"Yes. We went back last week, around the same time, and saw them again. There was a third man with them, and they were arguing."
"What were they arguing about?"
"I—I don't know. They were too far away. Where we were—it's up high. You'll see tomorrow. When we go there."
"You couldn't hear what they were saying but you knew they were arguing." It was a statement, quietly phrased to put Allison at ease. Did she even realize that Ninja was working his magic and putting her into some kind of trance?
Not that the other man would ever admit to it. The only thing he'd say was that he was good at relaxing people. That it was all about the soothing tone of his voice and the way he held a person's gaze.
Yeah. Right.
"Yes, arguing. Their voices were raised, and one of the men tried to shove another one."
"Did you recognize them?"
Allison frowned, shook her head. "No. But...there was something about one of them—" She sighed, shook her head again. "No, I didn't recognize them. We were too far away."
"And they didn't see you this time?"
"No. We made sure to stay hidden. We waited until they went into the cave and then we left."
"What cave?"
"There's a cave down there. We didn't even know about it until we saw the men go inside it. We went back the next day and went down there, to the beach—"
"Shit—" Ryder bit off the rest of what he was going to say at Ninja's quick look. Probably a good thing, because whatever he'd been ready to say wouldn't have come out very nicely.
Allison kept talking as if she hadn't been interrupted. "We went into the cave and looked around and that's when we saw it."
"Saw what?"
"The treasure chest. But it didn't look like a treasure chest, not like the kind in the movies."
Ryder swallowed back a curse, dug his fingers deeper into the flesh of his arms. Damn her. Damn them both. What the hell had they been thinking, to go wandering off by themselves, spying on men they both thought were up to no good? It was probably nothing more than some tourists but still—
Yeah, sure. That's why a sudden chill crawled along the back of his neck.
"What did the chest look like?"
"It was long. Metal. Dark green. And heavy." Allison shrugged and offered Ninja an apologetic smile. "We tried to lift it but we couldn't. And it was locked so we couldn't open it."
Treasure chest, his ass.
The chill creeping along the back of Ryder's neck spread and started dancing up and down his spine. He exchanged a quiet look with Ninja and clenched his jaw even tighter.
Ninja turned back to Allison and gently squeezed her hand. "What did you do then?"
"We left. But..." Her voice trailed off as a small frown creased her face.
"But what, Allison?"
"They found a body washed up on the other side of the island the other day. They said he hit his head and drowned. But..." She hesitated, pulled her lower lip between her teeth and chewed on it for a second. "I—I think it was one of the men we saw."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because he was missing his leg."
Ryder blinked. Swore to himself. Blinked again then opened his mouth. Closed it. Frowned. Opened his mouth one more time—
"You have got to be fucking kidding me."
Allison yanked her hand from Ninja's and pushed to her feet, anger staining her face pink as she pointed a finger at Ryder. "Why do you have to say it like that? Like I'm making this whole thing up?"
"Because that's exactly what it sounds like: a made-up story. Orphans. Buried treasure. And hey, let's throw in a fucking one-legged pirate while we're at it. Guess he screwed up and they made him walk the plank, huh?"
"Fine. Go ahead and laugh. Don't believe me. I don't care. I know what I saw—what we both saw. And I know the man who drowned was one of the men we saw on the beach—"
"How do you even know that?"
"Because the man who got pushed had on a prosthesis, that's why!" Allison stormed toward the door and twisted the handle. Hesitated then turned back to Ryder. "I called you because I thought you could help. That's what big brothers are supposed to do. But instead, you come down here and have to act all macho superior. Hannah was right—you really are an ass!"
She threw open the door, stepped out, and slammed it behind her before Ryder could react. He stared at the door long after the echo of its slamming died then released a loud sigh and turned toward Ninja. The other man was still sitting on the edge of the bed, an amused grin curling his mouth.
"I think I'm siding with your ex on this one."
"Fuck you."
