Only running like hell wasn't exactly right. Boomer was moving too slow, his steps off-balance so that he was weaving like a drunk man. Fuck. He was hurt. Had he been hit? Ninja didn't think so. At least, not that he could see from here.
Which meant jack shit.
He crawled toward the trail, following the edge of the cliff. He stayed far enough back so he wouldn't tumble over if the wet ground gave way, but close enough that he could still see what was going on.
And what was going on worried the hell out of him.
The two figures from the dinghy were standing on the beach, staring after Boomer and Hannah. Another shot rang out but Ninja didn't think they'd been aiming. Who the fuck was down there? Miller—at least, he thought it was the older man judging from the gray hair but he couldn't be sure. He had no fucking clue who the other person was, if it was male or female, young or old.
Did it matter? No, not when the unknown raised their arm and fired again.
Fuck.
If the unknowns took off after Boomer and Hannah, the shit was not going to end well. With the way Boomer was stumbling and weaving, the unknowns would catch up to them in no time.
And there wasn't a damn thing Ninja could do. He was unarmed, with only a handful of rocks to use as a weapon. In close quarters, he could do a hell of a lot of damage with a rock. But from this distance?
All he could do was create a minor distraction.
He gathered a few good-sized rocks around him, ready to do just that. But the unknown pair didn't take off after Ryder—they turned toward the cave instead.
He waited for the pair to disappear then jumped to his feet and tore off toward the trail. Leaves slapped at his face and arms as he descended the slope, gravity adding some much-needed speed. Boomer must have heard him coming—yeah, because Ninja wasn't worried about staying quiet, not right now—because he grabbed Hannah and pulled her behind him.
Then sagged in relief when he realized who it was.
Yeah, there was definitely something wrong for Boomer to show anything on his face—especially relief.
He pushed Hannah toward him. "Take her. Get her out of here."
"No! Colter, help him. He has a concussion."
Ninja didn't hesitate. He grabbed Hannah and pushed her up the trail, then reached for Ryder. He shoved his shoulder under the man's arm, grabbed him around the waist, and started hauling ass.
And damn if the ass didn't start fighting him.
"Get Hannah out of here."
"How about I get you both?"
"You don't get it." Boomer shook his head then hissed in pain. "Explosives."
Ninja stumbled to a halt, his blood turning cold. "What?"
"The last crate was filled with explosives."
"And you just had to fucking play with your toys, didn't you?"
A quick grin curled the other man's mouth, but only briefly. "You know me."
"Yeah, unfortunately. How long?"
"Fifteen minutes."
Ninja glanced toward the cave, nothing more than a dark speck further down the beach. The unknown pair were just exiting, dragging the crate between them. Neither one of them even looked back at the trail.
"Doesn't look like we need to worry about it now."
Ryder glanced at the beach then met Ninja's gaze with a slight grimace. "That fifteen minutes?"
"Yeah?"
"Could maybe be five. Hard to say."
"What the fuck?"
"It was a patch job with a makeshift timer."
"Fuck." Ninja started moving forward again, dragging Boomer with him. "How much explosive we talking about?"
"Enough."
"Damn you, Boomer. If you blow me the fuck up, I will never forgive you."
"Don't think I'll be forgiving myself, either."
Ninja swallowed back a laugh and kept going, picking up the pace until they finally reached the top of the trail. Hannah grabbed hold of Boomer, the grip she had around his waist strong enough to cut off his breathing.
Boomer didn't seem to mind.
They watched in silence as the dinghy pushed away from the beach and headed toward the waiting boat. Waves crashed over the bow and more than once, Ninja expected it to capsize.
But it didn't. Ten minutes later, the crate was being hauled aboard, followed by the two people in the dinghy. A few minutes after that, the dinghy was hoisted on deck and the boat turned into the waves, moving further into the distance.
Ninja glanced down at his watch and frowned.
"I thought you said fifteen minutes."
"I also said it was a patch job."
"You sure you set it right?"
Boomer scowled at him, opened his mouth to say something—
And a fireball exploded on the horizon, big enough that Ninja felt the ground beneath his feet shake.
Ryder clamped him on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face.
"And that, my friend, is how I earned my name."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Three Days Later.
Sun glinted off the clear blue water and silky white sand. There was no sign of the storm that had battered the islands a few days before.
No sign of the death and destruction he had caused.
Ryder slid the sunglasses onto his face and stepped outside onto the patio. Warm air washed over him as the sun caressed his skin. It was a welcome change from the chill that had seized him the other day, when he'd thought that neither he nor Hannah would make it up that damn trail alive. The only thing that had kept him going, that had kept him pushing through the excruciating pain exploding in his skull, was Hannah. No matter what he did, no matter what he said, she wouldn't leave him. She had stayed by his side, her hand twisted into the waistband of his pants, refusing to let go.
