Jolie
Atlanta, GA
Tuesday–Friday
I woke the next morning wrapped in Ryder’s arms. He’d walked me to my room the night before and then slipped in bed beside me. I hadn’t argued or complained. It had been days since I’d slept that well. Actually, I wasn’t sure I’d ever slept so well in my life.
Ryder’s touch soothed me.
“Good morning, solnyshko.”
“Morning. Want to tell me what that means?”
I turned to face him, his arms never leaving me. “It means small sun.” He kissed my nose. “You are the brightest light in my life. My personal sun.”
It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. I knelt on my knees and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. I brought my lips to his, throwing myself into the kiss with as much abandon as I could. Ryder steadied me, tempering his response. He pulled away slightly, murmuring against my lips.
“Your head.”
“Barely hurts.”
“Well, in that case…”
He laid me down and covered me with his body. His touch was tender and gentle and painfully slow. My hands traced his bare chest—soft, buttery leather stretched over steel. The stubble of his jaw rasped against my skin as he moved his way down my neck to the base of my throat.
And then my stomach growled, ruining the moment.
Ryder laughed, his forehead touching mine.
“Let’s feed you.”
“No—I can wait.” I tried pulling him back down to my mouth, but he resisted, smiling against my lips.
“We have time. There’s no rush.”
Since Ryder wasn’t going to see reason, I hopped off the bed and went to freshen up. I popped two ibuprofen to ward off the nagging ache in my head, and when I opened the door, my room was empty.
Ryder must have gone to his room. Only, I found him in the kitchen, whisking eggs in a bowl and laying out bacon to fry.
“Cooking me breakfast, huh?”
“I figure you deserve it after everything you’ve been through.”
I shrugged and took a stool at the bar. “Perhaps.”
Ryder smirked and poured the eggs into the pan. His chest was still bare, his thin cotton pajama pants riding low on his hips. He was stunningly beautiful. His hair was a bit lighter, the dye beginning to fade. I’d be glad when it was back to his normal color. At least he’d been able to drop the contacts so I could peer into the blue depths of his eyes again.
I checked the clock and saw that it was after nine.
“Don’t we need to update the team about last night?”
“Yeah, but Levi told us to get some rest. I texted him to let him know we’d be over around ten.”
Breakfast was delicious. I couldn’t decide if it was especially tasty or if I was just extremely hungry. Either way, I ate like a teenage boy.
After we ate, Ryder and I went to our separate rooms and dressed for the meeting. We walked over hand in hand, and I wondered at the change in him. Was this new Ryder here to stay? Or would he put up the walls again as soon as he was sure I was okay?
The team was just gathering, and all heads looked up as we entered the room.
“How are you feeling, Jolie?” Levi came around the conference-room table and gave me a hug. The rest of the guys lined up to greet me, each one squeezing me with their big, burly arms. It was all a little overwhelming and a lot emotional. I blinked away the wetness in my eyes and kept my gaze on the floor.
“I’m fine, you guys. Really.”
“Okay, let’s get down to business. Jolie, can you start, and tell me what happened?” Levi started the meeting with his usual poise and control, his hands steepled together on the table in front of him.
“It had been awhile, and the guys were still in the bar. I was careless. I hadn’t seen the black sedan in the shadows. I’m not sure if it was there when we arrived or if it pulled up quietly with its lights off sometime afterwards.” I was still kicking myself for not being more careful.
“I’d looked inside the door of the bar, but I couldn’t see in. I could, however, hear fighting. I walked around the back alley to see if I could peer in one of the windows and saw the brawl taking place. They boxed me in. Rubio and a guy named Santos.”
“Santos. As in saint?” Oscar asked, one brow raised not necessarily in humor—maybe incredulity was more like it.
“Exactly. The Vicar. The Angel. The Saint. All religious roles. All messengers of God in some way.”
“They sure think a lot of themselves.” Ryder shook his head as he leaned back in his seat.
“There were two other guys with them. Russians, I believe. They jumped me, but I fought back. The first guy wasn’t expecting that. And the second guy just wasn’t a fighter. I took them both down.”
The guys erupted in laughter and hoots.
“Did you shoot them?” Levi asked, his face grim.
“No. That was Angel who shot them.”
“Got it. I got a call this morning from Washington. Said he’d heard a report of two Russian Mafia guys who had been shot outside the bar. Wanted to know if it was us.”
“Angel was pissed that they were taken down by a woman.”
“Typical. Go on.”
