CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO RYKER
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
RYKER
NOW
“Will you stop that?” Kaos snaps, and it takes me a second to realize he’s talking to me.
I haven’t been able to sit still since we arrived at the clinic.
I’ve paced up and down the hallway so many times I’m surprised I haven’t worn a hole in the linoleum. And when Camilla told me if I didn’t sit down she was going to have Kovu use his favorite knife on me, I sat my ass down and my leg started jiggling.
Which I suspect is what has irritated the brick wall of a man.
I lean back in the hard plastic seat and cross my arms over my chest, but it’s no use.
No matter how hard I try to stay still, I’m itching to do something.
To kill someone.
To hold Chloe.
To talk to my boss.
Sitting here and doing nothing goes against my very nature, and after days of it, I’m starting to lose my fucking mind.
“They should be here soon,” Camilla reminds me, as if I haven’t been watching the clock on the other side of the room tick away ever since Ronan gave us an ETA.
Seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds remain if his estimate was correct.
And if it wasn’t, I’m likely to lose my ever-loving mind.
The doctor and nurse Crew organized sit behind the desk, their hands where we can see them at all times. It’s probably not their first time dealing with criminals, and they know the drill.
If they do everything they’re told, they’ll get paid and walk out here with their lives. But one wrong move, and they’ll have a bullet between their eyes.
It’s not as if we kidnapped them. They drove themselves here knowing they would be dealing with something shady, so I don’t feel bad that the nurse’s eyes flick between us, constantly trying to figure out who is the biggest threat to her.
The doctor, a man in his sixties, doesn’t look as worried, which tells me this isn’t his first rodeo.
He knows there’s a big fat envelope of cash in his future if he doesn’t fuck up.
I itch to call the boss again, to give him an update, but he has my number blocked, and my calls aren’t even going to voicemail anymore.
Crew checks the time before pushing himself to his feet and straightening his suit. “They’ll be here in a few minutes, so let’s go over some ground rules.”
I scowl at him when he looks directly at me.
“Chloe will be put straight on the gurney and taken to be checked over by the doctor. There will be no snatching her from Ronan, and once she is on the bed, there will be no killing the Lombardi in the room.”
“But he helped kidnap her!”
“That may be so, but he is also the one that betrayed his family to get her back to us.”
He has a point, but that doesn’t make me any happier about the rules he’s laying out in front of me.
In a lot of ways Crew reminds me of the boss.
The fact they’re close in age and I’ve never seen either of them in anything other than a perfectly fitted suit.
Their temperaments are also so similar I keep finding myself wondering if they’re somehow related.
“And if it’s a trap?”
He tilts his head to the side and sighs. “Salvatore does not benefit from our demise. In fact, killing anyone connected to the Syndicate or the De Marco family would be detrimental to his operations because no one would trust him enough to work with him.”
I want to argue, but he’s right. The only way Salvatore is a part of this at all is if he’s realized taking Chloe and starting a war isn’t worth it.
“What are we going to do with him if we can’t kill him?” Kovu asks, disappointment lacing his tone, and I can’t help but chuckle. Seems I’m not the only one itching for a kill.
Although if what Camilla was saying on the way over was true, he just got to torture and kill the man that orchestrated her kidnapping so he can get in line.
If anyone is killing Ronan, it’s going to be me.
Before Crew can respond, the door at the end of the hallway swings open, and Ronan steps in with Chloe in his arms.
I’m out of my seat so quickly I’m barely aware of the decision to stand, and by the time I reach them, he’s placing her on the waiting gurney.
Ronan brushes her matted hair from her cheek, completely unaware of my approach. “There you go, Sparrow.”
Her eyes flutter open, and I stop in my tracks as I watch her gaze up at him. It’s like a knife to the chest seeing her stare up at him with so much trust despite everything he’s done to her, all the pain he and his family have caused.
I round the other side of the bed, ignoring Crew’s earlier instructions.
Her head rolls to the side to look up at me, and tears fill her eyes. “Ryker,” she chokes. “You’re okay.”
I open my mouth to respond but snap it shut again.
I’m okay?
She was worried about me when she’s been being held captive for the last week?
I swallow and take her hand in mine, desperate for the contact. “Yeah, Siren, I’m okay.” I brush my thumb over the back of her hand. “The doctor is going to do some tests and check you out. How does that sound?”
Panic fills her eyes, and I immediately long to take it away. I’d give her my left fucking kidney if it meant she never looked so frightened again.
“Camilla can be with you,” I rush out before I can think it through.
I look up at the woman in question, and she gives me a nod, allowing the tension to bleed from my shoulders.
“And you’ll both be here when I come back?” she asks, her eyes flicking between me and Ronan.
I glance up at the man I long to kill to find him staring right back at me.
“Yeah, Sparrow. We’ll be here,” he answers.
It’s going to take a serious fucking show of restraint for me not to kill this fucking asshole.