Everything after that was still a blur.
Yes, he remembered the explosion. As impressive as it had been, he couldn't forget it. And it wasn't as if he didn't remember everything else that had happened—he did. But some of the details were fuzzier than they should be because of the damn concussion.
The hours after the explosion had been the worst, dragging on and on as the authorities finally showed up. Question after question, explaining what they knew for fact, speculating on what they didn't. Thank God Daryl had reached out to some of his contacts when Ninja finally got hold of him. If he hadn't, there was a good chance that all four of them would still be sitting in some dingy little office somewhere, answering the same questions over and over and over.
It also helped that the weasel came clean—about everything. He'd been drawn into the weapons smuggling by pure accident, had been forced to cooperate in exchange for Miller keeping quiet about the con he was running.
That didn't make him any less guilty, not as far as Ryder was concerned. If he had come clean at the very beginning, things wouldn't have gone as far as they did.
Then again, if he'd come clean, the Millers might have gotten off instead of serving time. Stranger things had happened. Find the right lawyer, spread some money around in the right places—yeah, they could have gotten off. Or at least been released to await trial somewhere and then promptly disappear. There was no chance of that happening now, not with both of them—and whoever else had been out on that boat with them that day—dead.
Tim had been killed simply because he'd accidentally stumbled onto that fourth crate while looking for a quiet place to get high. Ryder actually felt sorry for him.
Katie was yet another casualty but in a different way. She wasn't the Millers' granddaughter, wasn't related to them at all. Apparently, she'd been kidnapped more than ten years ago and forced into slavery. The Millers had purchased her four years ago. Purchased. What kind of sick fuck bought and sold another human being? The girl had been abused and frightened to the point that she simply did what she was told. Ryder didn't even want to think what she might have suffered at their hands to break her to such a point.
But she'd fought back, on that last night. Had somehow foun
d the courage to escape. That had been the catalyst that forced the Millers into acting when they did. Miller had been looking for her during those early morning hours in the storm—and found Ryder instead.
Ryder still didn't know why he wasn't fish bait at the bottom of the ocean right now. There had been nothing stopping Miller from tossing him into the water after bashing his head in—and there would have been nothing Ryder could have done to save himself.
Maybe it had been the storm. Maybe Miller was afraid his body would wash ashore too soon.
Maybe.
And maybe Ryder would never know the reason.
Could he live with that?
He turned his gaze to the woman stretched out in the lawn chair on the beach a few yards away.
Yeah, he could live with not knowing—as long as he had Hannah.
They still hadn't had that talk yet. They'd been too busy, answering questions and piecing together what had happened. They'd finally left the isolated island yesterday afternoon, taking the ferry back here and checking into the private resort. Allison and Ninja had flown home this morning but Ryder was staying here for a couple more days to fully recuperate.
Hannah insisted on staying with him.
Which was perfect, because they had what they needed right now: privacy. Time to decompress. Time to deal with everything that had happened.
Would it be enough?
Ryder had seen the disappointment and sadness in Hannah's eyes as she watched the small island she had called home for the last six months fade into the distance. She hadn't said as much but he knew she felt like she was abandoning the people she had come to love. That she was quitting what she had gone there to do before her job was finished.
Would she be able to walk away for good? She might convince herself she could but Ryder knew better. Hannah had been born to help others. That was who she was and nothing would change that. He didn't want anything to change that.
That was why he loved her, even after all these years.
And that was why he had walked away from her eleven years ago.
He adjusted his grip around the two mugs of coffee he'd made and walked out to the beach. Sand warmed his bare feet, the grains shifting beneath him with each step he took.
She looked up at his approach, a small smile curling her mouth. He handed her one of the mugs then eased his weight onto the lounge chair beside her and stretched out.
"How's the headache?"
"Gone. Finally." This morning had been the first time he'd awakened without it. He knew better to push himself, though. A few days of doing absolutely nothing would work wonders.
Not that he was accustomed to doing nothing—he wasn't. But this, just sitting here gazing out at the water—yeah, this was nice.
He took a long gulp of coffee then placed his mug on the small table set up between the lounge chairs. The air around them was peaceful, the silence between them relaxed and companionable.
And he was about to ruin it.
He had to. It was time.
He swung his legs over the side of the chair and braced his arms on his knees. Clasped his hands together and studied Hannah for a long minute. She was looking at him, had turned toward him as soon as he moved, expectation clear on her face.
He cleared his throat, stared down at his clasped hands. "Have you given any thought to what you're going to do now?"