“Anyway, after that I ran. Santos caught up with me and marched me to the car. I was the backup, though, and the thought of you guys in there with no one to warn you if they launched a secondary attack of some sort made me sick to my stomach. So, I fought back.” I left out that it was the thought of something terrible happening to Ryder that had me fighting like a tomcat.
“And nearly got yourself killed. What were you thinking?”
Ryder was so infuriating. All he could see was the danger I was in; he could never see that I was doing my job.
“The exact same thing you’d be thinking if the roles were reversed.” I leveled a glare at him, and he lifted his hands.
“I saw the rest. Saw you headbutt Santos. Saw Angel aim his gun at you and fire. I couldn’t get to you fast enough.”
I reached for his hand under the table and looped my fingers through his.
“And yet, somehow you saved me. Angel said that Vicario wanted me. And Santos mentioned that when The Vicar was done with me, I’d beg for mercy. Very similar words they used with Chrissy.”
Ryder squeezed my hand tightly, and I knew he was thinking of what would have happened had he not gotten to me in time. I was thinking the same thing.
“So, you think they were planning to experiment on you, like they were those other women?” Levi’s voice was gentler as he addressed the future Vicario had laid out for me.
I nodded, not trusting my voice to confirm the nightmarish fears that were looping through my brain. So close. I’d been so close to that terror.
“Anything else we should know?”
“I don’t think so. What happened with Nikolai?”
“It was a trap. For you. He said Vicario had asked for you specifically. Nikolai confirmed Johnson’s involvement and that Igor is Ivan Dmitriev’s brother. Nikolai’s nephew. I never met him since he was away in the Russian Army at the time. He has a score to settle, it seems.”
“So, the fights were just a ploy so Igor could get his hands on you?”
“Seems like it. But like Nikolai, Igor enjoys playing with his prey. It’s all a part of the game to them. Toying with us.”
“If we know our cover is blown and what Igor has planned for you, why in the world would you fight him?” It didn’t make sense to me. Why would Ryder put himself at risk like that?
“Because if I don’t show up and go to him, they’ll come to me. I can’t handle what might happen to you or anyone else I care about.”
“We don’t need your protection, man. We can handle ourselves,” Cruz assured him.
“I won’t have another of my brothers fall due to this guy. I have a score to settle as well. Ivan killed Nina. Igor killed Derrick. They’re responsible for those women. No—it ends Saturday night.”
The idea that Ryder could be killed nearly undid me. I didn’t want to be there, helpless, watching while Igor snuffed the life out of him. And yet at the same time, I understood his need for righting the wrongs Igor had done.
“We’ll all be there. If things get out of hand, we will step in. Plus, I have a feeling all the mice might come out to play that night. We can take them all out in one fell swoop.” Levi gave me a sharp nod, and I knew he meant that I’d be there too, to help. Good. At least they wouldn’t keep me from going.
“It’s of utmost importance that you train well this week. You’re going to need to fight dirty. We need to scope out the venue. Any word where it will be held?”
The grand finale fight was held a week after the last one, giving all the fighters a few days to recover, but not enough to completely be on their A-game. The hype was half the fun, according to Ryder, and the finale fights were always more brutal. The thought of them being worse than what I’d already witnessed sent shivers up my spine.
Ryder rattled off an address, and Levi put it in the computer program and then brought up an image on the screen.
“Looks like an old building of sorts.”
“Yeah—it’s a rooftop fight. These old buildings are built without barriers on top to keep people from going over. It adds a sense of danger to the event.”
My stomach churned. In less than a week’s time, Ryder would be facing the fight of his life. I could lose him before I even had him.
The guys talked over the details a little more, but I tuned them out. All I could think about was Ryder dying on Saturday before we’d even had time together.
When we left, Ryder took my hand in his again and pulled me towards the front door. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
He opened the door for me, and I sat down in the Charger’s vinyl seat. Ryder drove us out to one of Atlanta’s many parks. He parked the car and rushed around to my side to open the door. I wasn’t sure why he was making such a performance. I was perfectly capable of opening my own doors, but it was sweet, nonetheless. And when he held out his hand for me to take it, I obliged. Couldn’t complain about being spoiled just a little bit.
We strolled down the paved path, only stopping once so Ryder could buy a single white rose from a street vendor. He handed it to me, and I lifted it to my nose, inhaling deeply. I loved the smell of roses.
“Jolie, there’s something I need to tell you.”
He directed us to a park bench, and we sat down, our knees touching, his hands holding mine.
“What is it?”
“I, um, well, last night when you were almost shot, when I’d thought I’d lost you, I couldn’t handle that I hadn’t told you.” He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable sharing his feelings. I smiled, hoping to encourage him.
