CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT RYKER
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
RYKER
NOW
Imove around a lot for my job, hopping from town to town, state to state, and I’ve always been neutral about most of the places I’ve visited.
Except Florida.
I fucking hate it here.
The humidity. The heat. The goddamn gators.
Those overgrown dinosaurs are one of the few things on earth that scare the shit out of me, and I don’t give a fuck if that makes me a pussy.
As soon as we step off the jet, I want to walk my ass back up the stairs and get the fuck out of here, but not until we have Chloe.
We landed at a private airfield three hours from Miami, knowing Lombardi will have anything closer in his back pocket, but we’ll be sitting tight in this area for the night until reinforcements arrive.
Camilla called in every favor she could and then some, but her biggest hurdle was convincing her men she was okay to travel so soon after getting out of the hospital.
I have to admit, watching the men of the Legion lose their minds when she started crying was amusing as hell, and in the end, she got exactly what she wanted.
Out of habit more than necessity, I try the boss again, but I’m once again sent straight to voicemail. I’m pretty sure the fucker has my number blocked, but I keep trying anyway.
I’ve been working for him most of my adult life, but this is the first time he’s iced me out like this. It’s also the first time I’ve ever defied a direct order, so maybe I deserve it.
The sun set hours ago, which makes it even more confusing to me why it’s still so goddamn hot. Doesn’t Mother Nature know it’s almost winter?
I trail after the group toward the two SUV’s parked a few yards away and follow Camilla into the front vehicle, much to the dismay of her guys.
“We’re not adding anymore men to the collection, Little Menace,” Crew rumbles as he helps her into the car and fastens the seat belt around her.
“He’s obviously obsessed with Chloe.” She rolls her eyes. “Plus, I already have my hands full with the men I have.”
I snicker and take my seat in the back. The way they bicker normally amuses me to no end, but I can’t shake the knowledge that the Lombardis have had Chloe for almost a week, and we have no guarantees that she’s even alive.
What if we’re too late?
Resting my head against the window, I allow my eyes to fall closed.
I’m fucking exhausted.
No matter how hard I try to sleep, all I can think about is Chloe.
If she’s hurt.
If she’s alive.
If she’s given up.
I promised I was coming for her, but it’s taken too long. I wouldn’t blame her if she’s counted me out, if she thinks I’ve failed her the same way so many others have before.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I almost ignore the blocked number. Despite having my entire identity and everything attached to it locked the fuck down, the odd scammer does slip through from time to time.
But then I remember it’s two in the morning, and the likelihood of someone calling to sell me a new solar system is beyond low at this time of the day.
“This is Ryker,” I say as Camilla and Crew turn to look at me.
“It’s Ronan.” A hesitant voice comes from the other end of the line.
“What the fuck do you want?” I snap.
“I need your help.” The line crackles, and I’m pretty sure he’s in a car if the background noise is anything to go by.
I tap the speaker button so the others can hear what he has to say. “Where’s Chloe?”
“I have her. We’re heading north out of Miami, but I think she needs to see a doctor, and the only ones I know will report back to my father.”
Camilla’s brow shoots up, but it takes me a few extra seconds to process what he’s saying.
“And I’m assuming he doesn’t know that you and Chloe are no longer within the Lombardi compound?”
Silence fills the line before he finally sighs. “I’m sure he’s realized by now, but no, he didn’t know at the time we left.”
“Is she okay?”
“I think so, but she hit her head, and she hasn’t woken up.”
“How long ago?”
“Close to an hour.”
I curse and look up to see Camilla tapping away on her phone and Crew barking orders into his.
“We’re a few hours out of Miami. Ryker will send you an address in the next ten minutes,” Crew announces. “Is there any way for them to track you?”
“I disabled the tracker in my car as soon as I left the compound, and I left without anything other than a burner.”
“Good. Keep driving north until you get the text.”
He breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Just keep Chloe safe, and I might not slit your throat the second I see you,” I snap before ending the call.
It’s been too fucking long since I’ve spilled blood, and Ronan Lombardi is at the top of my goddamn list.