The Hurricane (18 page)

“Fuck, ok,” Ryker responded, and ended the call, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He let out a loud sigh.

“What’s next Saturday?” I asked. I didn’t care that he knew I listened to his conversation; I needed to know what was going on with him.

“I have to go to Austin,” he said as he stared over my shoulder.

“For what? Is everything ok?” I asked. I didn’t want to remind him that my parents were coming into town then, and we had already made plans on them meeting. But I suddenly felt defensive, and a little angry, that he was so determined to shut me out. I climbed off his lap and sat next to him, my arms crossed over my chest, feeling the need to protect my heart. He stood to his feet, keeping his back to me, as he put his hands on his head.

“Ryker, please?” I begged. I needed to know what the hell was going on. This wasn’t the Ryker I knew. This man was cold and distant, and I didn’t like it, not one bit.

“I have a fight,” he said without turning around.

“What?” I choked out, leaping to my feet, standing behind him.

“You’re fighting that dickhead from the restaurant? I don’t understand,” I said, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat.

“It’s something I have to do,” he said flatly, staring at the ceiling, and rolling his neck.

“You put that behind you, remember?”

“I know,” he said.

“You told me that lifestyle was dangerous. It’s illegal, Ryker, don’t do this!” I begged, putting my hand on his back, but he was like a stone wall. Cold.

“I don’t have a choice, Natalie,” he said as he whipped around to face me, grabbing my face with his cold hands, his eyes so full of pain. I backed away from him, suddenly feeling like I couldn’t catch my breath.

“You always have a choice, Ryker. I can’t . . . please don’t do this,” I continued to beg him.

Brooklyn.

Brooklyn.

Brooklyn.

“I have to do this,” he said staring down at me, his eyes burning through my soul.

“No you don’t,” I said, my lips quivering, shaking my head, and quickly brushing away the tear that fell.

“I’m fighting,” he said. His decision was made.

Two words that would destroy us.

“Please go,” I whispered, turning my back to him this time. I didn’t want him to see the tears falling from my eyes. I couldn’t stop them.

“Natalie,” he whispered.

“Please,” I said quietly, my throat feeling as if it were about to close up.

I heard his footsteps fade away, and the door opened and then closed quietly. I walked over to the front door, placing my cheek against it, listening to the roar of his truck until I couldn’t hear it anymore. I slid down the door, landing on my ass, and then curling my knees against my chest.

I can’t be with him. I knew this. He chose a world that I couldn’t expose Brooklyn to. As much as I cared for Ryker, Brooklyn was my top priority. I couldn’t allow her to be involved in that world. I had to protect her. That was my job. He knew I couldn’t be with him if he got back into that lifestyle. Why didn’t he care enough? Why did he choose that world over me? Over us?

I let the tears fall. I couldn’t control them, anyway. I thought I knew him. I did, didn’t I? He was so great, and did all the right things. He said all the right things. I let him in. I never let anyone in. How could I be so stupid? Brooklyn was going to be devastated. My chest felt tight and I felt like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe. I grabbed my chest, begging my heart not to hurt. Begging the pain to go away.

I finally pulled myself off the floor and went to the couch. I could still smell him on the cushion, which tightened the knot in my stomach. I felt like vomiting, but I couldn’t move. So I just curled into a ball and felt the pain wash over me, cover me, consume me.

How could he choose that world over us?

Son of a bitch.

He chose.

Numb

The sound of a loud buzzing noise and metal slamming together jerked me awake. What the fuck? Where am I?

“Hamilton! Let’s go!” I heard a deep voice yell my name. I wanted to fucking punch him, my head was pounding.

“Hamilton!” he repeated, and I tried opening my eyes, everything so fucking bright. I finally pried them open and took in my surroundings. Bits and pieces of last night running through my mind. How the fuck did I end up in a jail cell? I stood to my feet and looked down at the orange jump suit I was wearing.

Fuck.

“You’re more than welcome to stay if you want,” the cop said with a laugh as he propped his arm on the opened bars.

“No thanks,” I mumbled as I walked past him, unsure of where to go.

“Your belongings are in that plastic bag, get changed, then I’ll buzz you out the door.” he said, shaking his head at me, and closing the bars behind me.

A few minutes later, I walked through the doors into the blinding sun and saw Cain standing near a bench a few feet away.

“How did you know I was here?” I said as I looked around, not even knowing how I got here.

