“I have something for you.” He reaches into the wide pocket on his thigh and removes a small black box, like one you’d keep jewelry in.
Ryder dispenses with formalities and opens the box himself. His fingers hook around a silver chain, excavating the delicate necklace from the midnight velvet that holds it. He lets the chain dangle in the air so the sunlight streaming through the windows catches the pendant. Brilliant green gems are arranged among crystals and silver that curves to create a beautiful four leaf clover. It sparkles and dazzles, and I immediately love it.
“It’s for good luck. To keep you safe.” He takes a step into me and reaches his arms around my neck. “Pick up your hair.”
My muscles move by memory only, as if on autopilot. When my hair is gathered, he fastens the chain around my throat.
For a moment the clover simply dances against my throat while neither of us move.
“Your life will go back to normal sooner than you think. You’ll be back in classes and on that career track of yours; you’ll have a boyfriend, and all of this will only be a fading memory.”
“Do you really believe I could forget you so quickly?” I whisper, overcome.
Ryder brings his lips to my ear and in a hushed tone that is simple as a breath he says, “Then don’t.”
He steps back before I have a chance to respond.
“She’s all yours. Make sure I don’t have to intervene again,” he orders, and then he walks out the door.
He leaves!
How can he just leave?
My lungs burn and my chest constricts. He didn’t say goodbye.
I let my fingertips caress the lucky clover and think, When did he have the chance to get this?
It doesn’t really matter—he did, that’s what counts.
I’ll never forget you, Ryder Axton.
Chapter Ten
Ryder
“I should be out there looking for Eduardo Miguel.” I’m pissed as I send the dart rocketing through the air to the target twenty feet away on the wall.
“So get out there and find him,” Talon tells me, like it’s simple and I’m an idiot.
“The Bureau made sure to inform me that they want me as far away from this case as Siberia is from the Caribbean.”
“That’s because they don’t want you showing them up,” Josh says.
“It’s high profile. They’ll keep her safe, and that’s the important thing.” I launch another dart. “Right?” I don’t have to see them to know they both just rolled their eyes at me.
“Don’t you have wives or women to deal with?” I bark.
“Sophie and Charlie are with Quinn shopping,” Josh says like I wasn’t trying to insult him.
“I don’t need the drama.” Talon flips through an Inked Magazine. “And since when do you do what you’re told?”
“I’m not, exactly. I have Briggs scanning satellites and traffic cams, and I’ve got my ear to the ground while watching for Miguel to pop back up on the grid. All I need for him is to make one fucking mistake,” I extract the last three words slowly and pitch another dart. “I’m also keeping an eye on those stupid-ass cops in Mansfield since they weren’t suspended in the fiasco. But they’re carefully lying low too,” I explain. “But even all that’s not the same as beating pavement—the waiting is fucking agonizing.”
We’re hanging in the man cave in the back of the House of Ink and Steel—the tattoo and piercing shop that’s owned by my brothers. Well, they may not be my brothers by birth, but these guys are the truest brothers I could have ever asked for.
My tongue rolls into my cheek. And I didn’t ask for them.
Maybe these guys were Chief’s way of looking out for me after he left this earth. I don’t know how all that shit works—life and afterlife—but that’s how it always felt to me. How it felt after we finally got past our differences, anyway.
If there had been more of a chance, more time, I would’ve explained to Farrington just what that tattoo scribed over my left rib, the one that says, “I am my Brother’s Keeper,” means.
“I swear to God! For a group of rugged bastards, you’re all sure turning pretty fucking domesticated.” Reese busts in through the back door with Liam, Connor and Chase. He takes one look at me. “Oh Christ! Even Ryder is in a mood. How am I supposed to hang out with you ass-clowns anymore if you’re just going to act like a bunch of grumpy old men?”
“Do you want to get in the ring and have a go at me, Reese?” Josh doesn’t even bother looking up from his Parenting Magazine.
“Nope,” Reese is quick to answer.
I chuckle. Josh North is the Light Heavyweight Champion of the UFC at the moment and at the very top of his game.
“Good, then shut up, puppy,” Josh quips.
“Whatever.” Reese ignores him. “Liam and Josh now have no balls, only chains. Connor and Chase are only interested in using precious summer months for more school—I mean, honestly, who the hell does that? Talon is afraid to lose his virginity, and Ryder—”
The dart flies from my hand and shaves past Reese’s ear and into the door near where he stands.