Chapter 19
KATHERINE
Rising from a foggy dream, I wake up reaching for warmth that isn’t there. My hand meets cold sheets, the space beside me untouched, already cooling like it’s been empty longer than it should be. Of course, he’s gone. He always does this.
I sit up slowly, the ache in my body a reminder that last night happened.
“Idiot,” I mutter to myself for being foolish enough to believe last night was different.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor biting into my feet, and press my palm to my sternum like I can physically push the feeling of abandonment down.
I should have known better. Ryder disappears.
He leaves rooftops, hotel rooms, and countries.
He just leaves. It’s his thing, and I should be used to it by now, but I am not.
Pulling one of his shirts around myself, I get to my feet and step out into the hall, deciding to check on the one man who’s guaranteed to always be by my side—at least until he stops depending on me to feed him. I check the room I left him in last night.
“Julian?” I call softly, opening the door only to find the crib empty.
Before I can overthink, I hear his giggles echoing from somewhere deeper in the house. I follow the sound down the wide corridor, past the open living area, and toward the back where the glass walls curve outward.
I’m met with the sight of Ryder crouched on the floor, shirtless, hair loose and falling into his eyes, one arm securely around Julian’s middle. My son is balanced against his chest, chubby legs kicking happily, his tiny hands buried in thick, dark fur.
Two massive dogs flank them, making me stop short. My body reacts before my brain does, every protective instinct screaming to life. “Ryder—“
He looks up immediately. “Kate.”
The steady and calm tone in his voice halts me mid-step.
“He’s fine,” he reassures, adjusting his hold on Julian. “I’ve got him.”
The dogs look up too—alert but relaxed. They are big and beautiful in a way that makes my stomach tighten.
Ryder gestures with his chin. “Rook. Ash.”
Julian squeals, grabbing at Rook’s ear with zero fear, laughing like this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Rook doesn’t even flinch, just leans closer, tail thumping slowly against the floor.
“I—“ My voice comes out thin. “They’re… really big.”
Ryder’s mouth twitches, but it’s not quite a smile. “They know how to be gentle.”
As if to prove the point, Ash lowers himself onto the floor, resting a massive head on his paws, eyes fixed on Julian with something almost reverent.
“You took him without waking me,” I scold, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.
Ryder studies me for a beat before replying. “You needed sleep.”
“You could’ve said something.”
“I didn’t want to wake you, and he was already up,” he simply explains.
There it is again—that careful distance. It’s not an apology or an explanation. Just… fact.
I nod, not trusting myself to say anything else yet, and watch as Ryder shifts Julian higher against his chest. Julian settles instantly, fingers curling into Ryder’s skin like that’s where they belong.
Something in my chest aches. I should be angry. I should be relieved. I should be preparing for the inevitable moment he pulls away again. Instead, I just stand there, barefoot and bare-hearted, watching the man who keeps leaving hold my son like he was always meant to.
Ryder stands first, shifting Julian carefully until he’s balanced on one hip, then nods toward the kitchen like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You hungry?”
I blink at the question, surprised by how normal it sounds coming from him. “Uh. Yes. I think so.”
“Good.”
That’s all he says as he turns and walks toward the kitchen, dogs trailing behind him like shadows, Julian babbling happily against his chest. I follow, because what else do I do?
The kitchen is all steel and stone and glass—immaculate but lived in. Ryder moves through it with ease, pulling things from the fridge, setting Julian down in a high chair I hadn’t noticed before. I have no idea where he got it from, but I’m not about to question him.
He pours coffee for me without asking. Black. One sugar.
I stare at the mug when he slides it across the counter. “You remembered.”
His shoulders lift in a small shrug, and that’s all the response I get from him. I wrap my hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth, for the grounding weight of it. Julian bangs his hands on the tray, demanding attention.
Ryder turns immediately. “I know, I know,” he murmurs, softer now. “You’re starving.”
