes raking over me as if he was checking for any indication I might try to leave again.
The porch light spilled in through the sidelight window, catching the hard cut of his cheekbone.
He looked as if he hadn’t exhaled in years and was finally deciding whether he could.
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m not,” I lied automatically.
The tremor betrayed me.
Ryker stepped closer. Not rushed. Not gentle, either. Controlled. Like he’d already decided what tonight was.
“You don’t get to be brave in my house. Not after someone put blood on your wall.”
The word blood made my shoulders tense, and he must’ve seen it because his jaw flexed.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I lifted my gaze to his, and the way his focus pinned me in place did something hot and stupid to my insides.
I wasn’t used to being told what to do. I was even less used to wanting to obey.
“Good.” He said it like I’d passed a test. Then he lifted his hand, slow, deliberate, and he brushed his knuckles under my chin, tilting my face so he could see every inch of me.
It wasn’t tenderness. It was possession wearing a calm voice.
His hand slid from my chin to my throat, resting there, warm and heavy, a reminder that he could.
I resisted a shudder.
His thumb moved, barely a stroke over my pulse. “Still racing.”
My voice came out quiet. “So is yours.”
For the first time tonight, a ghost of a smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. It vanished just as fast.
“That’s because I’m thinking about how many ways that I can make the son of a bitch who did this to you regret being alive.”
A chill skated down my spine, followed by heat. This time I didn’t hate how my body responded to him.
Ryker leaned in, close enough that his breath warmed my mouth when he spoke. “And I’m thinking about you,” he added, like it cost him. “Walking away from me in that hallway a few minutes ago. Taking my air with you.”
My chest squeezed so hard it ached. “I was trying to keep you safe.”
He released a half laugh. “You don’t keep me safe. You keep yourself alive.”
His hand slid down from my neck to my collarbone, caught the edge of my jacket, and tugged enough to bring me a step closer. I went without hesitation.
Ryker’s eyes cut into mine. The way he looked at me was like he could see the exact moment my body chose him.
“There she is.” His other hand found the small of my back, and I was being guided. Claimed without a single loud move.
“Ryker—”
He didn’t stop walking. He led me down the hall, the house dim and quiet around us.
He opened a door at the end of the hall to his bedroom. The darkness inside swallowed the light from the hallway in a way that made my nerves tighten. He didn’t turn on the overhead, but a lamp, low and warm, like he wanted shadows on purpose.
Ryker stepped in first, scanning the corners as if he couldn’t help it. Like safety was a habit carved into his bones. Then he looked back at me, one hand braced on the doorframe.
“Come here.” It wasn’t a request.
I crossed the threshold, and the air changed. It smelled like him—clean soap and something darker underneath, something that didn’t belong in the daylight. The bed was made with military precision with a blanket folded at the foot.
Ryker shut the door behind me. He stood there for a beat, staring at me as if he was deciding whether to devour me or protect me, and maybe in his mind those were the same thing.
“You walked out,” he said softly.
I swallowed. “I came back.”
“Because I chased you.”
My cheeks heated. “Because you asked me to stay.”
Ryker focused on my mouth. When he looked back up, his expression had changed.
Darker. Possessive in a way that made my pulse hammer and my stomach flip.
“I don’t normally ask for something I want. I take it.”
The words should’ve scared me. They did, but they also lit something in me I didn’t want to name.
Ryker stepped forward slowly, closing the distance until my back brushed the edge of the dresser. His hand came up and planted beside my hip, caging me without actually touching me.
“Tonight,” he murmured, “someone tried to remind you what you are.”
The pulse in my wrist stuttered.
He leaned closer, his voice lowering to something that felt like a secret and a threat at the same time. “I’m going to remind you what you are to me.”
My skin tightened everywhere his gaze touched.
“Ryker …” I nipped at his lower lip.
He finally touched me. His fingers slid to my chin, tilting my head back, and he kissed me as if he’d been starving, and I’d been the only thing he’d allowed himself to want. It wasn’t sweet. It was controlled violence wrapped in restraint, every inch of him held back by sheer force of will..
My hands found his shirt, fisting it, and I felt the truth of him under my palms. The muscle, heat, tension, the barely leashed animal.
Ryker broke the kiss, his forehead pressing to mine.
I could hardly think. “Don’t let me go.”
