Page 60 of Ryder

Tripp shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “Yeah, we heard about that.” Our nomad smiled, even though it was brief.

“Yeah, I’m sure you did.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t ever find anything.” Tripp took a moment before finishing his thought. “Tying us to it.” His smirk reappeared, essentially telling the man Psych was indeed dead.

“Well, if we ever find him, just know I’ll be payin’ your club a little visit. I do have a job to do, after all.”

“Like I said. . . .” Tripp rocked back and forth on his heels as he entered a visual showdown with the guy.

An image pushed its way to the forefront of my memory, and before I could think better of it, I blurted, “But I saw you shoot Koritz.”

“He finally gave me the name I was after, the one in charge.” He was so matter of fact, it was unexpected.

“Who are you undercover with that would legally allow you to shoot someone?” Jagger asked the question that time, his confusion rivaling my own.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied. “Maybe I was under too long, the darkness the Reapers existing in affecting me more than I care to acknowledge.” Shrugging, he said, “Or maybe I shot him in self-defense.” He smirked, and I knew right then he wasn’t sorry for killing that sonofabitch, and would probably do it again if given the chance. Koritz certainly wouldn’t be missed, and I was only too happy that he’d finally been dealt with. And who better than from the man Koritz most likely thought was on his side the entire time.

“Why help us, though?” I asked, looking to Tripp and Jagger and then back to the essential stranger standing next to all of us.

“Because even though your club was on our radar, you guys weren’t even in the same league as the Reapers. And once I found out your president had cut all ties with the cartel, I focused all of my time, energy and resources on the group I’d infiltrated all those years ago. We have enough to dismantle the club and put away the rest of ’em for a very long time.”

He moved aside as I saw several strangers approach—two men and a woman dressed in scrubs. Apparently, they were who’d been called in to help. As they made quick work in checking on my leg, I couldn’t help but be thankful the war was finally over between the Knights Corruption and the Savage Reapers.

Braylen

At some point during the trip home, I’d fallen asleep dreaming of Ryder. The images conjured from my subconscious helped keep me locked in my slumber. The man I loved smiled at me, his gentle touch trying to rouse me from sleep, but I refused to open my eyes even though I could hear him calling my name. Then everything changed, the sudden urgency in his voice alarming me. His mouth opened and his lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear anything. Even though my lids were squeezed shut, I could see him. A worried expression pained his features. Then I saw blood. So much blood. The next thing I knew, his face morphed into a blank slate before his body turned into a whirlwind of dust circling above me.

“Braylen. Wake up.”

My eyes flew open and I clutched my chest, my lungs on fire due to lack of oxygen. Apparently I’d been holding my breath while locked in my dream. No, my nightmare. My vision blurred as I tried to adjust my sight. The first person I saw was Nash, confusion wrapping its ugly arms around me and squeezing the remnants of sleep from me.

“We’re here,” he announced, cocking his head before shifting back into the driver seat.

“Where?”

“Home. Well, not home exactly, but close enough, I suppose.” He was facing front now, fiddling with his phone while I tried to come to grips with my new reality. I still hadn’t talked to Ryder, my conversation with Jagger cut short during the only phone call I’d received.

Looking out the window, I saw the sun shining brightly, although the tint on the vehicle helped to dull the effect. As I glanced around, however, I became confused. Nothing looked familiar.

“Where are we?”

Without answering me, Nash opened his door and disappeared outside. I turned my head to the side and noticed I was all alone.

Where are Kena and Reece? Where is Cass?

Where the hell are we?

Slowly opening my door, I tentatively stepped outside the SUV, closing the door behind me when I realized I wasn’t in any sort of danger. Up ahead I saw Kena talking to Jagger, her hands frantically signing before he crushed her to him. Only when I shuffled my feet across the dirt separating us did they look in my direction. Jagger released my sister and she ran toward me, drawing me into a tight hug before stepping back. Jagger was slow to approach, the sight of him causing me to tremble. He looked like he’d been through hell, but from what I could tell he wasn’t physically injured, other than a scrape on the side of his neck.

“Hi,” he greeted, squeezing my hand briefly before releasing it. “Sorry my phone went dead, but I had other things I had to deal with.” He kept his eyes on me, his stare starting to freak me out. Before I lost it, though, he lifted his chin toward the building behind him, flashing me a tight smile. “Let’s go. Someone wants to see you.”

I reached for his arm to stop his retreat. “Wait.” A deep inhalation of air coated my lungs. “He’s alive?”

“Yeah, and he’s waiting to see you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that as soon as you came up to me?” All of my fear morphed into anger, everything hitting me like a goddamn freight train. “I thought he was dead,” I screamed, hitting his chest. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?” I raised my hands to strike him again but Jagger caught them and pulled me close.

“I’m sorry.” Looking a little guilty, he said, “So much shit happened. I’m still trying to deal with everything.” We stared at each other while I calmed down, his hold lessening until he finally released me. “Now let’s go.” He grabbed Kena’s hand and pulled her behind him as he walked away.

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