“Connection in the department,” he said. No surprise there.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You mean getting in a bar fight and putting the bouncer in the hospital? Or kicking out the headlight of a cop car while you were already handcuffed?” He said with a deep chuckle.

“Shit, I’m gonna get put on fucking probation again,” I mumbled, vaguely remembering both of those incidences, at the mention of them. My temper had gotten me in trouble in my early twenties, but I had really worked on keeping that shit under control outside of my fights.

“Nah, you wouldn’t believe what people forget about when money is thrown in their face,” he said with a smirk.

“Thanks man,” I said, hating that Cain had to bail me out of my shit.

“Don’t thank me, I’m taking my cut back,” he laughed as he started his Escalade.

“Fair,” I mumbled.

“What caused all this?” he asked.

“I told Natalie I was fighting, and she’s done with me,” I said, rubbing my hands over my forehead, trying to erase the memory of the look on her face when I told her.

“How did Johnson convince you?” he asked. My eyes darted to Cain, knowing I was about to beat the hell out of him if he started this shit.

“Brother, I know you. He did something to make you decide to fight. What was it?”

“This,” I said pulling the folded up picture from my back pocket and showing him.

“What the fuck? He’s watching them,” he said, his jaw tightening with his words.

“He’s going to pay,” I said, my body getting tense again, causing my throbbing headache to escalate.

“Absolutely,” he replied.

We drove in silence for a few minutes as the choppy memories from last night started coming back to me. As soon as I left Natalie’s, I stopped and grabbed a bottle of Jack, then was determined to make my way to Austin to find Johnson. I remembered running out of liquor and stopping at the shitty bar outside of town. I remembered the bartender cutting me off, so I jumped the bar to get it myself. Fuck, I was being a dick. That’s when the bouncer decided to intervene. The rest was kind of a blank. Unfortunately, that’s what happens when I get pissed off. I go crazy and black out. It scared me sometimes, knowing that I lose control. I didn’t want to be like that.

Natalie.

Fuck, the look on her face when I told her I was fighting. I broke her. She’s been through so much in her life, and I added to her pain. I wanted to explain why I was fighting, but I couldn’t. It would scare her and make everything worse. At least this way, she just hated me. She didn’t have to add fear on top of it. They were both going to hate me.

She thinks I just want to fight. She doesn’t understand I need to protect them from bad things, bad people. But ending up in a jail cell, with hardly any memory of the night before, probably puts me on the list with the bad people. She deserves better than me. They both do. But I would still protect them; until my last fucking breath, I would protect them.

“You need to focus, Ryker,” Cain said, interrupting my thoughts.

“What?” I asked, staring at him.

“Stay out of the bars, and train. Take all that fucking aggression out on Johnson.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious Ryker. You need to spend every second you’re not working in the gym.” He was being my coach now. Fuck.

“Dude. I know what I’m doing,” I said to him, staring a fucking hole through the side of his head.

“Don’t let him get in your head; that’s when you will fuck up,” he said as he glanced in my direction, making his way through Austin morning traffic.

“I won’t. I’m going to fuck his world up, Cain.”

“There’s the Hurricane,” Cain said as he patted my shoulder.

“Fuck you, Cain,” I grumbled, rubbing my shoulders, the tension creeping up to my throbbing head.

“You don’t think she will forgive you? Get over it?” he asked.

“Nah, she knows too much about it.”

“Well, that was a mistake then, brother.”

“Not now,” I said, trying to keep myself calm. But he was probably right. I should have never let Natalie know how fucked up the game could be.

“I need you to make sure she’s protected,” I said, and stared at him.

“Done.”

“But I really think Johnson is just running his mouth,” he said after a few seconds.

“That’s not a chance I’m willing to take,” I said.

“Understood.”

We pulled into Crave and I saw my truck parked in the almost empty lot. I felt my pockets, realizing I didn’t have my keys.

Fuck.

Cain opened the console between us and handed me my keys.

“Thanks bro,” I said as we pulled up next to my truck.

“Get some rest, then get to the gym,” he said as I opened the door and climbed out of his SUV.

“But take a shower first, you smell like a fucking brewery.” He chuckled.

“Fuck you,” I said with a smirk, and slammed the door.

He pissed me off sometimes, but he always wanted what was best for me. He was a good brother, even if he needed to get punched in the mouth every once in a while.

Broken