But when he pulled on his collar, I started to feel a little sorry for him. This was hard for Ryder. He’d never had love modeled before him. His only example was his father, who had done little to create a truly loving and safe home life. Ryder had the privilege of watching Piper and Cade and Cruz and Lydia, but he’d only known them a short while. So, while he knew what love was in theory, laying his heart out for me would seem like more of a risk than it would for someone like me who came from a loving, if overbearing, family.
“Jolie, I really care about you. I mean—” He pushed his hands through his hair. “Dammit! I’m not doing this right.”
I took pity on him and pressed my fingers to his lips. Smiling, I leaned closer, my lips a hair’s breadth away from his. “Shh. I know. Me too.”
Relief flooded his eyes, and he stood, drawing me up against his body, kissing me with such passion and fervency that there was no doubt in my mind what he’d wanted to say. He loved me. And I loved him.
Although the words were nice to hear, I could be patient and wait for when he was ready to say them.
***
The rest of the week was filled with preparations for the big event. Ryder spent every waking moment sparring in the gym, laying the groundwork for the operation Saturday night, and training me.
The guys scoped out the rundown building where the fight would be held. They were able to plant weapons around the rooftop as well as a couple of the rooms in the abandoned lobby. The hope was no one would search for the weapons, and if they did, they’d only scope out the rooftop and not the downstairs. It was a crapshoot, but better than nothing.
We spent every afternoon sparring, practicing and honing my skills. Of course, our sessions usually ended with us rolling around on the mat, kissing, touching, and fooling around. A couple of times the guys caught us, and that usually ended with my face beet red, and Ryder laughing at me.
But that afternoon was different. It was Friday, the day before the fight, and there was an urgency to Ryder’s demeanor that hadn’t been there before. We’d sparred for about forty-five minutes, before he stopped and held me at arm’s length. He gently pulled the headgear off my head and then dropped a kiss on my lips. I’d thought at first that it was our usual end to the session. Although he’d cut the workout short, I wasn’t really complaining. I looped my arms around his neck, but he pulled them away and took a step back.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to know that you’ll be safe.”
“Ryder, we’ve been over this. I’m not staying back.”
He shook his head. “No, I know you won’t. But I need to make sure that if it comes down to it, you can get away.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you can fight, Jolie, but you’re no match for a gun. I want to show you how to get away if you have one held on you. You need to know how to disarm someone if it comes to that.”
“Show me.”
For the next two hours, Ryder and I worked on several complicated moves to disarm an attacker. One move would disarm someone holding a gun in front of me aimed at my forehead, and the other was if a man held a gun to my head from behind. It took dozens of tries before I was able to get the gun away from my head, although I never quite perfected removing it from his hold. Still, I felt fairly sure that adrenaline would kick in and give me the strength if I ever had to use it. I prayed silently that I wouldn’t.
We showered, and Ryder took me to dinner at a small Italian restaurant in Atlanta called Reggiano’s. It was a hole-in-the-wall-type place, and Ryder knew the owners, Mario and his wife Sylvia. They were an older couple, him with salt-and-pepper hair and her with long brown hair gathered and tied in a long side ponytail. She was graceful and elegant, and Mario was all Italian, loud and boisterous with a slight paunch to his belly.
“Welcome, Ryder Blake! And who do you have with you?”
“This is Jolie. Jolie, Mario and Sylvia Reggiano.” Mario bent and kissed my hand, while Sylvia gave me a big hug.
She held the hand with the ring on it, her eyes lighting with delight. I hadn’t asked Ryder if I should take it off, now that we were fairly certain our covers had been blown, but I simply hadn’t wanted to take it off. Sure, it was fake and hadn’t been given to me as a token of Ryder’s love and affection, but still, it made me feel closer to him somehow. So, I kept wearing it.
“It is very nice to meet you.” Sylvia’s voice held a slight accent, charming and poetic. I could listen to her speak all day and never tire of it. She didn’t say a word about the supposed engagement ring, but her eyes sparkled with pleasure at what she assumed was going on between us.
They sat us at an intimate table for two in the back corner of the restaurant. Ryder ordered a bottle of red wine, and Mario himself poured us a glass.
“Where are the menus?” I glanced around, wondering why we’d not yet received them.
“Mario knows what I like.” Ryder grinned, more carefree than I’d ever seen him, which was odd considering what we were up against the next evening.
“So, I don’t get a say in this?”
“You’ll love it. I promise.”
“They’re friends of yours?”
He nodded, taking my hand and holding his glass in the other. He held it up as if in a toast. I did the same.
“What are we toasting to?”
“To the future.”