He moves with a careful efficiency—warming food, testing the temperature on his wrist before feeding Julian. Thank God Julian is on solid food now. Otherwise, with my truck stuck halfway up the mountain, my milk wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him.
Watching Ryder being so patient with Julian feels intimate in a way that makes my chest ache. This is what scares me. Not the danger outside these walls, the men hunting us, or the uncertainty of tomorrow. It’s this. The quiet in these almost-normal moments.
We eat in relative silence. It’s not exactly awkward, more like heavy. Every clink of cutlery feels loud, every glance loaded with things neither of us is ready to unpack.
Julian babbles happily between bites, blissfully unaware that his existence has cracked Ryder’s world wide open.
I clear my throat. “Thank you. For… this.”
Ryder looks up from where he’s wiping Julian’s hands. “For breakfast?”
“For everything. For not freaking out. For… trying.”
His jaw tightens, just a fraction. “I’m not good at this.”
“I know.”
“But I’m not walking away,” he adds. “Not from him.”
The words land carefully, like he’s tested their weight before letting them out. I nod, choosing not to ask the question burning on my tongue. Not yet. We both know what it is, and neither of us is ready for the answer.
“I don’t expect you to suddenly become…” I gesture vaguely. “Dad of the year.”
A corner of his mouth lifts. “Good.”
“But,” I continue, “I appreciate that you’re here. That you’re trying to make space for us.”
He studies me for a long moment, eyes dark and unreadable. Then he nods once. “We’ll talk later. When it’s safe.”
He said later, not never. I’ll take it.
“I need to go down the mountain,” he speaks up after a beat. “To get your car and some supplies.”
“I should come with you to—“
“No.” He cuts in gently but firmly. “It’s best if you stay here with Julian, where it’s safe. I’ll take Rook. Ash stays.”
“Okay.” I nod without arguing further.
We finish breakfast uneventfully, and I watch from the glass wall as he leaves, Rook at his side in the passenger seat of his truck, disappearing down the long, winding path that snakes away from the house. Julian squirms in his chair, and I lift him into my arms, pressing my lips to his hair.
“We’re okay,” I whisper to him, even as uncertainty hums just beneath my skin. “For now.”
With Ryder gone, the house exhales. That’s the only way I can describe the way the space seems to settle into itself once the low, steady gravity of him leaves.
I kiss Julian’s temple and shift him higher on my hip. “Come on, let’s see where Daddy hides all his secrets.”
The word slips out before I can stop it, but I don’t take it back. And so Julian and I wander around. I didn’t get to look around well enough yesterday, and with nothing better to do, I can look all I want.
We step outside onto the wide deck, the air crisp and clean, carrying the faintest hint of spice.
The scent of cinnamon makes me smile despite myself.
That’s the only touch of Christmas around here.
Just like I expected, Ryder hates the holidays, seeing as there’s not a single light or decoration in his fortress.
Movement catches my eye, and I follow it past the railing. The horses stand a short distance away, grazing calmly, their coats gleaming in the morning light. I don’t trust them since they look wild, so we observe them from a safe distance.
When it gets too cold to keep standing here, we head back into the house for more snooping.
Three hours later, the sound of an engine breaks the quiet. Ryder’s back! I carry Julian back outside just as his truck comes into view first, then mine behind it, dusty and unmistakable.
Ryder parks, steps out, and immediately scans the area, eyes finding me and Julian without hesitation. Only then does his posture ease. He opens the back of my car, unloading bags—clothes, supplies, and more diapers than I thought one man would think to buy.
“You went shopping,” I note.
“For essentials,” he replies. Then, after a beat, “And contingencies.”
Something warm and grateful spreads through my chest. “Thank you.”
He meets my gaze, something unspoken passing between us, before Julian lets out a tired whine, reminding us both of the fragile little center holding this strange truce together.
“I took the liberty of charging your phone,” Ryder says, handing it to me.
