Chapter 2 Ryder
CHAPTER TWO
Ryder
The Hollow's quiet now, after the last orders, after the music’s stopped and the drunken laughter has faded. The flicker of the neon sign still pulses weakly against the dark, and the place is empty.
Good.
I walk through the door, boots heavy against the worn floorboards, and I do what I always do when I step into a space that’s mine: I scan. Every corner. Every shadow. Every inch. The bar’s clean, but I’m not just looking for spilled drinks. I’m looking for danger.
This place isn’t just a bar. It’s my stake in the ground. It’s a new beginning. The last thing I need is for anyone to think otherwise. I didn't come here to get cozy; I came to get control. The Hollow is a foothold, a place to rebuild.
But it’s not just about me, not just about making money or getting some quiet life.
I brought Finn and Zane here too. They’re my family.
My responsibility. I don’t take that lightly.
This town’s supposed to be a fresh start, but the past?
It doesn’t die that easy. The ghosts are always lurking, just waiting for me to slip.
Coyote Glen feels so far away from that danger though, it’s easy to forget sometimes.
This small town… it’s one of those quaint postcard-type places. The sort of place where nothing bad happens. It’s perfect for us, as long as we can keep it safe.
My phone rings, slicing through the stillness. I pull it from my pocket and press it to my ear, not bothering with pleasantries.
“Rhea, hey.”
“Ryder.”
I can tell by her tone that this won’t be good news. Rhea and I have been in one another’s lives for as long as I can recall. I can almost read her damn mind. A late-night call like this… yeah, it’s no good.
“Talk to me.”
“Cole Varga’s sniffing around,” she says immediately, her words clipped. “Asking about you.”
I curse under my breath, the name hitting me as a punch to the gut. Cole Varga. That’s the last person I wanted to hear about tonight.
“Any specifics?” I ask, my grip on the phone tightening.
“Nothing solid yet,” she replies. “He’s asking around. It’s like he knows where you are. I’m not sure how, but I’m keeping an eye on him.”
I let out a slow breath, trying to calm myself. Cole was part of the club once, but that was before he turned his back on us. He’s a shadow from my past, and I should’ve known it wouldn’t stay buried.
“I need you to keep him busy,” I tell her. “Don’t let him dig too deep. Let me know if he makes a move.”
“You know he doesn’t stop digging until he finds something,” she says, her tone hardening, but there’s concern behind it. “Just be careful, Ryder. You know how he works. He won’t stop until he gets to you.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “I know. I’ve dealt with worse.”
There’s a long pause, just the sound of her breathing on the other end. Then she speaks again, softer now.
“Just keep your head on straight, okay? I don’t need to remind you what he’s capable of.”
I don’t need to be reminded. I know exactly what Cole can do when he’s backed into a corner. But I’m not about to let him take control. Not this time.
“Just keep me posted, Rhea,” I say calmly, no sign of the tension clawing at me. “I’ll handle it from here.”
She sighs, but I can hear the respect in her voice as she responds. “Got it. I’ll keep an eye on him. See you whenever I can make it to town.”
I end the call and slide the phone back into my pocket. The quiet in the bar feels different now. I stand there, taking it all in. The distant creak of the floorboards, the smell of spilled beer still hanging in the air.
I won’t let Cole destroy this. Not the club. Not the Hollow. And not me.
I stand still, letting everything settle. Coyote Glen doesn’t scream trouble, but the truth is, trouble can sneak up anywhere. I’ve lived long enough to know that.
The quiet is almost suffocating. It feels wrong, about to break, and I don’t enjoy the feeling of it. I run a hand over my jaw and walk over to the shelves behind the bar. I’ve got work to do.
First, I start restocking. Bottles of bourbon, tequila, and gin—what the bar needs.
I set the bottles in place, feeling the familiar weight in my palms. This is what I can control.
This is mine. The cold glass, the burn of alcohol against my skin.
Each bottle is a step closer to locking out the past.
