Page 19 of Captivated with Them

Chapter Nine

Kodee

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I WAS WORRIED ABOUTRyan.

The sex and the meds had helped him a little, but not as much as normal. It was easy to see how much pain he was in, though he was doing his best to hide it from me.

“Jesus, Ryan,” I said to him eventually. I’d caught him sitting on the bed, rocking back and forth and groaning. “You can’t go on like this. You need to go and see your specialist. Weren’t you due to have a new prosthesis soon? Wasn’t that the whole reason Dillon had gotten involved with the Capello brothers in the first place—because he’d wanted to use the money to get you a new leg?”

Ryan’s jaw was rigid, a sharp profile. “Yes, but he never actually got the money, did he? We got Rue instead.”

“But you’re still due a new limb, aren’t you? We’ll find the money from somewhere. Hell, we’ll sell this place if we have to.”

“No, we won’t. This is our home.”

“It’s just four walls and a roof. They don’t matter, so long as you’re okay.”

Ryan didn’t look at me, his fists clenched by his sides. “What if we leave and then Frankie Capello comes here with a job he needs us to do, or news on Rue?”

“We won’t be long, and he can wait. This is important.”

He lifted his gaze to mine. “More important than Rue’s or Dillon’s safety?”

“You’re as important to me as they are.”

He shook his head. “I hate being a burden on you.”

“Hey.” I cupped Ryan’s face, pulling his eyes back to mine. “You’re never a burden. Never. Got it?”

Reluctantly, he nodded.

“Now, let’s get you down to your specialist and see what he suggests.”

“Okay, but I can’t tell him the truth about what we did. I’m going to have to come up with a story.”

“Will he believe that you overdid it in the gym?”

Ryan shrugged. “Probably not, but that would make the most sense.”

“Let’s try that, then.”

I grabbed my jacket and got Ryan’s coat as well. It was getting cooler now. We no longer had any form of transport. Dillon’s bike was still in the garage beneath the building, but neither of us knew how to ride it. I wasn’t about to risk further injury to Ryan’s leg by attempting it, either.

We left the apartment and exited the building through the lobby and stepped out onto the street. Ryan’s limp was pronounced. I wanted to offer him my help, put my arm around his waist so he could lean on me for support, but I knew how proud he was.

I looked around for a cab, ready to flag down the first one I saw.

I spotted a yellow vehicle, its light on. The driver must have noticed me, as he signaled to pull over.

“Here we go,” I told Ryan, placing my hand against his lower back to guide him forward.

From seemingly out of nowhere, our path was suddenly blocked by two other men.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” one of them demanded.

My heart sank.

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