“Thanks.” I smile, switching it on.
The moment it does, I’m flooded with a barrage of messages and missed calls, most of them from my mom and a few from coworkers.
I lied to my mom and told her that I was leaving LA for work, but she must be worried since I’ve been out of contact for a few days. I make a mental note to call her later.
I scroll through all messages and calls, but there are none from my best friend.
I haven’t talked to Addison in a week, and I’m really worried, but I’ve been doing my best not to let it show.
Julian doesn’t need that kind of energy hovering over him, and Ryder doesn’t need one more variable to calculate.
But worry has a way of leaking through the cracks, no matter how tightly you try to contain it.
“Say the word, and I’ll find her for you,” Ryder speaks up next to me.
“Am I that obvious?” I whisper, finally letting my shoulders sag.
“I’m good at reading people either way.”
“It’s just that it’s been a week and she hasn’t called. She always calls, even when things are bad. Especially… when things are bad.”
That’s all Ryder needs. “I’ll find her,” he decrees.
After carrying everything into the house, he heads directly to the secure workstation built into the far wall.
Screens light up under his hands, data flowing faster than my brain can keep up with.
Satellite connections, secure channels, and encrypted systems that don’t exist in any world I recognize.
Watching him work is… unsettling. Not because he looks dangerous, though he does, but because he looks comfortable. Like this is where he belongs. Like the chaos of the world bends to his will when he decides it’s time.
Julian fusses softly, sensing the shift in tension. I bounce him gently, whispering nonsense into his hair. Ryder glances up briefly, eyes softening at the sight, before returning to the task at hand.
I watch Ryder call a dozen different people, get transferred all over, before he finally turns one of the screens on his desk my way just as Addison’s face appears—grainy but unmistakable, eyes tired and fierce all at once.
“Kate,” she breathes.
Relief crashes through me so hard I nearly sit down. “Oh my God.”
“You okay?” she asks, scanning me, before her eyes land on Julian and her gaze softens. “There’s my godson.”
“I’m fine, he’s fine. We’re safe,” I assure her.
She smiles, small but real. “You look like hell.”
I laugh, something hysterical and broken spilling out of me. “You disappeared.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t be sorry. Are you okay? How bad is it?” I inquire, scared of the answer.
Addison exhales, dragging a hand down her face. “We’re stuck,” she answers bluntly. “They shut down the airspace two days ago. No commercial flights, no charters, nothing. Every plane that tries gets shot at before it clears the runway.”
My stomach drops.
“They’re grounding everything,” she continues. “The militants are everywhere now—roadblocks, patrols, men with guns who don’t bother pretending anymore. Every hour, it gets worse. They’re not just angry, Kate. They’re organized.”
Ryder steps closer to the screen. “Sea?”
Addison lets out a sharp laugh. “Pirates. It’s a mess out there. Anyone with a boat is either armed or already dead. No one’s taking chances.”
She looks straight at me then, eyes fierce even through the distortion. “This isn’t like last time when it was just background danger. This is active retaliation. Hassan Barre is making an example out of anyone who was in that room.”
Ryder’s fingers move fast across the console. “I’ll get you out by land, through Kenya. I’ll send coordinates and contacts.”
Addison’s shoulders sag with relief she doesn’t bother hiding. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Her gaze flicks between us. “Things are collapsing fast, so you two need to be ready. This doesn’t stop with Somalia.” She draws in a breath, about to say something else. “I was only able to find you because—“
Before she can finish explaining, the screen stutters, then goes black. Ryder tries getting her back to no avail.
“I don’t like the sound of that. If the way she found you is not through credible sources, then…” I whisper.
He turns to me, eyes dark. “Then others can too.”
Fuck.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he decrees, looking at me, then at Julian. “Either of you.”
“I know.” I smile even though deep down I’m freaking out.
Suddenly, the mountain feels smaller. Less like a refuge, and more like a battleground waiting to be claimed.