The fridge hums in the background, but it’s the sound of my own movements that keeps the unease at bay. The thump of boots against the floor as I make my way around, trying to adjust to this new space.
The door creaks open, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance up to see Finn striding in with that grin of his. He’s just run into the sun and caught it in his hands.
“Yo, boss,” he calls out, loud enough that it fills the room. “Place looks like a ghost town in here.”
I grab a bottle of whiskey and twist the cap off, then start filling a glass, letting the silence hang. I don’t have time for small talk. Not when there’s a target on my back, and I can feel it.
He comes around the bar, flopping onto the stool next to me, kicking his boots up on the rail with a carefree smile.
“Everything okay?” he asks, eyeing me, picking up on something.
I don’t want to talk about it yet. I’m still trying to shake off the conversation with Rhea, trying to focus on the task at hand.
“Just got some business to handle,” I mutter, not looking at him.
Finn shrugs, takes a deep breath, then grabs a napkin, wiping his face dramatically as if the bar’s silence is affecting him too. He knows when to leave me alone and when not to.
“So, tonight has been interesting for me too.”
My eyes snap up. “What do you mean?”
Finn leans back, his eyes twinkling with mischief, his grin widening.
"I met this new girl tonight," he says, as if it's no big deal, but I can tell by the way his eyes shift that there's more to the story. "Sweet thing. Looks like she doesn't belong in a place like this, but that’s part of the fun, right? Our new start and everything."
My gut tightens. I don’t enjoy the sound of it. I don’t enjoy anything about this.
We’re supposed to be laying low here, creating a quiet life.
Finn’s shrugs. “She’s just passing through, but she’s got that vibe. You know, the kind that pulls you in and makes you want to protect her. And I don’t even know her yet, but I already get the feeling that her story is a hell of a lot heavier than she lets on.”
I feel the familiar flare of instinct run through me. It’s a sharp, almost physical pull in my chest, something that’s telling me to stay alert. Sweet girls get hurt in our world.
I don’t want to know where this is going.
I set the glass down with a soft thud, leaning forward a bit, my jaw tight. “What do you mean by ‘heavier’?”
My voice comes out rougher than I intend, but Finn doesn’t seem to notice. He’s lost in the thought, his grin gone, replaced by that look, the one that says he’s half tempted to dig deeper than he should.
“You know,” Finn continues. “I could feel it. She didn’t say much, but she didn’t have to.
It’s in the way she moves, the way her eyes dart around like she’s expecting something bad to happen at any second.
” He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal, but I can tell he’s intrigued.
“And I don’t know… she just clicked with me.
She’s got this warmth, this quiet kindness, but there’s a sorrow underneath it all. It seems unresolved.”
I swallow back a hard lump, the sense of unease gnawing at me.
This is exactly the kind of thing we don’t need around here, especially if there’s any chance she could pull us into a fight we’re not ready for.
Coyote Glen may look peaceful on the surface, but this town’s got more history buried under it than most people realize.
And the last thing I need is some sweet tourist turning into a liability.
I don’t let my expression change, but Finn notices. He’s got this uncanny ability to read me; he can feel when I’m about to snap.
“So, what happened?”
He smirks. “I went back to her place, and we had one hell of a night.”
“Yet, you’re here.”
“I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to keep her up.”
“So… it’s a one-night stand? Because we don’t need distractions right now. Not with everything hanging over us.”
Finn looks at me, really looks at me. I can see the question in his eyes. Why I’m so stiff about it. His lips curl into that trademark grin again, but it’s softer now. More thoughtful.
“Relax, man,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, it was a good night. She’s not some problem. But I could see it. I know you’re worried about… other things, but not every new face around here is a threat.”
I turn away, grabbing another bottle and setting it on the counter. I can feel the past creeping back in, heavier now than before.
I may not have a lot of control over what’s coming, but there’s one thing I can control. The people I let into this world. And if anyone’s going to get hurt, it sure as hell won’t be me or my own.
Especially if Cole is sniffing around.