The Defender: RYDER (Cover Six Security Book 3)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  What Ninja said made sense—and if he'd been thinking clearly, Ryder would have realized it before opening his own mouth. Neither one of the men—the weasel or Casanova—would have been able to make it back that quickly. Which meant whoever he'd seen—if he'd seen anyone at all—didn't belong to Hannah's little group.

  And even if he had seen someone, it didn't necessarily mean they were up to no good.

  Ryder might even believe that—if his gut wasn't screaming otherwise.

  He turned to Ninja, clapped him on the shoulder and started heading toward the building. "We're taking a hike tonight."

  "Is that so?"

  "Yeah. It's time to figure out what the hell Allison and Hannah really saw."

  "And if it's what we think it is?"

  "Fuck if I know. Call the authorities, I guess—whoever that might be down here."

  "And if it's not?"

  Ryder shrugged. "Then we catch the next ferry back and enjoy a few days on the beach before our flight out on Monday."

  Yeah, it sounded good. But Ryder knew it wouldn't be that easy or simple.

  Hell, it never was.

  Chapter Eight

  Dinner was much the same as it had been the night before: everyone mingling and chatting as one person did most of the cooking. The weasel was the one in the kitchen this time, which surprised the hell out of Ryder—he'd gotten the impression that the weasel was the kind of person who gave orders instead of leading by example.

  The man's focus was split between the fish on the grill and the small crowd. Despite the chatting, the conversation was more subdued tonight, maybe even a little strained.

  A direct result from the weasel's steely gaze, no doubt. As soon as any one conversation showed signs of becoming animated, the man would turn around and scowl until everyone quieted back down. Then he turned that scowl on Ryder, his eyes narrowing until they were nothing more than pale slits in his face.

  Subtlety definitely wasn't the man's strongest suit. The hell of it was, Ryder had no idea what he'd done to piss the man off. Then again, the weasel hadn't done much to piss him off, so he figured it was a fair trade.

  He made his way over to where Hannah was standing with the Millers and the young girl, Katie. She looked up at him, offered him a weak smile, then quickly looked away. Ryder ground his back teeth together, drew in a sharp breath, then dipped his head toward her.

  "Let's take a walk."

  Hannah's eyes widened in surprise. She glanced around like she was seeking help—or trying to figure out the best way to turn him down without causing a scene. He didn't wait for her to come up with an answer, just grabbed her hand and tugged.

  For five seconds, he seriously thought she was going to literally dig her heels in and refuse. Her fingers were chilled against the warmth of his own flesh. Uneasiness thrummed through her, evident in the way she tensed, in the way her hand stiffened in his. She must have seen the determination in his gaze because her hand finally relaxed a second before she quietly excused herself and allowed him to tug her away from the curious trio.

  Ryder remained silent as he led her out of the pavilion and into the soft shadows of descending twilight. He didn't go too far—he wanted to keep an eye out on the weasel, certain the man would follow them if they disappeared from view. Just far enough to give them some privacy, far enough that they wouldn't be overheard by the small crowd that had watched them leave.

  He dropped Hannah's hand then spun so he was facing her. She kept her gaze averted, focused on the ground at her feet as she quickly wrapped her arms around her middle.

  Ryder shifted his weight, glanced behind her at the curious gazes being tossed their way. They were in no danger of being interrupted, at least not yet. Not with Ninja playing pseudo-guard by diverting everyone's attention.

  Satisfied that they'd have at least a few minutes of uninterrupted time, Ryder turned his gaze back to Hannah. She looked so forlorn, so...lost. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her. Reassure her.

  Carry her back to his bungalow and spend the next ten hours fucking her, until she forgot everything except his name.

  Shit. He had to stop thinking like that. Nothing else was going to happen between them, especially after last night. It couldn't, not when he knew she wanted so much more than what he could give.

  He ran a hand through his hair, blew out a quick sigh. Shoved that same hand into his pocket. "You doing okay?"

  Her head darted up, surprise flashing in her eyes. She blinked, lowered her gaze, quickly nodded. "Yeah. Fine."

  "You sure about that?"

  "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

  Because of the way you flew out of the bungalow last night. Because of the way I hurt you again.

  But he couldn't say that, couldn't bring himself to even mention it. Ryder swallowed back his irritation and forced himself to speak quietly. "It was an exciting afternoon."

  Her head darted up again. "Exciting? Is that what you call it? Naomi almost died."

  "But she didn't, thanks to your quick thinking."

  "I'm not the one—"

  "The hell you weren't. If you hadn't caught her, she would have—"

  "Please don't say it."

  Ryder slammed his mouth shut before the words tumbled out. He didn't need to say them, not when Hannah already knew the truth. Her face paled and she pressed a fist against her stomach, inhaled deeply and shook her head.

  "If you weren't there—when I think about what almost happened to you—" She shook her head again. "And it was my fault. I should have been paying closer attention."

  He ignored her whispered comment about what almost happened to him—he couldn't read into it, had to pretend he didn't even hear it. He focused instead on everything else she said, on the way she was so readily taking the blame. "Were you in charge of watching the kids?"

  "No. But I—"

  "Then it wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault, so stop it."

