The Defender: RYDER (Cover Six Security Book 3)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  He clenched his jaw. Held his breath against the pain slicing through him. Another minute went by before Hannah blinked away the last of her tears. She lifted her chin a notch, those brown eyes focusing on him with a coldness that chilled his heart. Then she turned and walked away.

  Out of his room.

  Out of his life.

  Ryder pushed the painful memories away, ignored the taste of bile building in the back of his throat. This wasn't about him—it had never been about him. Let Hannah hate him—it was, after all, what he'd aimed for all those years ago. She could hate him all she wanted—

  As long as she'd go pack her things so they could get off this fucking island before the weasel came back.

  "Hannah, you can hate me all you want for what I did to you eleven years ago. Fuck, hate me for what I did the other night. I don't care. What I care about is getting you out of here—"

  "I'm not leaving."

  "You don't get it, do you? The money your friend conned out of all those people is gone."

  "Because it's been spent on supplies and—"

  "No. It's gone because Chaos moved it from his account. And when the weasel finds out, there's going to be hell to pay. I don't think you want to be here when that happens. And you sure as hell don't want to be here when they come pick his ass up."

  "You're lying." There was no conviction in the words, not this time. But the stubbornness didn't leave her eyes. She shook her head, backed up a step. "And even if you aren't, I don't care. There's still work that needs to be done. The school. The fence—"

  "Hannah, stop and think. You saw the materials up there. That's not enough to do anything."

  "Yes, it is. We can—" She stopped, took a deep breath. "We can work with what we have, do as much as we can until the rest of the supplies get here."

  "Hannah—"

  "I'm not leaving, Ryder. I came here to do a job and that's what I'm going to do." She spun on her heel and stormed away. Ryder started after her then stopped.

  Fuck. Why was she being so damn stubborn about this? Why couldn't she see the truth? What the hell did he have to do to prove it to her?

  He had no fucking idea—but whatever it was, he needed to figure it out. Fast. They didn't have much time, not if they were going to catch that morning ferry.

  He looked down at his watch and swore.

  They didn't have time, period.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was a con.

  He's served time for embezzlement...wanted for fraud.

  All of it is just one big con.

  The words swirled through her mind, faster and faster as she hurried away from Ryder. Was he coming after her? She didn't think so, prayed that he wasn't. Prayed that he'd just leave her alone. She didn't want him to see her like this. Didn't want him to see the tears that she was trying so hard to blink back.

  Didn't want him to see the heat of embarrassment flushing her face.

  Because—no matter what she'd told him—she believed him.

  It was a con.

  And oh God, how could she have been so stupid? So naive? How could she have allowed herself to be so easily drawn into Kevin's scheme?

  Because she had wanted to believe they were doing something good. Because she believed in what they were trying to do here. That belief—and her own naivety—had completely blinded her to the signs she should have seen.

  Hannah stumbled, caught herself and quickened her steps.

  No, she'd seen the signs—but she had refused to accept them, had made excuses for every single one of them. The delays in receiving supplies. The way Kevin constantly changed priorities, switching to a new project before one was finished, or making excuses for why something couldn't be done right away. He'd done that so many times that even she couldn't keep up, had no idea what they were even supposed to be working on anymore.

  She should have pressed the issue harder. Should have demanded answers months ago when she first noticed things were slipping. But she hadn't. Instead of questioning Kevin, she'd given him the benefit of the doubt. She assumed he was overwhelmed and tried to do more herself to help him out, to take some of the pressure off his shoulders so he could focus on the priorities.

  But even that hadn't helped—and she had blamed herself for not doing enough.

  It was a con, all of it—and she had played right into his hands.

  How much money had he taken in? She knew how much the weekly fee was for each person who came to help. At least, she thought she knew. It could be even more but she had no way of knowing for sure. And she knew exactly how much was spent each week for expenses—which wasn't much. Was he pocketing the rest? Yes, he must be—that's what made it a con, right?

  She did the math in her head and stumbled to a stop. The figure was staggering. So staggering that she doubled over and nearly threw up. Oh God, all that money. Money that could be put to use here, where it was needed.

  Money that would never be seen again because of one man's disgusting greed.

  How long was he planning on keeping the con going? Weeks? Months? Years? No, definitely not years. Then how long?

  She knew the answer as soon as the question came to her: until the holiday break. Nobody was scheduled to come in for those two weeks. Hannah and Allison would be going home. And when the holidays were over and they returned, Kevin would be gone—along with the money.

  No, the money was gone. What was it Ryder had said? Somebody had moved it. But moved it where? It didn't matter because it wasn't here, wasn't going to be used to do what needed to be finished here.

  And she was partly to blame. She'd actually helped Kevin. For the last six months, she'd stood by his side and allowed herself to be caught up in his visions for improvements—then made excuses when none of those visions made it to fruition.

  That made her just as guilty.

  Nausea rolled over her and she squeezed her eyes closed, fought against it as she pulled in several deep breaths. God, how could she have been so stupid? So naive? So damned trusting? Ryder must be laughing at her, seeing how easily she had been drawn into the web of lies.