She was quiet for a long time. Too long. She finally looked away, lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. "Go home, I guess. That's what I was planning to do anyway, with the holidays coming up."
"And after that?"
Another long minute of silence. Another small shrug. "I don't know. I had planned on coming back here but..."
There was nothing to come back to. Not anymore.
Ryder clenched his jaw, wondered again if he'd regret saying what he was about to say. Hell yeah, he'd regret it.
But he'd regret it more if he didn't.
"There are other volunteer organizations around. Other people who need your help."
Hannah nodded, reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I know."
"You shouldn't let what happened here stop you from doing what you want."
She tilted her head to the side, a frown marring the smooth skin of her forehead. "It almost sounds like you're trying to get rid of me."
"No." Ryder shook his head, "No, not even close. I just—you have a lot to offer, Hannah. I don't want you to stop doing what you love."
She nodded, looked away for a long minute then turned back to him. "Speaking of love..." Her voice trailed off thoughtfully. Warm eyes focused on him, the intensity in their depths enough to make him squirm.
He nodded, looked away even though she couldn't see his eyes behind the dark lenses. "Yeah."
"Did you mean it? When you said you loved me? Or did you only say it because you didn't think we were getting out of there?"
He could lie. Force the words through his lips with enough false sincerity that she'd believe him. He'd done it once before, there was nothing stopping him from doing it again.
But he couldn't. Not this time.
"I meant it."
"But?"
"No buts."
"Then why do I get the feeling that there's something you're not saying?"
He took a deep breath, released it slowly as he mulled the words over in his mind. No, there weren't any buts—just one hell of a big obstacle standing between them that she either couldn't see...or refused to acknowledge.
"Hannah, what I do—" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "What I do isn't pretty. It's not—"
"You help people, just like I do."
Ryder laughed, the sound short and brittle. "Help. Yeah, sure." He lowered his sunglasses and captured her gaze with his own. "And sometimes I don't."
"Are you talking about the Millers?"
"Yeah." But not just the Millers. There was a long list of people just like them. People he'd helped meet their end. He wasn't about to tell her that, though.
Ryder swallowed back the sharp disappointment crashing over him when Hannah swung her legs over the side of the lounge and stood. But instead of walking away like he'd expected—like he'd been sure she would do—she sat next to him and reached for his hand. Her touch was warm. Strong. Comforting.
"You really think what happened to them upsets me?"
"When I'm the one who did it? Yeah, I do."
"You're wrong, Ryder. What they did—you didn't have a choice."
"I did. We could have just left. We should have just left. I put your life at risk—"
"And how many lives did you save by doing that? How many more lives would they have taken if they'd gotten away?"
Ryder didn't have an answer to that. Nobody did.
"Ryder, you did what you had to do. I can't believe you'd think that would upset me."
"Sweetheart, it's not just that. Our lives are exact opposites. What I do and what you do—it takes us in two different directions. Maryland is my home now. I can't leave Cover Six Security, not knowing what I know. Not when there are so many more people like the Millers out there."
Hannah tilted her head to the side and frowned. No, that wasn't a frown—that was a scowl. "Did I ask you to leave?"
"No."
"No, I didn't." She kept talking like he hadn't answered. "And I wouldn't think of it, either. I don't know the details about everything you do but I know enough to realize it's important. I would never ask you to stop. That would just be selfish."
"And that's the point, Hannah. I'd never ask you to give up what you wanted. I'd never ask you to put your dreams and goals to the side. I never could. That's why I walked away all those years ago."
"Why do you think I'd be putting anything on hold?"
"Because what you do takes you all over the world."
"It doesn't have to. There are plenty of people who need help at home, too. I'd already thought about staying stateside after I was finished here."
Was she telling the truth? Or was she merely telling him that to make him feel better? Ryder didn't know—and that worried him. He'd already given her plenty to resent him for, from that stunt he'd pulled eleven years ago. He sure as hell didn't need to give her more reasons to resent him.
"What about everything else you wanted?"
The confusion marring her brow was genuine. "Like what?"
"Like happily-ever-after and a house full of kids."
She blinked. Blinked again. She covered her mouth with her hand but not before he saw her smile. And then she laughed and instead of easing his mind, that clear sound twisted his guts into knots.
"Why would you think that's what I want?"
"Because that's what you told me. Eleven years ago. When you proposed to me. Or don't you remember that?"
"Yes, I remember. Ryder, I was barely seventeen at the time. I had no idea what I wanted out of life—except for you."
He leaned back, unable to keep the skepticism from his eyes. "So that's not what you want anymore?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I haven't given it much thought. