Page 69 of Rescuing Ryder

Claire went to leave. Her hand grasped the knob, and she turned toward him. “I never think of myself as a miracle worker. I take my job seriously, especially when dealing with the lives of men and women who sacrificed for our country. One wrong decision, one wrong day, can jeopardize their lives. You witnessed Scott today. People who come here deserve the best I can offer them. You deserved it, too. I’ve watched you change and I’m so damn proud of you.” Tears threatened to fall. Claire turned and opened the door when an arm shot out and closed the door.

She rested her head against the door.

“I’m a jackass,” Ryder murmured. “Stay.” His hand brushed her hair away from her face to glimpse at her.

“No. I’ll ask for a ride home at the hospital.” Closing her eyes, she breathed in his woodsy scent. Ryder didn’t understand.

“Everyone left for the evening. The night shift doesn’t leave for another four hours,” Ryder reasoned with her.

“I want to go home,” she insisted.

“Fine. Give me a minute and I’ll drive you home.”

Claire openedthe door and waited for him outside. She needed a breath of fresh air. A minute later, he came out to drive her home. The evening turned intense, confusing her more than ever.

Ryder pulled into her driveway and walked her to her door. She unlocked it and he followed her inside. Claire felt along the wall to turn on the lamp, reminding herself to call the electrician in the morning. When she didn’t feel the table where the lamp sat, she turned.

“Ryder?” she called, her voice sounding panicked.

“Don’t move, Claire,” he ordered as he went to the office and flipped on the light. Claire’s breath caught in her throat as she surveyed her home. Her office now resembled a tornado-stricken area. Papers decorated the floor and furniture upended. Ryder took her hand, led her away from the window, and gestured for her to sit in the darkened corner of her entryway. She watched as he cleared the rooms of any intruders before taking out his phone and calling Leo.

“It’s Ryder. Claire’s house was ransacked.”

He hung up the phone and pulled her close. “Don’t worry. Things can be replaced. You can’t.”

Ryder’s reassurance only heightened her fear as he walked her from room to room. Her new living room sofa lay on its side, slashed with a knife, and the table held big gouges. Stuffing from the pillows decorated the hardwood floors. The glasses in her kitchen smashed on the tile. Still oozing liquid, wine bottles lay shattered.

Ryder led her to the porch and sat with her until the team arrived.

“We’ll figure this out,” Ryder assured her as he rested her head against his shoulder.

Somehow, Claire didn’t feel like a doctor with a degree in handling a person’s mental health. She felt like a woman alone and scared.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

The police arrived to take the report. The team snapped pictures and asked Claire to list anything taken. She searched the rubble of her invaded home and discovered nothing missing. At 0200, Leo called it a night. The men cleaned up the broken glass and righted the furniture. They promised to help her sort through her belongings and discard the damaged items later in the morning.

Her heart felt heavy as Claire picked up her first-edition copies. It didn’t mean anything to most, but to her, they became the prize after a long search and the enjoyment of adding it to her ever-growing collection.

Ryder led her to her bedroom. The mattress was pulled back in place and fresh sheets adorned it. “You need to sleep,” he told her. “I’m staying the night. I don’t understand why you refused to stay on the mountain.”

“Because I worked hard and saved for this house. I’m not letting some jerk run me off. It’s my home and I’m staying,” she confessed wearily.

“What about the file on Kilner? Did you check to see if it’s still safe?”

Claire nodded. “Leo asked me to check. It’s still there. Do you think it’s related?”

“I’m not sure. I’m not allowing you to stay alone until we discover who did this,” Ryder informed her, determined.

“The team said they can watch the house. The police agreed to make extra patrols. It’s my fault I forgot to set the alarm,” Claire admitted. “Matthew checked the last time I used the code.”

Ryder stared at her. Claire didn’t make careless mistakes. She followed the rules and kept meticulous notes. Forgetting to set the alarm seemed like a stretch. The coincidence of a burglar knowing she forgot it felt even slimmer.

“I’ll sleep in the living room,” Ryder offered.

Claire mutely nodded. He didn’t understand her need to question her feelings and her involvement with him as a patient, no matter how short-lived.

She entered the bathroom and changed into the folded pajamas Ryder set on the sink. Pulling her hair into a messy bun on top of her head, Claire glanced in the mirror. Her eye lost the black and blue shades she sported over the last week. It felt puffy and it burned now and then, reminding her of Kilner. Claire hoped as it healed, the memory faded along with the damage. Now her nerves felt shot between Kilner, Ryder and the house. She sat on the toilet, aware Ryder refused to sleep until she lay in bed. Claire pulled the towel from the rack and muffled her cries, letting go of the fear, the worry, the confusion, and her feelings.

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