  Except he hadn't looked like he wanted to laugh. Not earlier when he'd first told them. Not a few minutes ago when he had tried to convince her to leave. Convince? No, he'd flat out told her they were leaving, making it a command and acting like he expected her to immediately obey. Acting like he was in charge and knew what was best for her.

  Well she sure showed him, didn't she? Just like she'd shown him eleven years ago when she stormed out of his room the day he left to join the Army. The day he'd lied to her and said all those hurtful things just to push her away.

  Because he thought he knew what was best for her.

  And God, why was she even thinking of that day right now? Didn't she have more important things to worry about? Yes, she did—but that didn't stop the memories from flooding back, not when she had just thrown them in his face ten minutes ago. Memories of that day still hurt, the pain as raw now as it had been back then. It didn't matter that she now knew he'd been lying—she hadn't known it then, had believed every hurtful word he'd said to her. It wasn't until years later, when she was older and able to think back on that day with wisdom she hadn't possessed when she was younger, that she realized what he'd done—and why. But knowing didn't ease the pain she'd felt, not even now.

  Laughing? No, Ryder wouldn't laugh at her. He'd lie through his teeth if he thought it would protect her, but he would never laugh at her.

  She opened her eyes, brushed the back of her hand across her forehead and looked behind her, expecting to see Ryder catching up with her. All she saw was empty road. Funny, she didn't even remember reaching the road, but here she was, standing in the middle of it, maybe a quarter-mile from their tiny compound.

  A chill prickled her skin. Compound? Odd how the word carried a more sinister meaning now that she knew what had been going on. Now that she knew everything had been nothing but one big con.

  She should turn an
d go back. Pack her things like Ryder had said and just leave. There was nothing here for her to do, not now. He'd been right about that, too. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't just walk to the work site and try to finish what they'd started. They didn't have enough supplies. They didn't have enough people, not when everyone except Tim would be leaving soon. A new group would be arriving on Monday but that wouldn't help, not now.

  Even if they had the people and the supplies, they didn't have enough time. If Ryder was right—and there was no reason to think he wasn't—everything would come to a screeching halt and they'd all be leaving in a few days anyway. The authorities were coming for Kevin, would pick him up and haul his sorry ass off so he could face justice somewhere. As much as she wanted to be here when that happened, Ryder was right—it would be better if they left. Better to let the authorities handle everything.

  She turned, ready to head back, when the sound of an engine approached from behind. Soft at first, then growing louder as it neared. She recognized the sound, had listened to it several times a day each day for the last six months.

  The van. The worn-out, beat-up van.

  Hannah almost darted into the dense brush lining the road. She didn't want Kevin to see her, and she certainly didn't want to see him. How could she even look at him without showing her disgust? Acting wasn't one of her strong suits, not when almost everything she felt showed on her face. One look at her and he'd know something was wrong.

  But it was too late. The van was in sight, which meant Kevin must have already seen her. Yes, he had, because the van was slowing down. There was no way she could hide, not now.

  Think. Think. Think.

  She was still thinking when the van stopped next to her. Kevin rolled the passenger window down and leaned across the seat, a frown creasing his otherwise smooth face. "Why are you walking? I told you I was coming back to get you."

  The phony accent—the same one she had once thought so charming—grated on her nerves. "Oh. Um, yeah. I know. I just thought..." Her voice trailed off, every possible excuse in the back of her mind dying before she could grasp it. Kevin just rolled his eyes.

  "No worries. Hop in and we'll head back." He unlocked the door then looked up the road with another frown. "Where's Allison? And her brother and his friend?"

  Hannah glanced over her shoulder, breath held as she willed for them—any of them—to suddenly appear. But the road remained empty. She searched for another excuse, anything to bide some time because she did not want to get in the van with Kevin. She didn't want to be anywhere near him, especially not by herself.

  "They, um—Colter still isn't feeling well. In fact, that's what I was doing. I was just coming to tell you that we wouldn't be coming." She mentally winced, wondered if the excuse sounded as idiotic as she thought it did.

  Kevin's brows shot up and an amused smile teased the corners of his mouth. "You were going to walk all that way to tell me that?"

  "Oh. No. No, of course not." She forced a laugh and waved her hand, as if to say she'd meant it was a joke. "I just figured I'd save you some time because I thought I'd run into you and I did. So, yeah. Um, Colter's still sick so we're not going to make it. I'll just head back to camp and—"

  "It takes three of you to care for one sick man?" Impatience laced Kevin's voice and flashed in his blue eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. Now get in so we can get back."

  He stretched across the passenger seat and opened the door. She shook her head, wanting to say no. Searched her mind for another excuse, one that wouldn't sound so ridiculous and superficial. "Let me get Allison—"

  "No. Just get in. I wanted to talk to you anyway and it's better if Allison isn't here."

  Oh God, now what? She couldn't keep putting him off, not without making him suspicious. She glanced over her shoulder one more time, hoping she'd see Allison or Ryder or Colter, but the road was still empty.

  "Hannah."

