Page 58 of Ryder

I swore my heart stopped beating right before the line went dead. I immediately dialed Jagger’s number back, but it went straight to voice mail. I tried five more times, but each time I heard his automated message telling me to leave a message after the beep. Clutching my phone tightly, I willed it to ring, my internal voice screaming at the top of her lungs for the damn thing to burst out in sound.

I hadn’t even realized that I’d been crying until Kena unbuckled her seat belt and crawled next to me, pulling me into her embrace. She tried to comfort me, and I loved her dearly for her attempt, but nothing in the world would make me feel better except for Ryder’s voice.

Right before I was about to lose it, my screams bubbling inside my throat, I heard one of the men’s phones ring. Nash was driving our SUV while one of his buddies sat next to him—I believed his name was Cass.

“Yeah,” Nash answered in a hurry. “Fuck. Okay. Yeah. I know. I’m drivin’ as fast as I can.” Nothing else was said before he hung up, tossing his phone into the center console.

“Who was that?” Reece asked from behind us. I’d completely forgotten she was in the vehicle with us, she’d been so quiet. When Nash didn’t answer, she leaned forward in her seat. “Who was that?” That time her voice was louder, and there was no way our driver didn’t hear her.

“No one.”

“No one?” she screeched, followed by the click of her seat belt coming undone as she tried to crawl over the seat to where Kena and I were sitting, all the while careful of her small pregnant belly. It seemed as if Reece had finally snapped, joining the rest of us in our fear. When she’d managed to clear the seat, she lunged toward the front, hitting Nash on his arm so frantically I feared he was going to veer off the road and crash.

“What the hell? Sit down,” he demanded, the gravel in his voice leaving no doubt that he was serious. And extremely angry. But Reece ignored him, her hair flying wildly around her as she continued to slap him. He tried to dodge her hits but he was trapped, trying to keep his eyes on the road while attempting to get away from her flailing arms.

“You need to calm down, sweetheart,” Cass coaxed, grabbing her hands and holding them together in front of her, cautious not to injure her. His voice was eerily calm, especially after having witnessed her break with reality. “We’re following orders. We’re not to give you ladies any info until we know for sure what we’re dealin’ with, so no amount of yelling and hitting will make us talk.” Cass faced not only Reece but Kena and me as well, his dark green eyes flicking to each of us to drive home his point. “Now go back and sit down,” he instructed.

He released Reece’s hands and turned back around to face front, not even waiting for her to comply, which she did almost right away. Kena and I moved so she could sit between us.

“Can you at least tell us where we’re going?” I asked, waiting not so patiently for his answer.

“California,” Nash replied. He took a breath. “We’re takin’ you back home.”

Ryder

A flurry of activity drew me back into consciousness, albeit briefly. My eyes were heavy, lifting them a feat I wanted to give up, but the incessant talking around me increased in volume. After raising my arm toward my face, another task I found rather difficult, I managed to open my eyes, my sight hampered by a bright light. When my pupils had finally adjusted, my vision contorted. Blurry. I saw shapes and witnessed movement, but that was all. Before long, I drifted back into the darkness, Braylen’s face greeting me as I relished the comfort of the unknown.

An intense burning sensation traveled up my thigh and shoved me from sleep, scrambling toward awareness so rapidly I barely had any time to decipher where I was or who was around me.

“Uhhh,” I groaned, trying to move my leg. I clutched the table I was lying on just so I had somewhere to focus my energy; otherwise, I feared I’d tear at my flesh just to try and stop the pain.

“He’s awake,” I heard someone say. My eyes fluttered open, then closed. Open. Closed. Open. I slowly looked around the room but still didn’t know where I was.

“Ryder,” the rough voice greeted. “Can you hear me?” Whoever stood over me shook my arm before waving his hand in front of my face. “Ryder!” he shouted. “Look at me.”

“Fuck, man,” I grated. “Shut up.” It was then I recognized the voice. Jagger. “What is that awful smell?” A pungent aroma wafted up my nose until I could barely catch my breath. I turned my head to the side and the smell lessened, although I swore it was trapped inside my nostrils.

“Smelling salts,” Jagger answered. “Gotta get you up and back in the land of the living.”

“You wait till I get up,” I threatened, knowing damn well it would be quite some time before my body would finally decide to cooperate with my brain.

“He’s fine,” Jagger shouted to someone, walking away from me as my eyes drifted shut once more. Slow and steady breaths calmed me as I rode back into unconsciousness. I didn’t make it, however, that god-awful, borderline-painful smell filling my nose again. “Nope. You gotta get up, Ryder.”

I swatted the air in front of my face, thankful to have mobility of my arm. It was a start. Now all I had to do was move my leg, enough to chop off the goddamn thing so I could rid myself of the excruciating agony.

“What happened?” I tried to sit up but found the effort laughable.

“Don’t move. I need you awake, but don’t try and get up. Not until he sees you.” Jagger stood by my head, prepared to shove me back down if I made another attempt.

“Who? Until who sees me?”

“The guy Rabid brought in to tend to you guys.” His words were so matter of fact, I almost missed the name he’d spoken.

Rabid.

The Savage Reaper’s VP.

Memories hit me like a sledgehammer, assaulting my brain until all I could do was live through the horrific events all over again, as if it was the very first time.

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