RYDER: A Standalone Military Romance (Blake Security Book 1) (9 page)

              I love having a best friend who knows when to let it go. “She tells almost exactly the same story the Bransons do. The only difference was that she straight up told me Matt bought her a house and car and put a hundred grand in a bank account for her before the deal was done. It’s obvious she’s happy with the deal and not interested in getting the baby back, but if what Alicia says is true, then maybe Celia was never really in any danger to begin with.”

              But what kind of danger is Alicia in? I’d already decided before Blake asked me to stay with her that I couldn’t let this go until I found out and knew she was safe. She’d brought out the alpha male in me and I wasn’t going to be able to just walk away. “What about your other reason for being out there? How is that going?”

              He made a grunting sound. “I think I’ve finally convinced myself of something I knew all along, Dawson’s sister has no interest in meeting with me.” He left it at that and said, “Keep in touch and let me know where you two end up staying.”

              “Will do.” I hung up and went back over to the bedroom door. Alicia was zipping up her suitcase. I walked inside and said, “Would you like a ride?”

              She nodded. “Okay.” I picked up the suitcase, and she picked up her overnight bag and purse, and together we walked out of the mansion. Alicia held her head high, but her eyes were filled with tears. She’d been with Celia almost every day since her birth. It had to feel like someone was taking her own child away. 

RYDER

I drove Alicia to the address she’d given me. It was a small hotel in Lafayette—and not in the best neighborhood. I parked the car and turned off the ignition. As she reached for her door handle, I said, “Alicia, I have an apartment in the city with two bedrooms. Why don’t you just stay with me until you figure out what your plan is?”

She shook her head. “Thank you, Ryder. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

“I’m not leaving. If you stay here, I stay here.”

“Why?” she asked, obviously frustrated.

“Because you admitted to me that there are people out there who want something you have, and since I’ve seen their handiwork first hand, I know they’re not willing to stop—even at murder—to get it. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“I’m not your responsibility, and I really don’t need someone following me around, watching me.”

“This started out as a responsibility, Alicia, a job. But it’s become more than that. I like you, and even though I’m pretty sure you’re keeping a lot of things from me, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You don’t understand, Ryder. If they see you with me, then you’ll be in more danger than me. They have reason to keep me alive. You would be put in the same position Charles was in if you helped me.”

“Who are ‘they’—Alicia?” She didn’t answer me. I waited a few beats and said, “Can you at least tell me what it is they want?”

She shook her head. “No, I can’t tell you.”

I sighed. “Fine, keep your secrets and I’ll keep you safe.”

She opened the car door and over her shoulder she said, “Please just let me get my things from the trunk and then go home.” I popped the trunk and got out of the car. She was already pulling her suitcase out of the trunk. “I’ve got it,” she snapped when I tried to help her. “Go home.”

I stood next to the car and watched as she rolled her bag inside the small glass-enclosed lobby. I could see her at the counter talking to the clerk as I got back into the car.

There were a couple of guys at the end of the first row of rooms, sitting outside drinking beer. Just above them was a man and a woman who looked like they were arguing. There was no way I was going home and leaving her here—even if no one was looking for her. I looked back at the lobby in time to see her come out with what looked like a key card in one hand the handle of the suitcase in the other. I glanced at the men who were still standing at the end of the row, drinking their beer. They stopped talking and were watching her, too. That bothered me on a level that had nothing to do with her safety and everything to do with the feelings I had for her. I started to get out of the car and make my presence known just as another car squealed into the parking lot. It screeched to a stop a few feet from Alicia. She froze for a second, and then she started to run along the sidewalk away from where I was. A man jumped out of the car and ran after her. I started my car and shifted into drive with one hand as I pulled out my Glock with the other.

Saying a prayer that people would stay in their rooms, I pressed on the accelerator and headed for the sidewalk. The car jumped the small curb, and I was driving along in front of the motel doors. I saw the man grab Alicia around the waist just as I was bearing down on them. They both whipped their heads around to look at me. I hit the brakes and slammed the car into park just before I hit the wall of the next row of rooms. When I jumped out of the car, I had my own gun drawn, but I didn’t go after him. Instead, I ran toward Alicia just as the driver of the car was approaching her on foot as well. When I was about five feet from them, I took a shooting stance and yelled,  “Stop or I’ll drop you where you stand.”

