Kailee looks at me with worry in her eye. “Are you sure about this?” she whispers, her lips and warm breath tickling my ear. “Can we trust Marco?”
“Marco helped me find you; he made it possible for me to find you. We can trust him,” I say with absolute confidence.
She nods weakly, leaning into me and wrapping her arm around mine. “Hey.” I lean forward a little, touching the shoulder of the young girl in front. “How are you holding up?” I ask, concerned by her silence. She spins in her seat, turning and looking back and forth between me and Kailee.
“Thank you for getting me out of there.” She sniffles as soundless tears stream down her face.
“Do you have any family, somewhere to go?”
“Yes, my parents think I’m with a friend,” she explains. “I met Nick online in a chat room. He told me he was fifteen, and we started an online relationship. We’d been talking for weeks, and the more we talked, the closer we became. I had no idea he was a grown man; the picture he had was a really cute boy who looked a similar age to me. So we arranged to meet, and he said that I could stop at his house because his parents were out of town. We arranged to meet outside our local park. I waited. I didn’t think he was going to show, and when he did, I realized what a big mistake I’d made.” The tears stream down her face faster as she battles to keep talking through the emotion of what happened. “When he pulled up beside me and revealed he was the ‘real’ Nick, I made a run for it. But he chased me, knocking me to the ground, gagged me, and dragged me to his car.”
“Oh, Layla, I’m so sorry.” Kailee soothes, reaching forward and wiping the tears from her cheek.
“He did things to me,” she chokes out. “He hurt me, Kailee.” She sobs uncontrollably, her whole body shaking violently.
“Stop the fucking car,” I shout louder than intended.
Aston slams on the brakes, the car skidding to a stop. I open the car door, racing out to get some fresh air. I need a fucking smoke, and this young girl needs Kailee more than I do right now.
“Ryder,” Kailee calls to me from inside the car. I don’t answer as I reach for the front passenger seat. “Please sit in the back with Kailee,” I say to the young girl whose face is a mess. She nods, stepping out and falling into Kailee’s arms in the backseat. I light up a smoke, watching as she rocks her back and forth, comforting her as she mumbles through her cries. I step closer to the car, taking one last hit of my smoke. I throw the butt on the ground then climb in and close the door behind me. I can’t resist glancing over my shoulder. I can’t fucking deny that this girl owns my heart, and I just hope and pray she wants me as much as I want her. No, scrap that; I don’t want her—I need her. My body has craved her since she stepped onto the trailer park soil. It was like a switch flicked inside, like the strike of a fucking match, igniting the fire deep within my dark soul. I will fight to the last breath for this girl. I will take a thousand bullets to protect the girl who holds my heart in her hands.
I lean back into my seat, the motion of the car rocks my body, and I can’t help the feeling of exhaustion that washes over me. I glance down at my leg, the pain stinging like a fucking bitch. I totally downplayed the whole thing to Kailee, but in truth, I’m worried that bullet may have done some damage. I reach into the pocket of my jeans and pull out my cell phone. I lick my dry lips, checking through the list of notifications. Missed calls and texts—all from Marco. Not one from my brother. It worries me more than I will ever let on. If there’s any truth in what he says, he will want his revenge.
I find Marco’s number in my contacts then hit dial. The phone rings, and he answers breathlessly.
“Ryder.” His voice is fueled by panic. “Talk to me… What’s happened?”
“Hey,” I say with a croak, my throat suddenly feeling drier than I’d realized. I cough lightly, trying to clear my throat.
“What the fuck, man. Talk to me…” His words trail off.
“Eric’s dead,” I blurt out.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbles down the receiver. “What about Jax?” His words are said softly as if he’s scared to ask the damn question.
“He’s alive… for now,” I growl.
“Don’t do this, Ryder. Don’t go to war with your brother. You two have been inseparable since you were young boys; you’re the dream team.”
“Were,” I correct him. “He caused this war the minute he laid his hands on pip. Anyway, he’s fucking pissed…”
“Because of Eric,” he interrupts.
