Page 30 of Rescuing Ryder

“I’m done. I don’t want to do this anymore. I have an exit plan and it sure feels good to know I’ll have the option. You can’t save me, Claire. I’m your biggest failure. I appreciate your help, but I’m done.”

Ryder turned and walked away. His chest threatened to explode. Damn it, why didn’t she keep it all light and fluffy? Gunner’s voice echoed in his head.

She got too close. It’s not your fault, brother.

But Gunner didn’t see the devastation in Patty’s eyes. The misery on his kid’s faces when Uncle Ryder showed up without their dad. He stomped his way back to his cabin. Throwing his bedroom door open, he located his bag and threw it on the bed. Ryder went to the closet, jerked the clothes from the hangers and stuffed them inside. Gunner’s voice refused to stop.

If you leave, she can’t help you. You need to live a life worthy of all of us. If you fail, we died for nothing.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” he yelled into the empty room. Blindly reaching for the closet, he dragged himself inside, hoping it quieted the voices in his head. “I can’t do this anymore.Don’t you understand? My life isn’t worth saving,” he sobbed into the empty closet.

Curling into a ball on the cot, he continued to bellow out the pain he held inside for the last eighteen months. The anguish of the death of his best friend, the helplessness of watching them suffer from burns, unable to relieve the pain, viewing the empty chair at the wedding, knowing his brother should’ve witnessed his daughter’s marriage or passed out cigars at the birth of his little girl, not him. Why didn’t they accept they saved the wrong person?

Two hours later,the closet door opened, and Whiskey walked inside. He sat on the floor, not speaking.

“I can’t stay here anymore. Use your resources on someone who can benefit from them. I’m too far gone, Whiskey,” he implored quietly.

Whiskey nodded. “I understand. I remember the feeling. You’ll pack your bags and leave. Maybe not the first day, but you’ll return home and think the piece of steel in your hand will solve all your problems. You’ll stop feeling the rage, trauma, and helplessness. Did you stop to think of what you left behind?”

Ryder sat up and arched his brow toward Whiskey. “I don’t have any family. My friends died. No one will mourn me,” he admitted quietly. “By the week’s end, my apartment will be up for rent and it’ll be like I never existed or returned from hell.”

“What about the soldier you befriended here? You never ask for his name but watch for him at the meetings. You give him a chin lift when he accomplishes something. Scott searches for you when he walks into a room. If you give up, what chance does he stand? Or will he follow you? Then there’s Chase and Kassie,who invest their time and energy into this place to make you feel welcome and become a part of something bigger than any of us. If you give up, the little redhead will wonder what more she should’ve done. Chase will obsess over his notes and his wife. Claire will blame herself because she wanted you to trust her. She’ll think she waited too long.”

Ryder’s face scrunched at the thought of Claire. He didn’t want her to think she failed. If truth be known, he anticipated their meetings. She understood his need to work with his hands while they chatted. Hell, who would help her fix up her monstrosity of a house before she maimed herself?

He pinned Whiskey with a stare. “You know they’ve done everything. Claire sent you here, didn’t she?”

Whiskey chuckled as he shook his head. “Your team did everything to save you. Tex brought you here for us to rescue you. Claire didn’t send me. The button came on in the office indicating you needed help. Maybe it’s time to figure out what you can do to save yourself.” Standing, he squeezed Ryder’s shoulder before leaving him alone.

His gaze fell to the end of the cot where the sign sat and the button to call someone remained attached to the wall. No light showed. Yet, Whiskey said it came on in the office someone manned twenty-four hours a day. What were the odds of Whiskey sitting in the room? He shook his head and held it between his knees resting his elbows on his thighs.

“Did you turn it on, Gunner? You always believed in signs from the afterlife. Fine. I’ll work on it. But I don’t want to work on it with Claire. You probably orchestrated her getting burned by the fire, so I would walk into her bathroom full of all her lacy underthings. You’re a bastard, you know that? I can’t stop picturing her in the pink thong and embroidered bra. Did you check out her ass? She loves running, too. She sucks at fixingshit. How can a woman with a doctorate not know how to use a screwdriver?”

He laughed at himself for talking into the empty room. No doubt Gunner pushed him to keep going because Gunner’s voice always appeared when he held the gun to his head and talked him down until he didn’t have the strength to pull the trigger.

Standing in the small space, he took a deep breath and went to find Dr. Winters. Doc said they gave him choices, and he planned to hold them to it.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Claire pulled out her pepper spray and gripped it tightly as she walked toward the house. She scheduled the security company to install the alarm at the end of the week. Planning on spending another night on her office couch, her idea failed when Chase insisted he walk her to her car at the end of the evening. Now, the dark house loomed before her, and dread filled her.

She sighed, put the key into the lock, and turned the knob. Claire entered the house and paused. She thought she heard something. Thinking she needed to call the electrician to fix the entryway light, she felt along the wall until she found the lamp and flipped the switch on.

A chorus of ‘Welcome Home’ met her, and she didn’t think as she screamed and pushed the button, spraying mace into one of the intruder’s faces. Someone screamed and fell to the ground, gasping for air. Claire dropped the canister as she witnessed Catherine drop to her knees to help Kassie. Leo launched over and picked her up, shouting orders to his teammates. A few seconds later, Chase ran in with a diaper bag and straight to her bathroom.

Elizabeth Harris, the hospital coordinator and wife of the town’s pediatrician, approached her. She placed her hand onClaire’s arm as she stood in shock, wondering why all these people were in her house.

“We’re sorry, Claire. We only meant to surprise you,” she explained hesitantly.

“Oh my gosh, I sprayed Kassie with mace! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her. You all startled me,” she gushed out an explanation. Saint ran out the door, and Leo nervously waited outside the bathroom door as Chase helped his wife.

Claire ran to the edge of the bathroom. “I’m sorry, Kassie. What can I do to help?”

“I’m fine, Claire. I’m sorry I startled you. We wanted to throw you a surprise welcome home party,” she explained, half sobbing.

“Claire, do you have any milk?” Chase asked as he held his wife over the faucet in the tub. “I’m afraid my sample size of baby shampoo isn’t working.”

“Yes, I’ll get it for you.” She turned to find Leo already handing the carton over to his friend.

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