Chapter 25
Ryker
Theo is the last one I pick up on the way. Eli’s already sitting stretched out in the front seat.
There’s no way I’m leaving this issue without sending an adequate response. Not when it comes to Ash.
With every passing moment, I’m becoming more protective and more possessive of her. And no one—literally no one in this world—will threaten what belongs to me. Especially with my woman.
Theo slams the door behind him harder than necessary. Rolling my eyes, sensing something is up, I pull away.
I glance at him in the rearview mirror. Without saying a word, I wait for him to tell me what’s going on. But he doesn’t.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “I’m having fucking déjà vu. Where the hell have you been, Theo?”
“I had something to take care of.” He snorts under his breath and glances out the window.
“I haven’t been able to reach you for almost two weeks. What did you have to take care of that kept you from calling or texting me back?”
His angry eyes find me in the mirror. “Do you always have to control everything? Do none of us have a right to privacy anymore? What the hell is this?”
Eli sits quietly. Inside, I start to boil.
“Is that what you think? That it’s about control? Let me remind you, we’re brothers. We’re one! Doesn’t that mean anything to you anymore? Because it means everything to me. And I’m worried about you.”
A tomb-like silence falls between us. All three of us sink into our own thoughts. And I let my words sink into him.
After a few minutes and a heavy sigh, he finally replies, “I’m sorry, man. I got carried away. It means everything to me too. It’s just—I don’t know. We’re all dealing with our own shit. I don’t want to worry you guys.”
“It’s not about control,” I repeat. “But I’m your brother. You can always count on me. I’ll always help you. Eventually, you’ll have to let us in.”
“I know, Ry.”
I sigh, hearing his uncertain, hushed voice.
Our exchange doesn’t calm me down at all. Now, I’m even more worried, even though I’m grateful that he’s alive and with us.
“I have news about Aisling,” Eli starts. “Although it doesn’t tell us much. We have a lead that she boarded a plane from Paris to New Orleans.”
All of a sudden, I regret being the one behind the wheel tonight. I care little about the street and what’s on it. Instead, all my attention is focused on his words. My eyes narrow and my heart races.
“Paris? What was she doing in Paris?” Staring at the passing surroundings, Theo asks the question that is also on my mind.
“How the fuck should I know?” Eli snaps.
I glance at the road before I add, “Better question: how did she get there with no money to her name? She must have had someone on her side. Someone was helping her. We don’t know who?”
“No, but you’re right that she couldn’t have gotten there on her own. It doesn’t make sense, because the most logical thing would be to hop on a plane in Madrid.”
Theo turns around. “She used commercial airlines? How do we even know that?”
“The birds told me. What do you think? Just as you say, she used commercial airlines. She used her own name too.”
Thoughts spin in my head. It really makes little sense. “Something doesn’t add up here. She’s an adult now and must realize how powerful James Elliot is. When was this?”
“Two months ago,” Eli replies.
“Exactly. Two months ago. She disappeared in Spain three years ago, only to board a commercial flight to the US two months ago using her own identity. Paperwork aside, she can’t be so naive as not to know her father would look for her. It’s a safe bet James is monitoring every damn airport.”
The car falls silent, and then Theo adds, “Unless she wanted him to know.”
I blink, trying to put the complete puzzle together in my head. “That’s possible. So what? You think she did it to throw him off and went the other way?”
He just shrugs. “I don’t know. We can only guess. One thing is certain: she wanted to send him a specific message.”
This news confirms she’s alive, or at least she was alive two months ago. It’s better than nothing.
The only annoying thing is that instead of finding answers, more questions arise.
There’s always one possibility that makes me break out in a cold sweat. Aisling could have fallen into James’s hands again. Father’s men could have been waiting for her at the New Orleans airport, and his advantage and threats are still valid.
Despite everything, I’m getting closer to her.
We arrive in silence. My thoughts return to the other woman in my life, the reason I’m here.
Before we get out, I glance at the boys. We all know what we have to do; it has already been decided.
A little later, pulling the mask over my face, I give Eli and Theo the signal to start. The mask itself is more for our amusement than to hide our identities, since I intend to reveal them anyway. Still, it’s like a role I slip into when I put it on.
“Let’s have some fun. Kill as many as you can.” My words are full of vengeance.