“Yeah, some fucking shit about him being our father. Did you know about this bullshit rumor?” I ask, knowing if anyone knows, he does. I never held much regard for that piece of shit we called a father. The man who beat my mother; the man who was trying to rape my brother. The motherfucker I watched die of heart failure and felt absolutely nothing for.
Oh, I did feel one thing.
Relief.
Like a weight lifted from our shoulders. But the whole damn thing fucked with Jax’s head. He spiraled into a life of crime, a life where he had to prove to the world he wasn’t the fucking pussy our father had made out he was. Only now, he tells me he wasn’t our flesh and blood after all.
“I was sworn to secrecy. If I had any choice in the matter, I would have told you right away.” He’s stuttering and rushing his words. I can tell he’s nervous. Despite being the clever mastermind, Marco hides behind his technology and bodyguards.
I hum in response. I don’t know what to say or how to feel. All I know is that I will ask Mom. Either way, they were both a waste of air. I just can’t believe he would have kept a secret like this from me.
“I hear you’ve arranged a room at a motel. Tell me one thing…”
“Anything,” he replies almost immediately.
“Are we safe? Because I’m not stepping a foot in that place until I know where you stand, and what your fucking intentions are.” Pip questioning Marco’s intentions got me thinking.
There’s every chance he could be in on this with my brother. Part of me wants to trust him, but I’m just not sure who the fuck I can trust anymore.
“I said I would help. Hell, you didn’t give me any choice.” He nervously chuckles down the phone. “I can’t get in the middle of this feud, Ryder. You need to find a way to figure this out, to make amends.”
“Make amends!” I roar. “He stole the only girl who has ever meant anything to me to sell her at some sleazy human fucking cattle market.” I chuckle sarcastically. “I’m not sure there is any coming back from that, do you?”
“I really don’t think it’s as bad as you think. It’s usually businessmen like myself looking for a silent worker. Someone who can’t report to the outside what happens on the inside.”
“Fuck you, Marco. Don’t ever try to justify that motherfucking bullshit to me. I ain’t buying, got it?”
“Got it,” he mumbles, clearing his throat. “Oh, and Ryder, just so you know, I deactivated all your passes to the house. Yours and Jaxon’s. Don’t bring your war to my house. Got it?”
“Fine,” I say, shaking my head. “These girls need clothes. Oh, and I need a motherfucking medic.”
“I guessed as much. I’ll get one there immediately.” He sighs so loudly I pull the phone away from my ear. “Hold up.” He pauses once more. “Girls? As in plural?”
“Yes,” I say, checking over my shoulder. Layla’s head rests on Kailee’s shoulder, but Kailee’s eyes are fixed on me. I shoot her a quick sideways smile.
“Oh, fuck. How many?”
“Just the one. Man, she’s like fifteen and so frightened. Poor fucker has been through it, all right,” I say, lowering my voice, hoping the girl can’t hear me.
“Jeez.” He breathes noisily down the phone. “Does she have anyone… uh, like family?”
“Yes,” I reply quietly. “We’ll make sure she’s okay until the morning then drop her at the nearest police station.”
“Good,” he replies. “Ryder. You’re a good man. D
on’t let anyone tell you any different.”
“Marco…” I pause.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck off.” I chuckle before ending the call.
Kailee
We finally pull up outside the motel. Aston cuts the engine, jumping out of the car and heading to the trunk. He returns, opening the door to the rear of the vehicle and handing me a blanket.
“Here.” He offers the blanket with a smile. “Cover the girl with this. Do you need me to carry her inside?”
I look down at Layla, and she’s sleeping so soundly, it makes me wonder when she last slept. I shake my head, not wanting to scare her any more than she already has been. I gently shake her arm, whispering her name.
“Layla,” I say so quietly my voice is barely audible. “We are here. We’re at the motel.” Her eyes fly open, and her head whips back and forth as she tries to make out her surroundings. “It’s okay,” I placate. “You’re safe now.” I stroke the top of her head to soothe her. She blinks harshly, nodding when she looks through the window and notices the motel sign. I look up at Aston who is still bent down with his head inside the car.
