Page 65 of Redemption

VICTORIA: It’s about that time. Heading back home today.

The text should’ve been a great one, something he should go high five her over, but he wanted to mope.

Trace walked up next to him and punched him in the shoulder. What was it with people hitting him right now?

“Why ya standing there, asshole? You look like your dog died.”

“Bugger off.” He walked off, ignoring Trace’s what-the-fuck grin.

RYDER: Not without me swinging over there.

VICTORIA: I wouldn’t leave without saying bye.

RYDER: Good.

VICTORIA: I’m going to miss you. You know that?

The words hit him in the chest. Yeah, she was someone he’d miss too. Hanging with her since Russia hadn’t been easy, knowing what she’d been through, but it’d been quite the experience.

RYDER: That’s what good sex does. Don’t worry, love. You’ll be fine.

VICTORIA: I know.

VICTORIA: BTW, thanks.

RYDER: For the good sex? No prob.

VICTORIA: For everything. <3 You really are one in a million.

RYDER: Not too many badass warrior women out there. See you soon.

He read up, and it seemed casual.It wascasual, but as he dropped his phone into the bag and pushed into the locker room, it also seemed like it sucked.

Trace came in behind him as Javier and Colin headed back out.

“Brock said get your Aussie ass upstairs in ten.” Javier knocked the door open.

“I gotta bail.”

Javier stopped at the door, keeping it halfway open, and Colin nearly ran into him. “What’s up with people stopping today?”

“I’ve got a thing.” He wasn’t getting into details with anyone. Hell, he didn’t know how to explain the details about Victoria with anyone anyway.

Trace grumble-laughed. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

Brock walked around the corner, probably coming out from the back office, and it wasn’t as if Ryder wanted an audience when he told his boss he was going to bail.

“Ryder.” Brock lifted his chin. “You’re done for the day. Get out of here.”

Uh…“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to see your face for the rest of the day. Go.” Brock kept moving, pushing past Javier without a backward glance. “The rest of you assholes, the clock is ticking. T-minus seven minutes. War room.”

As soon as Brock had cleared, all eyes jumped to him.

“I have no fucking idea,” he lied then hustled to the shower for a quick rinse off. He didn’t want to miss one minute of seeing her for the last time and wouldn’t show up sweat-drenched. His chest ached, and if there was one thing he hated, it was goodbye.

Actually, three things: being helpless, acting helpless, and goodbyes.

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