"Sorry, buddy, but that was a dick comment and you know it."
Ryder swallowed back a growl and pushed away from the wall. "I know. It's just...shit, it's so fucking far-fetched nobody would believe it."
"Maybe." Ninja shifted on the bed and pulled one leg up to his chest. "But that description she gave? Not a whole lot of things that could be."
"Yeah. I know."
Long. Metal. Dark green.
It was possible they were both jumping to conclusions. Possible that treasure chest was something else entirely different than what they were both thinking.
That chill racing along Ryder's spine said otherwise.
Ninja's dark eyes bore into his. "Wouldn't hurt to stay a few days. Check it out."
Ryder grabbed his pack from the floor and tossed it on the bed next to the wall. "Yeah. I know."
"Our flight out isn't until Monday. That gives us four full days after today."
"Yeah. I know." Ryder opened his pack, rummaged through it until his hand closed over his small shower kit.
"So. What's the plan?"
"The plan is to take a shower and grab a nap."
"I take it that means we're staying?"
Ryder scowled at Ninja then stormed toward the tiny bathroom. "Yeah, we're staying."
He slammed the door closed on Ninja's laughter.
Chapter Four
Ryder stood just outside the pavilion and studied the small crowd. Ten people gathered around, talking and laughing, their low voices drifting on the gentle breeze that rustled the fronds overhead. Twilight teased the horizon, the soft light adding a mystical feel to the gathering.
Ninja, the damned traitor, stood next to Allison, his head cocked to the side as she talked to the weasel and an older woman wearing a loose sundress that drifted around her calves. To anyone else, it would look like he was simply listening, but Ryder knew better.
Ninja was studying every single face, committing features and voices to memory for use later. Ryder was doing the same thing, but he wasn't quite as subtle as the other man.
An older man, dressed in loose linen shorts and an even looser tropical shirt, stood just beside the older woman. His gray hair was slightly tousled, a little windblown. Ryder figured he was the woman's husband. Retirees, most likely.
His gaze drifted to the trio standing a few feet away from the first group. Two women, probably in their early twenties, and a man a few years older. Mid-twenties? Ryder tilted his head to the side and studied the man a little more closely.
No, late twenties, but with the attitude of someone who refuses to grow up and thinks the entire world is his playground. The guy was standing a little too close to the brunette, although his attention was bouncing between both women. Hedging his bets, just in case? Maybe. Or maybe he was playing both women. It didn't matter because the brunette's friend had definitely noticed and was doing her best not to scowl whenever she thought the first two weren't looking at her.
Ryder made a mental note to keep away from all three of them. That triangle had disaster written all over it.
His gaze drifted to the other side of the pavilion, back where the makeshift kitchen was set up. A large refrigerator was placed against the wall. Dim light from the bare bulbs overhead reflected off the surface, showing every scratch and dent and gouge. Three cabinets topped with a chippe
d countertop separated the refrigerator from the stove wedged into the corner. Not a regular stove—the behemoth was an industrial grill, the kind you might see in a burger joint somewhere, with two big burners on the side and a flat grill next to those. An old exhaust hood was positioned just above it. Ryder figured the hood was more for show than anything else since three of the four sides of the pavilion were already open to the great outdoors—and all the bloodthirsty bugs that went with it.
He slapped at one of the little fuckers feasting on his arm, flicked it away and went back to studying the kitchen area.
Or rather, the woman scurrying back and forth in the kitchen area.
Hannah stood in front of the grill, her back to him as she flipped whatever she was cooking. She leaned to the side and said something to the younger girl next to her, who nodded and walked away, disappearing around the side of the pavilion somewhere.
Hannah moved back to the grill and lifted the lid from a big pot. Steam drifted around her and she waved her hand in front of her face for a few seconds before leaning over the pot and looking inside. She frowned, closed the lid, then turned the heat up a little higher before turning back to whatever she was cooking on the grill.