We clinked our glasses and took a sip.
“I worked here as a teenager before I got into trouble hacking.” He chuckled, appearing more relaxed than I’d seen him in weeks. “Mario was good to me. Used a firm hand to guide me, paired with a lot of love.”
“They seem really amazing.”
“They are.” He cleared his throat and sat forward, taking my hand again. “I have to ask one more time.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing what was coming.
“Will you please stay behind tomorrow night?”
“No.” I wasn’t trying to be difficult. He just didn’t understand how important this was to me.
“Will you tell me why?”
I took my hand from his, needing to think and finding it difficult to do so when he was touching me. Taking a sip of my wine, I savored the bold taste and the smooth finish.
“Growing up, everyone expected me to be something I wasn’t. My dad is a professor at Emory University. Physics.” Ryder raised his eyebrows, and I chuckled. “Yep. And my mother is the principal of a prestigious private school. Everyone expected me to be a star student, but I had a really difficult time staying focused. I was routinely bored and constantly distracted.”
I took another sip of wine, gaining a little courage. It wasn’t easy to admit your failures. “I imagine I probably have ADD, but my parents would never have me tested. They just insisted I wasn’t trying hard enough.” I laughed without humor. “I mean, no daughter of theirs could possibly have a learning disability—right? So, I struggled, worked as hard as I could, but ultimately school just wasn’t my thing.”
I shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. I’d disappointed my parents in my lack of zeal for all things academia, and I was still disappointing them in my current choice of profession.
“My mother thinks I’m a secretary at a low-class gym. She has no idea, of course, what I’m really doing. And if she did, I can’t say she’d be any more impressed. In their eyes, I’m a failure. A disappointment. Someone who didn’t reach her potential. So, you see, I can’t afford to lose the family that I’ve grown to love at Shadow Force. Here, I’m a valued member of the team. Not a disappointment. Not a failure.”
I leaned closer and took Ryder’s hand in mine. “I need this, Ryder. This group of guys and women who make me a stronger person. A better version of myself. I can’t lose that. Not now. Not after all that we’ve been through this past week.”
Ryder watched me with compassion in his eyes. “I understand.”
“For once in my life I’m doing something that makes a difference.”
Ryder leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. “I get it. I do. Thank you. For sharing that with me.”
Mario interrupted, setting the meal before us, family style. The table was loaded with a huge bowl of salad with an Italian vinaigrette. Tuscan steaks sat carefully plated atop arugula, drizzled with balsamic vinegar and topped with shaved parmesan cheese. And pasta. Three different sauces all so delicious, I was grateful I didn’t have to choose between them.
When he left, Ryder picked up his fork and set it back down. “I had to try.”
“I know.” He wouldn’t be who he was if he wasn’t trying to keep me safe.
“But I would never ask you to give up your dreams.”
We ate the rest of the meal in companionable silence, both of us lost in our thoughts about the future, about what the outcome would be tomorrow night. As well as overwhelmed by the amazing food. I had a feeling this was what authentic Italian food was supposed to taste like.
“Are you nervous?” I asked as we walked hand in hand to our rooms when we’d returned back to HQ.
“Yes and no. Igor has vengeance flowing through his veins. It makes him single-minded, but also it makes him careless. I plan to goad him, use that anger to entice him to make mistakes.”
“You take the chance that it will make him stronger and more determined, though—right?”
“Perhaps. But more than likely it will make him sloppy. Brute strength, no control. Plenty of opportunities for errors to be made.”
We stopped in front of my room. I wasn’t ready to let him go, but I knew we both needed sleep. I reached up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. “Good night, Ryder.”
“Good night.”
I watched as he walked down the hall to his room. Our eyes met as we stood next to our doors. My heart pounded inside my chest, its cadence shouting, I love you. I love you. I love you.
I shut the door and changed into shorts and a cami, then crawled under the covers. I lay awake for two hours, thinking about Ryder, dreaming about a future with him in it. And in the darkest moments, there was fear. Fear that Ryder wouldn’t gain the upper hand. That Igor would kill him, and that I’d be forced to watch it happen with no way to help him.
When I realized sleep wasn’t going to come, I crept out of my room and down the hall. I turned the knob to Ryder’s room and found it unlocked. Quietly, I opened the door and stepped inside, closing it gently behind me.
“I thought you’d never come.”
I whirled around and found Ryder staring at me from his bed. He pulled up the covers, inviting me in. I slid underneath, curling up against him, my head on his chest and his arms around me.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
He kissed the top of my head and held me tight. And there, in the cocoon of Ryder’s arms, I finally slept.