Chapter 35
SLOANE
Ryker drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my thigh, firm and possessive. He didn’t have to say anything else. I’d had more time to process the information, but seeing the files had hit him hard.
The rabbit photos and the second list were stamped into my brain. Thirty-seven names. Thirty-seven marks. A goddamn pattern that didn’t care if I believed in it. It existed anyway. Even more, Hamilton Archer’s name sat at the center of it, quiet and poisonous.
Ryker didn’t mention him on the drive. The tension in his shoulders did the talking. So did the way his fingers tightened every time we stopped at a light.
As we crossed into downtown Portland, traffic thickened, and the sky turned into a grid of glass and steel. Ryker didn’t slow until the building came into view, all clean lines and reflective windows, the kind of place that required a code and a key fob.
He pulled into the underground garage. The elevator ride up was silent. No music. No small talk. Just the soft hum of cables and the steady pressure of his fingers intertwined with mine.
The doors opened to a private landing. One door. A camera in the corner that tracked us as we approached.
Butterflies fluttered in the pit of my stomach. I shouldn’t be nervous, but I was. I’d walked into many dangerous situations in my life and had been less nervous, but these were Ryker’s friends. His found family. I wanted their approval.
The brief interaction with Ella earlier had been pleasant enough. She seemed attentive and highly intelligent, but I didn’t expect any different from the people who were in Ryker’s life. This dinner with them was important to me, and even if Ryker didn’t say it out loud, it was to him too.
Ryker glanced at me, then back to the door. He knocked once.
The door opened almost immediately.
Ella stood there smiling, hair pulled back, wearing a simple sweater and jeans that made her look normal enough to be anyone’s neighbor.
But her eyes were sharp. Quiet. The kind that missed nothing.
“Sloane,” she said warmly. “You made it.”
I returned the smile. “Thanks for inviting us.”
Ella stepped forward and hugged me. She smelled clean, of faint vanilla, and something herbal I couldn’t place. Her arms tightened for one beat, then released me.
Sebastian appeared behind her, taller than I’d expected, broad-shouldered, calm. His gaze landed on Ryker first, then slid to me with a steady focus.
He smiled. Not wide. Not forced, but real enough to matter.
“Sloane, I’m Sebastian.”
I shook his hand. His grip was firm, the kind that said he was used to being in control without proving it.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I offered him a friendly smile.
“Come in,” Ella motioned us inside. “And don’t mind the security. Sebastian insists. He’s very protective of his family.”
Sebastian winked at her. “You love me more for it.”
Ella kissed him on the cheek. “More than you’ll ever know.”
We stepped inside, and Ryker led me to the back of the penthouse. The view hit me first. Downtown Portland spread beneath the windows, headlights threading through streets, the river a dark ribbon cutting the city in half. The penthouse was warm in a way most expensive homes weren’t.
“It all looks so different from up here. It’s a nice step away from the chaos.” A hint of relief threaded his tone. He looked down at me and then placed a kiss on my forehead. “I’m glad you’re here.”
His words caught me off guard. He usually didn’t express his thoughts much unless it was to boss me around in the bedroom. I gave him a heartfelt smile. “Where else would I be, Ryker? These are your people. They’re a part of you.”
He slid his hand up my back, and I leaned into him, appreciating the view and the solitude before all the questions started.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Ella asked from behind us.
I turned to her. “Your home is gorgeous with or without the view, but this is stunning. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“Of course.” Ella led us toward the kitchen. “I’m doing something easy. Pasta. Salad. Garlic bread. No one judge me.”
Ryker’s hand found the small of my back as we moved. Sebastian walked beside us, not crowding, not distancing either.
We reached the kitchen island. A bottle of wine sat open. Two glasses already poured. A second bottle chilled in a bucket off to the side.
Ella pointed to two chairs at the table. “Sit. Both of you.”
I sat.
Ryker leaned a hip against the counter instead of taking the other chair. His posture said he was present, but not as relaxed as a few moments ago.
Sebastian opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, setting it in front of Ryker.
Ryker looked at it.
Sebastian’s tone stayed casual. “Drink some. You look wound tight, mate.”
Ryker stared at him for half a second, then twisted the cap.
Ella glanced between us, then smiled at me. “So,” she said, “how did you two meet?”
The question was normal. Friendly. It still made my pulse jump. We hadn’t talked about what we would tell them if I came up. We were too focused on the rabbit trail.