  "Okay, I'm coming." She was careful not to meet his gaze as she climbed into the van and carefully closed the door behind her. Kevin turned the van around then headed back the way he'd come. A few awkward minutes passed before Kevin sighed, the sound loud enough to be heard over every creak and groan of the van as it bounced over ruts and bumps.

  "Is there something going on between you and Allison's brother?"

  Hannah choked back a surprised gasp and made the mistake of looking at Kevin. Thank God he wasn't looking at her—if he was, he might see the heat filling her face. "What? No, of course not. Why would you even say something like that?"

  "It just seems as if you two know each other."

  "Well, we do. We grew up together. All three of us."

  "I didn't mean it that way."

  Anger shot through her. How dare he ask her something so personal? Even if she didn't know what he'd done, she'd still be angry. Her personal life was none of his business. She started to tell him that but he stopped her with a sharp wave of his hand.

  "I'm only asking because I sensed some tension there. I can't afford to have any disruptions. You know that. And reputation is everything. I can't afford for word to get out that this is anything but a family-oriented program."

  Hannah stared at him, unable to hide her disbelief. "There's nothing—"

  He silenced her with another sharp wave. "I believe you. Irregardless, I think it's better if they leave."

  "Regardless."

  "What?"

  "It's regardless, not irregardless." And oh God, was she really correcting his language? He frowned at her, his disbelief as real as her own.

  "Either way, I think it would be best if they left. I know Allison said they were only here until Sunday but I'm going to tell her tonight that I want them gone in the morning. This afternoon would be better but I'm not sure if we'll be back in time to get them down to the dock before the last ferry leaves."

  Hannah opened her mouth to argue with him then quickly snapped it shut before she could say a single word. Why would she argue? He was giving them the perfect excuse. Now they wouldn't have to come up with another story about how they had to stay back. They could just leave.

  All four of them, because Hannah planned on going with them.

  "Okay. I'll tell them when we get back."

  "Just like that? No arguments?"

  "No arguments."

  "Hm. I expected more of a fight from you."

  "Why? It's only a few days. And you're right, you can't afford—"

  "Shit!"

  Kevin slammed the brakes and Hannah was thrown forward, the seat belt catching her around the neck before she hit the dash. Momentum stopped and she was jerked back, the force pushing a surprised gasp from her. She turned toward Kevin, ready to ask him what he was doing, stopped when her eyes focused on the figure standing in the middle of the road.

  Ryder.

  She blinked. Blinked again, certain she was hallucinating.

  But it wasn't a hallucination—Ryder really was standing in the middle of the road. How was that even possible? The last time she'd seen him, he'd been standing by the tree fifty yards outside their small compound. No way could he have gotten that far ahead of her—ahead of them.

  But he had—which meant he must have run the entire way. Not just run. For him to have caught up to them—to pass them—he must have been doing an all-out sprint.

  "I thought you said he was back at the camp."

  "I—he—" She was saved from answering by Ryder himself. He approached the van, a careless smile on his face, and opened the rear sliding door. Hannah twisted in her seat, frowning as he climbed in.

  "Thanks for stopping. I really didn't feel like walking all that way." He pulled the t-shirt away from his chest a few times, fanning himself with the damp material. "It's already hot. No idea how you guys deal with it down here."

  Confusion crossed Kevin's face. "But—I didn't pass you on the way up."

  "You did."

  "No, I would have seen you."

  Ryder shrugged, leaned toward Kevin with
one of those man-to-man grins like he was ready to share some kind of raunchy joke. "I was taking a leak. You know how it is."

  Kevin swore beneath his breath, the words too low for Hannah to hear, then started the van forward again. Whatever he'd said didn't matter because she wasn't paying attention to him. How could she, when she was so focused on Ryder?

  On the way his pulse beat heavy in his strong throat.

  On the way the slightly damp shirt clung to his broad chest and arms.

  On the faintest sheen of sweat covering his face.

  And on the dark anger simmering in the deep brown eyes staring back at her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ryder slammed the post into the ground. Once. Twice. Harder. Vibrations ran through the post and into his arm, spread through him until his entire body hummed with them.

  Vibrations, hell. That was anger thrumming through his body. Anger—

  And the tiniest sliver of fear.

  He slammed the post again, ramming it deeper into the ground. The sun beat down on him, the warmth fighting the chill that had overtaken him when he saw Hannah climb into the creep's van a few hours ago.

  What the fuck had she been thinking? It was one thing to verbally deny everything Ryder had told her. She didn't want to admit she'd been duped, was convinced it meant she was stupid—which it didn't, but at least he understood why she was so reluctant to accept the truth. He understood it, no problem. It was a lot to take in, he got that. But to actually go with that asshole when she knew, deep down, what he'd done?

  Fuck.

  His damn heart had literally stilled for a few seconds when he saw her get into that van. As he watched it drive away. A dozen different scenarios played through his mind, none of them good. He couldn't take the chance nothing would happen, couldn't risk the chance that Hannah might actually ask the fucking weasel about the money—because yeah, he could totally see her doing that. Could totally see her confronting him and demanding answers. God only knew how the man would react if she did something like that. At best, he'd kick her out and run and hide. At worst—