  "But it was. You heard Kevin—"

  "He's an asshole." Anger crept into Ryder's voice, adding an extra bite to the sharp words. "I don't know even know why you listen to him."

  "Because he's the project manager."

  "That doesn't give him the right to belittle anyone the way he did you."

  "He was just upset—"

  "Bullshit. Why are you making excuses for him?"

  "I'm not."

  "Then what the hell do you call it?"

  "It's not an excuse when he's right." Hannah hugged her arms more tightly around her middle and started pacing in a small circle. "We haven't had time to get the fence up yet—Kevin wanted to finish the roof first. So everyone keeps an eye out on the kids, just in case. I—I should have been paying closer attention. I wasn't, and look what happened."

  Ryder reached for her arm to stop her dizzying pacing, spun her around to face him. "You're telling me the fence was supposed to go up first?"

  "No, not really. I mean, maybe. I'm not sure. But you saw the old building. The way it's practically falling down around the kids. They can't be expected to learn like that. If we can finish the roof, they can start to use the new building. At least, parts of it. That's why Kevin decided to put off building the fence. That's why everyone keeps an eye out when the kids are playing."

  Unfuckingbelievable. No, what was unbelievable was the fact that Hannah actually believed what she was saying. That she was defending the weasel even now. After what happened. After the way he spoke to her.

  Ryder stepped back, laced his fingers together behind his neck, and closed his eyes with a small growl. He needed to walk away. To just turn around and walk away. Walk, hell. If he were smart, he'd run.

  But he'd never been smart when it came to Hannah. Not all those years ago when they were growing up together. Not eleven years ago when he gave in to the desire that had been his constant companion whenever he thought about Hannah—which was damn near every second of every day.

  Now was no different. Just looking at her wa
s enough to drive him over the edge—only it was ten times worse than what he'd felt all those years ago because now he knew what it was like to be with her. To hold her. To hear her call his name as she exploded around him. To feel her warm breath on his skin and the touch of her hands against his body.

  That didn't stop the insane urge to reach out and grab her. To shake her until some of the common sense he knew she possessed reasserted itself. Why was she being so damn pigheaded about this? Why did she keep defending the weasel and making excuses for him?

  That's what didn't make sense. The Hannah he remembered would have never tolerated such high-handed behavior. She would have gotten right in his face and given him a piece of her mind. Would have read him the riot act and quickly set him straight.

  "Are you sleeping with him?" The words fell from his mouth before his brain had time to engage. And fuck, it was the wrong question to ask. Hannah's face reddened—not with embarrassment, but with anger. He braced himself, wondering if maybe she'd slap him. He sure as hell deserved it, wouldn't blame if her she did.

  But she didn't, despite that small fist hanging by her side.

  She stepped toward him, her head tilted back, their bodies separated by mere inches of humid air. Those warm brown eyes of hers flashed with anger as she impaled him with nothing more than a simple look. Simple, hell. That look alone was enough to singe his flesh.

  "How dare you even ask me that! Especially after last night. Who do you think you are, coming down here and disrupting everything, then asking me something like that? You have no right—"

  "If it's going to affect me doing what you two asked me to come down here for, then yeah, I do." Which was a total fucking lie. Who Hannah slept with didn't concern him—at least, it shouldn't. And it sure as hell didn't affect his ability to look around. It wasn't his business—had never been his business.

  That didn't stop the burning need to hear her answer.

  Ryder held her angry gaze, refused to look away as his lungs ached with the need to breathe. He could no more do that than he could look away, not until she answered.

  If she answered.

  The small muscle along the side of her jaw jumped, telling him that she was grounding her teeth as hard as he was. The breath left her with a small hiss as she leaned even closer, anger still flashing in her eyes.

  "No, I'm not sleeping with him. Not that it's any of your business."

  Relief fell over him. The tension gripping his shoulders eased and he inhaled, filling lungs that had been close to bursting with their need for air. "Good."

  Hannah blinked, stepped back and shook her head. "Oh God, Allison was right. You really are an—"

  "Yeah, I know. I always have been. I thought you would have figured that out by now."

  Astonishment crossed her face. She started to move toward him, hesitated and took another step back instead. "You don't honestly believe that, do you? I never thought that, not even after—"

  "I didn't ask you out here to stroll down memory lane, Hannah." Hell no, that was the last thing he wanted—or needed. He was having a hard enough time forgetting the past, felt himself being tugged back to their time together every single time he looked at her. He sure as hell didn't want to dive into the memories head-first.

  "Then why did you bring me out here? It wasn't just to make sure I'm okay."

  Ryder thought about denying it—for two seconds. He shook his head, slid his gaze back to the pavilion. The weasel flipped the fish on the flat grill then reached behind him for the plates. They had a few more minutes—plenty of time to ask her the other question that had been burning inside since this afternoon.

  He caught Hannah's gaze with his own, watching for the slightest change in her expression. "Why did you let him talk to you like that?"

  Her gaze slid from his, just as he knew it would. Her cheeks paled and she absently kicked at a small patch of weeds with the toe of her hiking sandal. A second went by, then another, before she carelessly shrugged.