Ryker looked at me. Not a warning. A check.
I held his gaze and didn’t blink.
Sebastian watched us both, quiet and patient, letting the answer tell him what he needed to know.
Ryker cleared his throat. “Paintball.”
Ella paused mid-stir. “Paintball?”
Ryker nodded, his face blank. “It was a game outside the city.”
I fought the urge to laugh, because the lie was so clean it almost sounded real. The Ritual was not something you explained over garlic bread.
“That’s …” Ella’s mouth curved at the corner. “Unexpected.”
“It was messy,” Ryker added.
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed slightly, then his mouth twitched, as if he understood exactly what kind of messy Ryker meant.
“And you?” Ella asked me. “You … went paintballing alone?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t do well with boredom. And I like a challenge.”
“I could see that.” Ella sounded amused. “And you recognized him from a previous game, or you met him there?”
How did I explain it? Fate. Death. A man I held a piece of when he was gone.
I assumed the reason I was here was for them to see if I was good enough for their friend, so I figured honesty was the best answer. “I met him there. But I knew who he was.”
Ella’s brows lifted. “Oh?” She stirred the pasta and waited for my answer.
Ryker’s hand settled on my shoulder, subtly. Anchoring.
Memories of that night flashed through my mind. “I was with him when he died. I was the one who called 9-1-1.”
A quiet attention snapped into place.
Sebastian’s gaze held mine. Ella’s smile faded into something softer.
Ryker didn’t look at me. He looked out the window, his shoulders set.
Ella spoke first. “That’s … a lot.”
“It is,” I admitted. “I didn’t expect to ever see him again. I didn’t think he’d …”
Sebastian turned to Ryker. “He’s a fighter.”
Ryker’s answer was quiet. “Something like that.”
Ella set the spoon down and walked over to the table. “Thank you.” Her voice was full of pain and regret. “Thank you for saving him.” Tears welled in her eyes.
A hush fell over the room. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to him sooner.” I hadn’t expected the conversation to turn serious so damn quickly.
Ryker gave my shoulder a little squeeze. Forgiveness maybe?
Sebastian dragged in a breath. “The important thing is that we’re all here now.”
“Agreed.” Ella approached Ryker and gave him a quick hug.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s not to take the people you care about for granted.” Sebastian looked at Ella, something in his expression I couldn’t read.
Ella tensed briefly, then she forced herself to relax. “Maybe someday I’ll share that story with you, Sloane.”
The hair on the back of my neck rose. Her voice told me that whatever the story was, it wasn’t good. It had turned her and Sebastian inside out. I didn’t want to pry and ask Ryker later, but I was definitely curious.
Ella redirected the conversation. “So, what happened after paintball?”
I could appreciate that skill. I’d had to use it most of my life. I kept my voice steady. “We kept running into each other.”
Ella’s mouth curved again, but it wasn’t playful now. It was knowing. “Portland is big.”
“It is,” I said. “That’s what makes it worse.”
Sebastian huffed a single breath that might have been a laugh. “All right. I’ll accept that answer for now.”
Ella clapped her hands once. “Okay, dinner soon. But first, wine or no wine?”
“Wine,” I said.
Ella poured me a glass and slid it across the island. “Good. It’s always nice to chat over a glass or two.”
Ryker’s mouth tightened. He took a drink of water instead.
Sebastian leaned on the island and folded his arms over his chest. His tone stayed easy, but his shoulders shifted. “Sloane, what do you do?”
The question was normal too, but I still hated it.
“I was a detective,” I said.
Ella’s brows shot up. “Was?”
“I’m not anymore,” I said simply. No explanation. Not yet.
Sebastian didn’t push. He nodded, as if filing it away. I suspected that he knew already from his low-key reaction.
“And you?” I wasn’t going to sit here and be the only one under the microscope.
Ella smiled. “I run a few things.”
That was not an answer.
Sebastian’s mouth twitched again. “She runs a lot.”
Ella laughed. “Don’t oversell me.”
“I own a bar and restaurant with my mate, The Velvet Vortex. Ella helps me as well. Have you heard of it?” Sebastian asked.
“Oh yeah. I love it there.” I left out the part that it was where I’d seen Ryker and his tattoo for the first time. Ryker hadn’t mentioned that his friends owned the place.
Ella returned to the stove, stirring.
Sebastian shifted his weight, then looked at me again. “Ryker said you saw something that you shouldn’t have.”