I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He looked down at the gun in his hand, and within a second, the look on his face told me that he’d decided not to risk it. He pushed Alicia in my direction and took off running toward his car. Again, instead of going after him, my main goal was to get Alicia to safety. I grabbed her by the arm and half-dragged her back to my car. She was pulling her luggage the whole way. The first shot rang out as I closed her door. The second as I ran around to my side, and the one that caused a sharp, burning pain in my shoulder came just as I was climbing in behind the wheel. I didn’t bother to buckle up before I turned the wheel all the way to the right and pressed the accelerator to the floor. The car fishtailed as it jumped down off the sidewalk and the back end of it scraped into the side of the building. Bullets were still raining down on us as I took off across the parking lot. I reached over and pushed Alicia down in the seat, and only seconds later, the passenger window exploded and showered us both with big chunks of glass. I waited until we were a few blocks away to tell her, “You can sit up and put on your seatbelt.”

Alicia didn’t say a word as she sat up and silently pulled the belt across her shoulder and lap and buckled it. My shoulder was throbbing. I could feel the blood pouring out of it, but I didn’t stop until I was at least ten miles from the motel and sure no one was following us. When I pulled to the side of the road I said, “Give me your cell phone.”

She looked like she was about to ask what I wanted it for, but her eyes flit to the hole in my shoulder and she winced instead. She pulled the phone out of her pocket and handed it to me. I palmed it in my good hand and slammed it into the dash.

While I was doing that, I made a mental note to ask Blake to see if he can get copies of her phone records. He has a lot of contacts within the police department, and sometimes if it wouldn’t get them into too much trouble, he has convinced them to help us out.

“What are you doing?” Alicia was yelling at me. I slammed it again and again until it was nothing but a handful of hard plastic pieces. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?”

Once I was satisfied it was beyond operational, I put the car window down and tossed it as far as I could onto the road. Alicia was looking at me as if I’d lost my mind. “I’m destroying their link to you,” I told her.

“What do you mean?”

“We weren’t followed to that motel, Alicia. They knew exactly where to find you. They had to be tracking you through your cell phone. It’s gone now.”

She looked stunned. “They were tracking me? Do you think they’ve been tracking me all along?”

“Yes, and probably monitoring your calls too.”

“Oh my God.” She was as pale as a ghost.

“Interested in telling me your secrets now?”

She shook her head slowly and then looking at my shoulder as if she’d just noticed it she said, “We need to get you to a hospital.”

I looked down at my shoulder and pulled off my t-shirt. I wanted to scream as I lifted my arm to pull it off. Some of the blood around the wound had dried and the shirt was stuck to it. I kept a neutral face and only barely grunted though.

Even in pain, a man has to keep up appearances.

I wadded the shirt up once I had it off and pressed it into the wound. Once I’d dried up the fresh blood, I looked at it again. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

“You need to go to the hospital!”

“Fine, while I’m getting sewn up, you can explain to the police who those men are and what they want from you.” That shut her up. I tucked the t-shirt underneath my seatbelt to hold it and put the car back in drive. Once on the road and headed back toward New Orleans she said, “Where are we going?”

“Some place safe.” I had a million questions in my head, but I was sure she wasn’t going to answer them, so I just drove in silence. She sat staring out the window, watching the landscape change. As we got closer to the swamps and I turned off toward them instead of away, I saw her glance over at me out of the corner of my eye. She had to know then where I was taking her. I expected her to object again, but she stayed silent. From the main road to Granny’s road was another five miles, and it was all dirt, rocks, and bumps. She didn’t even try to stop her body from slamming into the door each time the car rocked. It was almost as if she was punishing herself for something.

As soon as we pulled into the dirt driveway, I spotted Granny on the porch. She stood up like she always does and started waving. I waved back. I had to smile—when out of the corner of my eye—I saw that Alicia raised her hand in a wave as well.

“She’s small,” Alicia said, sitting up straighter in her seat. At first glance it was what everyone noticed about Granny, but her presence was so large that once you got to know her, you almost forget that she’s barely five foot tall.

“Yeah, but she’s mighty,” I told her with a smile. I stopped the car, and Granny did her bounce down the steps and toward the car. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me shirtless and bleeding. I saw her suck in a deep breath and continue toward me. I figured I was in for a lecture as I stepped out of the car.

