Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
RYKER
T he very thought that those Nexus bastards might’ve snatched her right from under our noses sends a wave of fury through me. My fists clench so hard, my knuckles crack. My vision narrows, and I focus on the rage boiling inside.
Then an even worse scenario slams into me—another Alpha catching her scent, claiming what he has no goddamn right to. Bile burns the back of my throat.
“Fuck this. We’re wasting time here.”
Dane’s eyes meet mine, sharp with that soldier’s focus he never really sheds. “What do you suggest?”
“Split up. You take the outside. Look for tracks, anything.” My gaze shifts to Liam, his shoulders rigid like he’s prepared for shit to hit the fan. “Liam, you hit the security feeds, check for anything out of place.”
Dane heads to the open gate, peering at the bushes and road beyond.
“Ryker...” Liam trails off, but I’m already turning away, my mind a snarl of dark thoughts.
“Inside’s mine.” My declaration is final.
As I stalk through the mansion’s corridors, each room I check ratchets up the tension coiling inside me.
Where the hell could she be? The idea of her alone, possibly hurt or worse, claws at my gut.
“Kayla!” My throat feels like sandpaper, rough and raw. Each call unanswered stokes the fire of panic that I refuse to acknowledge.
“Damn it, Kayla,” I growl, knowing full well I’m ready to tear apart anyone who’s laid a finger on her. I don’t do vulnerable, don’t do scared, but for her, this unyielding urge to protect rears its head, fierce and uncompromising.
“Think, Ryker, think.” My boots are heavy against the polished floor.
The garage. I haven’t checked the fucking garage. With renewed purpose, I storm down the stairs, my pulse pounding in time with each step. If she’s not there, if?—
“Shut up, brain,” I snap aloud. Hope is a dangerous thing, and I’m not about to let it sink its teeth into me. Not now.
“Kayla!” My voice echoes through the cavernous space, filled with the scent of oil and metal—a comfort that’s always been mine. Now, it’s tainted with the sharp edge of dread. My gaze sweeps over the cars and the tools scattered across workbenches.
A cold sweat sticks to my spine, and the sickening churn in my gut is turning into a pounding headache that feels like it’s trying to split my skull open.
The clank of metal on metal sounds deeper in the garage and near my professional car jack station. My collection of bikes and cars gleam under the fluorescent lights, but their usual allure is lost on me now. I try to suck in a deep breath, but it’s like inhaling through a damn straw.
“Get it together, Ryker,” I growl to myself, but the edges of my vision blur, and a tremor racks my body.
The suffocating panic that’s been clawing at my insides eases for just a fraction when I spot her—Kayla, bent over the engine of my old Corvette, hands coated in grease, dark blonde hair falling like a curtain, hiding her focus.
“Fuck me sideways,” I mutter under my breath, the relief slamming into me so hard, I almost stagger. My fingers fly over the phone screen, texting Liam and Dane”
Found Kayla in the garage. She’s safe, and I’ve got her. Give us a few together to not spook her.
I pocket the device. Right now, I don’t want to share her with anyone.
“Didn’t peg you for a gearhead,” I say, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.
She doesn’t startle, just glances up with those ocean-deep eyes, the hint of a smirk on her lips. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Clearly,” I say, taking in her pink lips starkly contrasting against the grime that mars her face. “How’d you learn all this?”
“From my dad,” she replies, her voice softening, a shadow crossing her features. “He was good with cars. Taught me everything before he...” She trails off, pain flickering through her eyes.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” And I mean it.
“Thanks.” She wipes her hands on a rag. “Cancer’s a bitch, you know?”
“Yeah.” We’re in a bubble, everything but us fading to a dull roar. I lean closer, drawn by the shared understanding of loss, of being alone with nothing but ghosts and engines for company. I can tell this bothers her, thinking of her dad dying, so I change the subject.
“So… grease monkey, what’s your verdict?”
“I’ve replaced your spark plugs. Somewhat tricky to get to. And your transmission is shot. Oh, and I replaced your alternator belt.”
“Impressive,” I admit gruffly. There’s admiration there, mixed with something else—a warmth stirring in my chest, something that has no damn business being there.
“Guess we both have our surprises,” she says, a challenge in her tone that has my lips twitching into a grin.
