Because he was no longer that man.
‘What am I? I don’t know,’ Ryker said. ‘But I’m not the same. In fact I’m different in many ways. The last few days have taught me that.’
‘Then who are you?’
‘I’m James,’ Ryker said, smiling. ‘James Ryker.’
The same day, Ryker was on a plane back home. He’d not yet seen a doctor about his mangled hand, and his body was covered in bruises, cuts and scratches. He needed drugs. He needed rest.
But he wanted to be with Lisa.
By the time Ryker made it back to his home, it was night-time the next day. The connecting flights hadn’t been kind to Ryker and he’d spent hours in airports trying his best to catch some much-needed rest on rows of hard metallic chairs. Even if he hadn’t been beaten and bruised, he’d have been a groggy mess from the travelling alone.
But as he stepped through the front doorway, into his space, for a moment he suddenly felt alive again.
The feeling didn’t last long, though. He’d expected to hear the patter of feet. To have Lisa bound up to him, wrap her arms around him, and sink her head into his chest. It was a moment he’d been longing for for days.
Instead, he was greeted by a dark, cold, silent house. He flipped on the lights.
The open plan room – kitchen, lounge, diner – was spotless, no clothes or mess anywhere. Ryker frowned as he walked through the space and into the bedroom. The bed was made. Everything looked tidy and neat... unused.
Ryker took out his phone. No messages, no missed calls. He dialled Lisa. He heard a buzzing. He moved out of the bedroom, following the noise. There on the coffee table in the lounge was Lisa’s vibrating phone.
Ryker killed the call, and felt a sickly, unfamiliar feeling. Was it worry or sorrow or guilt or all three? He painstakingly searched the rest of the house. There was no fresh food or milk in the fridge, nothing to suggest she’d been there recently. All of her clothes and her few belongings appeared to be in place. There was no sign of a struggle, a break-in either.
In a moment of doubt – or was it hope? – Ryker wondered whether maybe she’d walked out on him, run away to start a fresh life on her own. He couldn’t fathom why she would do that, but it was surely a better outcome than the other possibility. Could his going to Spain have caused her to leave him?
He moved to the bedroom again, looked in the bedside drawer. Found her passport in the name of Lisa Ryker.
No, she hadn’t run, he didn’t believe. One way or another, Lisa was in trouble. Winter had already tracked them down, despite their best efforts at hiding. Ryker’s only conclusion was that someone else had found them.
And Ryker hadn't even been there to protect her. He felt a flood of guilt. While he’d been busy chasing an old flame through Spain, the love of his life had come to harm.
He didn’t know who was responsible or why, but he would do everything he could to find out. To save her.
Ryker quickly moved through the house, collecting the few possessions he needed – weapons, IDs, money. He headed to the front door and opened it, then turned to look back at his home, a place he had truly believed would become his sanctum. Their sanctum.
Whatever had happened to Lisa, he knew that dream was gone.
Ryker flicked off the lights and stepped out into the night. He shut the door behind him, and walked away.
THE END