“Wat happened?”

“It’s okay Granny, just a little flesh wound.”

She stood on her tiptoes and pushed the t-shirt I was holding over it out of the way. Her nose crinkled up and I saw her shudder. Not much of anything intimidates Granny, but she’s always hated the sight of my blood. Suddenly realizing she was letting her softer side show, she pointed her finger up at me and said, “Go on in there and clean it up with peroxide. I’ll be in to take a look at it directly. If it’s more than “a flesh wound” as you say it is your goin’ ta da hospital and I’ll have none of your fancy backtalk.”

I chuckled. “Okay Granny.” My shoulder was throbbing, and what I really wanted was a shot of whiskey, or at the very least a handful of Ibuprofen. Granny wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me in that way that squeezes the breath out of me in spite of my wounded shoulder. I kissed the top of her little head, and when she let me go and stepped back, she noticed Alicia stepping out of the car. “Granny, this is Alicia Melua.”

Granny smiled broadly and went around to welcome her. I should have warned Alicia, I guess. She offered out her hand, and Granny ignored it and wrapped her up in the same crushing hug she gave me. When she let go, Alicia looked like she was trying to catch her breath.

“So good ta meet you,” Granny told her.

Alicia smiled. “It’s good to meet you too, ma’am.”

Granny cackled. “Je vous remercie! Listen to that pretty accent. Where ya from, beauté?”

“Russia, ma’am.”

“You a long way from home. Call me Granny like the rest of ‘em does.” She looked at me and said, “You shoulda told me you was bringin’ company. I woulda cooked somethin’ up for lunch. And didn’t I tell ya to go wash that up?”

As if she would have answered the phone if I’d called first. I resisted rolling my eyes and said, “I’m sorry Granny, I should have told you, and I’m going.”

“I’m so sorry,” Alicia said. “I don’t mean to impose.”

Granny waved a palm at her and then took her by the hand. “Any friend of cher’s is a friend of mine and always welcome. Come on, beauté. We can find somethin’ to feed ya.” Alicia looked at me, and I nodded and winked. She let Granny take her hand and lead her up on the porch and into the house.

Granny set her up at the table while I made my way to the bathroom. Granny made her own salves; she had potions for everything. I opened the medicine cabinet and had to dig through them all before I found the peroxide. I wet a clean cloth with warm water and held it against the wound for several seconds. Once the dried blood was loosened up it started to ooze again while I cleaned it. The opening was only about half an inch wide and it hadn’t penetrated into the muscle. Once I had it clean and dry, I fished around again trying to decide what to put on it.

“I got that.” Granny came into the room and brushed me out of the way with her little hand. She reached up and took one of the jars out of the cabinet. “Sit.” I sat down on the edge of the tub, and she took the cloth I was using, wet it, poured peroxide on it, and cleaned the wound again. She dried it and opened the jar. Using a wooden stick that looked like a tongue depressor, she began applying the cold salve to my skin.

“What’s in that?”

“Never you mind. It’ll have you healed up in no time. We hafta keep an eye on it though and make sure you don’t get it infected. What mess you got yourself into?”

“Just work, Granny.”

“It got anything to do with that beauté in there?”

“She needs my help.”

“I can see dat. Dat girl got a troubled soul. I can also see dat her problem ain’t all you’re interested in.”

I grinned. “What makes you think that?”

“I got eyes, and I see dat look you got in yours every time you fell for a pretty girl since you were seven. I get a good feeling about dis one, cher. But I feel bad mojo around her. Be careful of dat, case the next bullet hits something ain’t got so much meat on it.”

Chuckling I said, “I will, Granny. Would it be okay if Alicia and I stayed here for a while?”

She finished up with the salve and pulled some white gauze and tape out of the cabinet. As she bandaged me she said, “Dis your home, cher; it always will be. You keep whoever you want here.” She finished up and asked, “She got bags in the car?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You go get ‘em and put ‘em in the back bedroom. Ain’t so much sun there early in the morning.”

“Okay, thanks Granny.” Her earlier wince was as much sympathy as I was going to get over my shoulder. My whole life, whenever I got hurt, she’d comfort me for as long as it took to clean and treat the wound and then she’d say,
“Suck it up, cher.”