“How is he?” I ask, nodding my head forward in the direction of Ryder. He’d pretty much slept the whole way since he ended his call with Marco. Unlike me. I’ve barely slept. A million and one thoughts race through my mind about what happened and about my father. How could the bastard do something like this to me? What if it isn’t true? What if Jax made up the whole thing, and he’s actually looking for me. I need to know the truth, but for now, I need to rest. My body is weary, my mind even worse.
“I’ll wake him,” Aston says, stepping back and opening the front passenger door. He rests his arm on Ryder's shoulder, and I watch as his whole body jolts suddenly. In the blink of an eye, Ryder has a hand grasping Aston’s neck tightly. Aston tries to fight the grip; both his hands work to try to loosen the grip around his neck. I part from Layla, reaching forward, shouting his name repeatedly.
“Ryder, stop,” I say, pulling on his arm. The low lighting from outside highlights the dark look on Ryder’s face, but I’m not sure whether he’s completely conscious of what he’s doing.
“Ryder,” I shout a little louder, and his hand instantaneously loosens his grip. His head whips to the side as he looks at me. I rest between the two front seats; his eyes are wide, and his mouth is slack. He looks back at Aston who is coughing, holding his neck as he attempts to take deep breaths. His head twists, and his eyes are on me again.
“Shit,” he says, dragging his hands down his face. “I’m so sorry, man.” He pulls himself up, his hands gripping the frame of the open door. “Aston, man, I’m so fucking sorry. I thought you were Jax. I had a bad dream.” He holds out his hand. Aston takes it, and Ryder hobbles closer, pulling him in for a man hug. A gut-wrenching pain hits me deep in the pit of my stomach. Ryder is having nightmares about Jax already.
“I’m good.” Aston, smiles warily, patting Ryder on the back. “How’s the leg, man?”
“I’m not sure,” Ryder answers.
I step back, pulling the jacket tighter as the cool night air blows against my barely covered skin. I hop out of the car and straight over to Ryder. “Are you okay? Shouldn’t we get you to a hospital?” I rest my hand on his arm, concerned about how bad is injury is.
“It’s good. Marco is sending someone. Hospital isn’t an option,” he murmurs.
“Why?” I ask with concern. “I can’t lose you, Ryder,” I say with total honesty. And it was the truth. Right now, he’s all I’ve got, and I’m pretty sure he’s all I need.
“Too many fucking questions will be asked, pip…”
“But what if you get an infection? Or have some sort of internal damage?” I say with a sigh. “That could be a lot worse than a few questions from the police.”
He spins on the spot, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. My eyes focus on that grin.
“What?” I say with a chuckle, confused by his reaction.
“I’m just surprised you fucking care so much,” he says, wrapping his muscular forearm around my small waist and pulling me to him. I let out a little shriek as his gesture takes me by surprise.
He drops his head, rubbing the tip of his nose against mine delicately.
“Of course, I care,” I say in a hushed voice; my throat suddenly dry as I say those words out loud.
“Fuck,” he quietly growls. “Let’s get inside before I do something I shouldn’t.”
A wave of heat sears through me at the intention and intensity of his words. I’d fought my attraction to Ryder. Scared by his aggressiveness, I fell for what I thought was his brother’s softer side instead. Only to find that wasn’t the case at all. It wasn’t a softer side; it was manipulation. He made me fall into his web of lies; I believed he actually liked me, and he got close to me just so he could screw me over. I feel so stupid for thinking he really liked me. I feel stupid for fighting my attraction to Ryder. And judging him. I saw what I wanted to see. I didn’t look deep enough because if I had, I would have seen the real Ryder. The one who risked his own life to save mine. The one who hides a big heart behind a scary pretense. I shiver as the thought of what might have been flashing through my mind.