Standing to my right, Eli signals us to move with a wave of his hand. We’re three units acting as one.
It’s around four o’clock. Not too early for our target to still be up, and not too late for dawn to break.
Before we reach the house, we come across one of the security guards.
Theo, who’s closest, approaches him from behind and slits his throat with the flick of a knife.
He takes care of the right side of the house, and Eli takes care of the left.
I, on the other hand, am going to go in through the front door.
I’m prepared to have to break the lock, but there’s no need. A slight chuckle escapes me as the knob turns effortlessly in my grasp. That’s it. That’s how overconfidence ends.
“One down,” I hear Eli’s voice in my earpiece. Apparently, the guys are having more fun than I am.
I go inside and close the door without a sound. This is too easy.
My ears are on high alert, searching for any auditory clue – the soft tread of feet, the low hum of voices, or the faint drone of a television. There’s nothing. Utter silence. Not even a buzzing fly.
My head shakes in disapproval, even though these bastards are making my job easier.
Taking the route I know so well, I head upstairs.
“Another one down,” Theo brags, pride clear in his voice. The last thing I need is for the guys to compete over the number of kills, but I won’t take that fun away from them.
When I emerge from around the corner, I come face to face with a tall man. We look at each other at the same moment, and I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
Before he can make a sound, I lunge. He doesn’t even have time to draw his weapon before I grab his face. With all my force, I twist his head, and the silence is broken by the crunch of his spine snapping.
My ideal fun involves more dirt, mess, and blood, but this will suffice.
The bastard’s heavier than he looks, as I find out when his limp body falls. With a quiet motion, I took hold of him beneath his arms and laid him down on the floor. The carpet is greatly appreciated, as it helps to reduce noise even more.
After making sure no one else is nearby, I whisper to my brothers, “One for me too.” One of them chuckles, and I grit my teeth.
By the time I reach the double doors of the master bedroom, the boys have already taken care of six people.
Here, a lock awaits me, locked every single night without exception.
I know this all too well. At thirteen, I could already pick it, although I got a good beating for it at the time.
Since then, I’ve learned a lot, and now I can do it without leaving a trace, with the locks making only a slight click.
Pulling a toolkit out of my pocket, I get to work. Thirty-two seconds is exactly how long it takes before that distinctive sound rings out and the door swings open in front of me.
I put away my tools and take out my favorite knife. A knife that was specially ordered for my beloved father.
Quietly, I slip inside. Despite the darkness, I can see his figure lying still on the bed. I wait to see him reach for the weapon he always keeps under his pillow, but it doesn’t happen. Only darkness and his snoring fill James’s bedroom.
More than once, I’ve imagined this moment, sneaking in here and killing him without even a shred of regret. But this isn't that night.
I approach the right side of the bed where he’s lying on his back. His hand is under the pillow, and I can assume that point finger is resting on said gun.
James’s eyes only open when my blade is at his throat. Surprise flashes across his face, followed by anger.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the veins in his forearm tense up. “Ah. I wouldn’t do that. Pull your hand out and put the gun down.”
He blinks, recognizing my voice. Anger turns to rage and hatred. Didn’t he expect me?
He does as I say when I press the blade harder against his jugular. It’s tempting to pull it and see him bleed like the rest of us, except he deserves much, much more than a quick death. We both know that.
I’m sure he’ll try to knock the knife out of my hand, do something, but he obeys and puts his hand on the bedspread. He’s so fucking sure I won’t kill him.
Keeping my eyes fixed on him, I retrieve the gun from beneath the pillow. He probably has a few more hidden in this room, but I don’t care. Holding the handle, I grab my mask and lift it up to my forehead.
“Nice disguise,” my father growls. “I didn’t know it was Halloween already.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t accept your invitation?”
He smiles mischievously. “I didn’t think you’d come so late. I was sure you’d rush here as soon as you got my message.”
That photo is before me again, showing that scoundrel with his hands around Ash’s throat. My blood boils at the mere memory.
“Where can I find him?”
James knows perfectly well I want that fool who dared to lay a finger on my woman.
“Unfortunately, you’re too late. He bled out in the car before he’d driven a few blocks. I’m sorry he ruined your fun. By the way, how is Ash doing?”