“Guess so.” For a moment, just one damn moment, I’m not an Alpha standing guard over his Omega. I’m just a man talking cars with a woman who gets it, who gets me.
I’ll be damned if that isn’t the most dangerous thing of all.
Her gaze drifts over to my bikes.
“Ever ride one?” I ask.
“Nah. But I hear it’s like flying.”
“Better.” I trace my hand down the side of the car. “How about I take you for a ride?” The image of her body pressed against mine has my cock suddenly alert and hardening.
“Really?” Her eyes are bright.
“Tell you what, I’ll let you ride all of them, then tell me which one is your favorite bike. Then that one’s yours. I’ll teach you how to drive it.”
“Wow. That’s amazing.”
The buzz of my phone slices through the air, and I yank the device from my pocket. Liam’s name flashes on the screen, and I can’t help the gut twist telling me this ain’t a social call.
I hit the speaker button so Kayla can hear, too. “Talk to us.”
“Ryker, we’ve got trouble.” Liam’s voice is tight. “Nexus enforcers at the door. They’re demanding to see us. Now.”
“Fuck.” The word falls heavy, loaded with dread. I glance up to find Kayla’s face pale. Paler than it fucking should be for an Omega. My gut is fucking yelling that something is going on that she’s not told us.
“I’m on it.” I cut the call, shoving the phone back into my pocket. No way am I letting those bastards near her.
“Ryker?” Her scent spikes with fear. It claws at my insides, an instinct to protect roaring to life.
“Listen to me, Kayla,” I say, my voice low and steady despite the storm inside. “I won’t turn you over to them. You got that?”
She nods, but there’s a flicker of doubt in those deep blue eyes, like she’s heard promises before and watched them shatter. I don’t blame her for the skepticism. Words are cheap, but I’ll do everything in my power to prove her wrong.
Her lip trembles, teeth digging into that plush flesh like she’s trying to dam the flood of emotions. I step closer, close enough to feel the heat from her body. Everything in me wants to reassure her, but the truth is as sharp as the edge of a knife—I’m winging this. I have to think fast, be smarter than the bastards hunting her.
“Trust me, okay?” It’s almost a plea, and that doesn’t sit right in my gut. Alphas don’t plead. But fuck it, this is Kayla, and she’s under my skin, winding her way into parts of me I thought were long dead.
“Okay,” she whispers, and I catch the shimmer of trust in her gaze. It’s fragile, precious. A gift and a goddamn responsibility.
“Good.” There’s no time for more words. Nexus waits for no one, and every second counts. I need to hide her, shield her from the world outside that’s hell-bent on claiming her as a prize.
“Stay silent. Stay hidden. No matter what.”
“Don’t really have a choice, do I?” Her hand reaches out, brushing against mine—a fleeting touch that sears through my flesh. In that instant, I swear I’ll tear the world apart before I let them take her.
“Thank you, Ryker,” she says, and I nod curtly, turning away to hide the crack spreading through the armor around my heart.
“Time to raise some hell.” Let Nexus come. They’ll find nothing but smoke and mirrors here—and the wrath of an Alpha pushed too far.
I wrench open the false bottom of an old tool chest, revealing a narrow space just big enough for a person—if they don’t mind getting cozy with rusted metal and cobwebs. “In here,” I growl, not waiting for Kayla’s agreement. Her hesitation is a whisper of fabric before she slides into the compartment, hunkering down among the shadows.
She’s just small enough to fit.
“Keep your head down,” I instruct, my words stripped to their rawest edge.
She nods.
I place the rag she used along the corner of the chest, closing it enough so they won’t see her, but she’ll still get air.
“Let them in,” I bark into the phone, not bothering with niceties. Liam understands; there’s no room for pleasantries when our entire structure teeters on a knife-edge.
I won’t buckle or fucking break.
“Stay frosty,” I tell Liam before ending the call. My heart thunders like pistons in my chest, each beat a reminder that Kayla’s life hangs by a thread—and it’s wound tight around my fists.
I can’t leave her, not even as the sound of heavy boots draws closer. Nexus thugs. They think they can barge into my domain, demand answers, take what’s mine? Not on my goddamn watch.