Was this how they usually handled dinner? One person cooked while everyone else mingled around like it was cocktail hour? Or was Hannah the designated cook?
Somehow he couldn't see that. He remembered a trip home a few years ago, when he'd been forced to go with his parents and Allison over to the Montgomery's for dinner. He'd spent an uncomfortable two hours trying to make casual conversation while ignoring Hannah the entire time—something that had been harder to do than he thought it would be. It got even more uncomfortable when Hannah's mom had gently teased her about burning dinner the night before. She'd turned bright red and shot him a look of such misery and embarrassment that Ryder had taken pity on her and made up some lame ass excuse for why he had to leave.
Yeah, because he was honorable that way. So fucking honorable that he couldn't even stay in the same room with the girl who's virginity he'd taken eleven years ago.
Shit.
He clenched his jaw and started toward the makeshift kitchen. Ignored Allison's call and Ninja's smartass grin. Fuck it. He was thirty-fucking-years-old—more than old enough to move on from what had happened a lifetime ago. If they were going to be stuck on this fucking island for the next few days, he could at least pretend to act normal.
He leaned his shoulder against the refrigerator then cleared his throat. "Need help with anything?"
Hannah stiffened then whirled around, surprise flashing in her eyes. For a brief second, Ryder thought she might actually haul off and hit him with the oversized spatula in her hand. She lowered her arm and quickly turned away, but not before he saw the flush staining her cheeks.
"Um, no. Thank you. Everything's under control."
Ryder peered over her shoulder, frowning at the small slabs of pale meat on the grill. "What's that you're cooking?"
"Fish."
"Fish." Ryder leaned closer, sniffed. "It doesn't smell like fish. It smells like...nothing."
"Like nothing?"
"Yeah. Like nothing." He stepped closer and studied the filets spread out on the grill. "You guys have something against seasoning down here?"
"No. But with all the different tastes and dietary restrictions, we usually let everyone season their own stuff at the table."
It was a lame answer but he couldn't argue with it, not when it was probably the truth. "Which one's mine?"
"Yours?" Hannah glanced at him, down at the fish, then back at him. "I don't know. Why?"
"Because I'd rather have mine seasoned on the grill. Depending on what kind of seasonings you have."
Hannah raised the spatula and pointed toward a small cabinet mounted on the wall next to the refrigerator. "Everything we have is in there. And since when do you know anything about cooking?"
"Since I had to learn as a matter of survival." He opened the cabinet, studied the scattered bottles of spices, then grabbed a few of them. He moved back to the grill. "So which one is mine?"
"I don't know. Pick one."
He bit back a grin at the irritation in her voice then nudged her out of the way and quickly seasoned two of the filets.
"You only get one—"
"The other is for Ninja."
"Who?"
"Ninja. Colter." He swallowed back a chuckle at the confusion marring Hannah's face. "My buddy? The one I dragged down here for the life-and-death situation?"
"Oh. I didn't know his name."
"Well, now you do." He took the spatula from her and turned each filet, then added more seasoning to the two he had picked out for Ninja and him.
"That wasn't my idea."
"What wasn't?"
"Calling you. I told Allison it wasn't a good idea."
"Yeah?" Ryder turned, caught Hannah's gaze with his own and lowered his voice. "Because you don't think there's anything to it? Or because you didn't want me to come down here?"
A small flush stained her cheeks and she quickly looked away. "No, there's definitely something to it."
Yeah, she definitely put him in his place with that answer. Ryder clenched his jaw and turned back to the grill. "Do you have plates anywhere? These are ready to go."
"Already? I thought they had to cook longer."
"Not unless you want them dried out. Plates?"
Hannah moved toward the low row of cabinets that made up a makeshift island bar behind her and pulled out a stack of plates. "The rice and vegetable mix probably isn't done yet. I put them on late—"
"Is that what's in the pot?"
Hannah nodded. "It's only been boiling for ten minutes or so."