His breath shuddered out of him, and the sound was the only warning I got before his hands slid to my waist and he turned us with one smooth movement until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed.
And the look he gave me then—dark, possessive, unflinching—told me exactly what kind of man he was in the bedroom.
Not gentle. Not safe. And for the first time in a while, I didn’t run from the shadow.
I let it reach for me.
My knees hit the mattress, and the bed dipped, stealing my balance for half a second.
Ryker didn’t let me fall. His hands stayed on my waist as though he’d decided the world didn’t get to touch me without going through him first. The lamp threw shadows across him, sharpening everything about him that was already dangerous.
He stared down at me as if he was memorizing the shape of my obedience.
I hated how much I wanted that look to stay.
“Look at you.” He gripped my chin, and his other thumb pressed into my hip.
My fingers tightened on his shirt. I could feel the tension in his body, the restraint. Like he was holding a line that could snap if I gave him one wrong word.
He looked at my hands. “Let go,” he ordered.
My reflex was to resist, but my body betrayed me instead. I loosened my grip.
Ryker caught my wrists and lifted them, pinning them firmly above my head against the headboard. The move was so smooth, so practiced, it stole my breath.
Every nerve in my arms lit up as I looked at him.
His mouth covered mine again, and this kiss wasn’t hunger, it was possession. Slow, controlling, punishing in the way it made my head spin.
He broke it and hovered close, his nose grazing mine. “You keep trying to sacrifice yourself.”
My chest rose and fell too fast. “I’m trying to keep people alive.”
“And I’m telling you.” Each word was deliberate. “That you don’t get to do that alone. You want to protect Nate. You’ve been doing it so long you don’t know how to stop. Even when the target moves to you.” Ryker’s mouth pressed to my neck. “I’m not your cold case.”
I closed my eyes. “I know.”
“With Nate, you’ve been holding your heart in your hands for almost three years. Let me help you breathe.”
That landed like a punch.
My eyes snapped open. “Don’t—”
“Don’t what? Say it.”
My voice came out thin. “Don’t talk about him like you know what it feels like to lose someone.”
Ryker went still. The kind of still that meant he’d been cut in a place that hadn’t healed.
His jaw flexed once, and his gaze dropped as if he couldn’t help it.
“I do.”
Two words. A confession I doubted he offered often.
I stared up at him, my chest tight, the heat between us turning sharp-edged.
“Ryker … What else happened to you?”
His eyes lifted back to mine, and the darkness in them gutted me. “Not tonight.”
The words weren’t dismissive. They were loaded as if he was holding something back with both hands.
“Okay.” I agreed, even though my heart wanted to pry it open.
His grip on my wrists shifted again right before he released me. The sudden freedom made my arms tingle.
I sat up, shaky, and Ryker stepped back a pace as if he was giving me space without letting me leave.
He ran a hand through his hair, attention on me, as if taking in the way I was still on his bed.
“Stay.”
The word hit harder than any threat.
“I am.”
Ryker moved to the door, checked the lock with one decisive turn, then the window latch. A habit. He did it fast, like using muscle memory.
Then he came back to me.
“I don’t care who told you to get close. I don’t care what game they think they’re playing.”
He stopped in front of me, close enough that my knees brushed his thighs. “They wanted you near me?” His mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Fine.”
My insides turned to liquid.
“Because if they’re watching. I want them to see exactly what they woke up.”
Heat traveled through me.
Ryker slid his hand to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, controlling the angle of my face as if he was setting the terms.
“You’re mine. I will always protect what’s mine.” The promise was brutal in its certainty.
My breath caught. He’d said it before. Outside. Almost gently. This time it landed like a vow carved in stone.
He stared at me, unblinking.
Simple.
Final.
My heart stuttered.
And when he kissed me again it didn’t feel like falling this time. It felt like stepping into what I’d been fighting since the bunker.
It fucking terrified me because it was real.
Ryker’s mouth left my lips, and he pressed his forehead to mine.
I swallowed, sliding my hands up his chest, steadying myself on him as if he was the only solid thing left.
His eyes closed for half a second.
Then he opened them again, dark and intent.
And the way his hands settled on me—sure, possessive—told me exactly where the night was about to go.
I didn’t stop him.
I leaned in.
And I let the monster keep me safe.