He takes my hand in his, linking them together. We walk to the entrance of the dingy looking, two-story motel. The partially broken neon sign outside flashes the words Motel. Glancing back, I see Aston helping Layla on the way in. I open the door, allowing Ryder to step in before me. I can tell by the look on his face that he’s trying to hide his discomfort. His face is that ashen color, and despite his dismissal, I know he’s suffering. I watch as he struggles over to the small reception desk. The smell of the place hits my senses as we make our way further inside. It’s a musty combination of stale perfume and years of cigarette smoke. I watch as Ryder leans through the small hatch, speaking to the middle-aged woman sitting on the other side. I look back, holding my arm out to Layla who steps into my embrace. I glance upward, smiling at Aston.
“Thank you for everything,” I say to him.
“You don’t need to thank me. I’m just doing what I’m paid to,” he answers, his voice monotone, his lips pulling together in a tight line as he attempts to smile.
“Right,” I say, slowly nodding my head and not really knowing how to answer that. “How’s the, um, neck,” I say, loosely waving my finger to his neck.
“Fine,” he mumbles, narrowing his eyes at me a little. I can’t help but chuckle inwardly at Mr. Personality.
“How are you holding up?” I ask, looking at Layla. Her pretty face is a mess. She has redness around her eyes and nose from all the crying she’s done.
“I’m fine, honestly,” she says with a little sniffle. Her body shakes as she crosses her arms in an attempt to keep warm.
“Let’s hope the rooms have heat,” I say with a little wink, and her sad face offers me a small smile.
“I can’t stop shaking,” she whispers to me. I pull back, linking my arm through hers.
“It will get better. I promise,” I say, hoping my words hold some truth.
“I’m just so very thankful we made it out of there. That I’ll get to see my friends and family again. Something I thought I’d lost forever. I just don’t know that my life will ever be the same again.”
“You have your family and friends. They will help you through this; I’m sure of it.” I try to reassure her. And she is lucky. If there was one person I’d want here with me right now, it would be my mom.
“It might never be the same,” I say, breaking away from my internal thoughts, “but live your life. Make every second count. You’re strong, Layla. Don’t let what happened break you. Take the broken pieces and make you a stronger version of yourself.”
“I never thought of it like that,” she mumbles; her feet scuff the floor as she fidgets nervously. Her head slowly lifts, her face less tense, and her smile a little wider.
I feel a hand on my lower back, which catches my
attention. I turn to see Ryder’s eyes burning into me. “Ready?” he asks.
I answer silently with a slow nod of my head. I look down, noticing he has three keys, each with a well-worn brown tag. He turns, handing one to Aston then another to Layla. Her eyes widen, and the look of fear appears on her face. I look back and forth between them and see that he recognizes it too.
“Don’t worry,” he says calmly, “it’s a connecting room. We are just on the other side should you need us.” He rests his broad hand on her tiny shoulder.
“Thank you,” she croaks out.
“Us?” I ask, interjecting. “What? We’re sharing?”
“You fucking betcha,” he almost sings. He steps closer, his mouth so close to my ear. “If you think I’m letting you out of my sight, you can fucking think again.”
I tremble. The effect of his words on me is unexpected. His words are a turn-on, and as I lock onto his hungry, lust filled eyes, I swallow down hard as the excitement grows between my legs.
“Follow me,” says the receptionist, snapping me from my thoughts.
We step out of the way and allow her past, back out into the courtyard. “This way,” she instructs thrusting her hand forward. She shuffles her feet on the floor as she leads us to our rooms. She stops just a few feet away from the entrance. “This is your single room,” she says thrusting her thumb over her shoulder at the door marked 113. Your adjoining rooms are just this way.” We follow her a little farther before she stops outside number 140 and 141.
“This is you,” she rushes out. “I will send your visitor to you the moment he gets here,” she says.
Ryder thanks her before pushing the key in the lock. She turns and starts shuffling back down to the reception area.
I spend an hour or so with Layla in her room. We spend some time talking about what will happen in the morning and going over what she should and shouldn’t say to the police. Layla is a smart girl and getting her home is my main priority, but for now, she needs to rest. I say my good night and wander back to the adjoining room where Ryder is. The medic that Marco sent has been seeing to his leg, and I’m just hoping there isn’t anything to worry about.
The edge of life: Official cover - coming soon Page 20
