Page 41 of Property of Spike

As her knees give out, I shuffle behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, holding her up.

“Riley.” My voice comes out rough, low with a warning. “Baby, I’m gonna get your son back. No matter who I have to kill to do it.”

Alex sighs. “Spike, you can’t say shit like that in front of a cop.”

I turn and glare at him, daring him to push it. “Don’t pretend you don’t agree.”

He presses his lips together, looking torn for half a second before shaking his head. “Look, I get it. I do. But if you want to take Chuck down, you need to be smart about it. No reckless moves.”

“I don’t give a fuck about smart,” I snap. “That bastard took her kid. I’ll handle this the way I see fit.”

The tension crackles like a live wire, and before I can get into it with Alex, Bones steps up, looking more on edge than I’ve seen him in a long time. His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument.

“Conversation’s over,” he says. “We need to get inside the compound. Now.”

I don’t like being told what to do, but I know he’s right. This isn’t the time or place. Chuck’s men could be watching. The longer we stand out here, the worse it gets.

“Thanks for your help today,” I say. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing, Spike. Just keep her safe. Once I release this footage to my boss, Chuck’s name is going to go on blast. She needs to be hidden.”

“She will be,” Bones says.

“Come on, baby,” I murmur, leading her toward the gate.

I feel her fingers tighten around my shirt like she needs something solid to hold onto. I don’t say anything else. There’s nothing left to say.

As we step through the gate, I throw one last glance at Alex. He’s watching us go, jaw tight, arms crossed, but I know he’s not our enemy. He wants Chuck to burn just as badly as I do.

Fine.

But I’ll be the one to light the fucking match.

Chapter Twelve

Riley

I don’t know where I’m at. I don’t know what I feel. I don’t know what to do.

I’m lost.

“Come on, Riley,” Spike says. “I need you to eat something. Anything, baby. Just, please, eat.”

Glancing down, I watch as fresh tears fall onto the sandwich.

“Throat hurts,” I admit.

The plate disappears, and in its place is a spoon filled with applesauce.

“Open up, baby,” Spike says softly. “This is easier to swallow.”

I stare at the spoon, my body heavy, my mind blank. Everything feels distant, like I’m floating outside myself, watching a life that isn’t mine.

“Riley,” Spike presses, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Just one bite.”

I don’t know why, but I open my mouth, letting him feed me. The applesauce is cold, smooth, and easy to swallow, but I barely taste it.

“There you go, baby,” he murmurs, brushing a stray piece of hair from my face. “Just a little more.”

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