"Then it's probably done." Ryder grabbed the stack of plates and slid a filet on each one before handing it to Hannah so she could place them on the makeshift bar. Then he moved to the pot, removed the lid, and stared at the contents. What the hell was that mess even supposed to be? It was a mix of overcooked rice, peas, and something red. Peppers? Something else?
He had no idea and part of him was afraid to ask.
He grabbed the two potholders and pulled the pot from the burner, then looked around for someplace to drain all the water. Hannah pointed to the large double sink off to the side. "I already put the colander in there. You just—"
"Yeah, I know." Ryder dumped the mess into the colander, waited until it was completely drained, then emptied the contents back into the pot. "And that takes care of that. Dinner's ready."
And why the hell was Hannah looking at him that way? With her brows furrowed and that full mouth pursed like she'd just gotten a taste of something sour? Not angry. Not irritated. Just...baffled. Like she was trying to figure out the punchline of a joke someone just told.
He started to ask her what was wrong but she turned away from him and called out to everyone. Yeah, like they hadn't all been standing there watching for the last ten minutes and couldn't tell that dinner was ready. Instead of rushing toward the food like he'd expected, everyone hung back, waiting. For what, he didn't know. He caught Ninja's gaze, shrugged, then reached for his plate—only to be stopped by Hannah's hand on his arm.
Heat rushed through him, the sudden awareness of her touch sharp and biting and holy fucking hell, what was that about? It was just her hand, for fuck's sake. On his arm. It wasn't like she just shoved her hand down his pants and wrapped her fingers around his cock and started stroking.
And fuck, he didn't need that image. He didn't need any image, not of Hannah. Not of sex. Especially not of sex with Hannah.
Shit. Too late. The image was there, crystal clear in vivid color, complete with scent and sound and touch. Not a memory of what they'd done before, all those years ago—although the memory certainly added to it. No, this was a vivid image of what he wanted now.
Hannah's body under his, her legs wrapped high around his waist as he plunged his cock inside her. Deep. Hard. Fast. Hannah's hands clutch
ing him, nails scoring his bare flesh. Her soft voice, calling his name as she splintered apart with the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching his cock over and over as she came.
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
His balls drew tight with the image and for a horrifying second, he thought he'd made a sound, a low groan or even a grunt as he recalled in excruciating detail exactly how it felt to drive his cock deep inside her. How it felt to lose himself in her tight pussy.
Maybe he did make a sound because everyone was staring at him. No, not everyone. Just Ninja, who didn't miss a damn thing, and Hannah—
She jerked her hand from his arm and looked away, a blush staining her cheeks as she focused on the crowd—and on the weasel who was talking, droning on and on about something stupid.
Completely ignoring the fact that Ryder had just mind-fucked Hannah to completion in thirty seconds flat, damn near exploding himself with nothing more than the image of her naked body, lush and willing, under his.
Fuck.
He grabbed his plate before the weasel finished talking and stormed toward the furthest of the three tables, Ninja right behind him. That seemed to be all the invitation anyone else needed because the small crowd converged on the food, chattering amongst themselves.
Ryder tuned them out, cut off a piece of the fish and popped it into his mouth—and had to force himself not to spit it right back out. He looked around, searching for beer or something but there was only bottled water. He grabbed one, uncapped it, and took three long swallows.
Shit.
He forced himself not to choke then sat there, waiting to see if his stomach was going to rebel or not. Allison dropped into the chair next to him, frowned, then nudged him in the arm.
"Get that expression off your face before Hannah sees it."
Ryder froze. Shit. Did he still look guilty about his mind-fucking episode? Or embarrassed, maybe? Because yeah, he was, but he sure as hell didn't think anyone would be able to tell, not just by looking at him. Especially not his sister. And Christ, how fucking mortifying was that? To be caught—
The Defender: RYDER (Cover Six Security Book 3) Page 4