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Yeah, you do. Why didn't you rip him a new one like you just did to me?"

  "I didn't—"

  Ryder waved his hand, cutting her off. "Close enough. That's what you should have done to the weasel when he talked to you that way."

  "Stop calling him 'the weasel'. He has a name. Kevin."

  "He's still a weasel. And you haven't answered my question: why did you let him get away with it?"

  "Because he's my boss—"

  "Bullshit. That doesn't excuse what he did."

  "He's not usually like that—"

  "That still isn't an answer."

  Hannah started her pacing again, around and around, wearing another small circular pattern in the sandy dirt beneath her feet. She finally stopped, crossed her arms in front of her, and blew out a quick breath. "I don't know why. I—I guess I was still upset about what happened. What almost happened. I think he was, too."

  Ryder wanted to argue with her. Tell her that being upset didn't excuse behavior like that. Tell her that bowing down to behavior like that only made it worse. The weasel was nothing more than a bully. A little man who had to demean others to make himself feel more important. And no way in hell was he buying her comment that he usually wasn't like that, that he had simply lashed out because he was upset.

  He didn't say any of that, though. Now wasn't the time. It would probably never be the right time. Ryder and Ninja would be leaving this island in a few days, would never see most of these people ever again. He sure as hell wouldn't be working with them.

  But Hannah would be. Her and Allison both. It wouldn't do anyone a damn bit of good if he stirred up shit and left the two of them to deal with it. But God help the weasel if he stepped out of line one more time while Ryder was here. If he did, all bets would be off.

  "Dinner's ready." The weasel's voice drifted through the evening air, the sound of it grating on Ryder's nerves and making his jaw clench. Hannah glanced over her shoulder then back at him.

  "Was that all you wanted?" She was already turning away, ready to do the weasel's bidding when Ryder spoke.

  "No." He reached for her arm, tugged her further away from the pavilion—a move that didn't go unnoticed. The weasel was standing near the edge of the pavilion, a frown on his face as he watched them. Fuck him. Let him watch. Let him think whatever the hell he wanted to.

  Ryder dipped his head toward Hannah and lowered his voice. "Ninja and I are going to look around that cave of yours later tonight. I need to know what everyone's routine is for later. I don't want anyone to see us."

  "We'll go with you—"

  "That wasn't an invitation, Hannah." And fuck, he should have seen that one coming. The last thing he needed was Hannah and Allison tagging along.

  "You'll never find it without us."

  "I said no. We're going to be hiking—"

  "But that's more than three miles away!"

  "Yeah?" Three miles was a cakewalk, nothing more than a quick stroll.

  "In the dark. Along roads you're not familiar with."

  "And you're point is?"

  "My point is, you won't find it. Not without our help."

  "Hannah, the only help I need from you is what everyone's routine is. What time everyone turns in. If anyone stays up late or is likely to come outside at the wrong time—"

  "Are you two going to join us?"

  Ryder looked over Hannah's shoulder, clenched his jaw when he saw the weasel heading toward them, his stride filled with purpose. Yeah, because God forbid someone didn't jump to do his bidding right away.

  Hannah twisted to the side, a bright smile on her face. "We'll be right there, Kev." She turned back to him and the smile faded—but the flash in her eyes was just as bright as her smile had been. Maybe even brighter.

  With a sinking feeling, Ryder realized that flash dancing in her eyes wasn't a remnant of the phony smile she had given the weasel. Hell no, that would be too much to ask. The sparkle was du
e to excitement—and he knew exactly why it was there.

  He shook his head, started to tell her no. No way, no how. Not just no, but hell no.

  He never got the words out. Hannah's hand dropped to his arm, her touch scalding him as she leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Meet us behind our bungalow at ten. Everyone should be in bed by then."

  "Hannah—"

  But it was too late because she was already walking away, a spring in her step that hadn't been there fifteen minutes ago. Hell, it hadn't been there yesterday, either.

  What kind of an ass was he that he was actually entertaining the idea of letting them tag along? That more than anything told him he needed to have his head examined. Bringing them along was a stupid idea. Beyond stupid. So stupid that it bordered on lunacy.

  But he was going to do it anyway—which was a sure sign that he was in over his head. Then again, with Hannah, he always had been.

  "Fuck."

  Chapter Nine

  He watched the newcomer pull Hannah off to the side. What were they talking about?

  Probably nothing. The stupid woman was still upset from this afternoon. Just look at her, standing there with her arms wrapped around her middle, her face pale in twilight's shadows. Her reaction disappointed him. The emotion and the crying she'd done earlier. So the little brat had almost fallen off the cliff. There was no need for all the drama and overreaction.

  He'd given her credit for being smarter than all the other naive twits here. Still naive, yes, but—

  He sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, it was probably a good thing she'd reacted so quickly and saved the girl. If she hadn't, people might have stumbled across the cave—and what was in it—when they went down to scoop up the girl's remains.

  That in itself was enough to worry him. What worried him even more was the sudden appearance of the two newcomers. The timing was suspicious—in his line of work, everything was suspicious.

  The other woman—Allison—had claimed the man talking to Hannah was her brother. What was his name? Something weird. Unusual. He frowned, thinking...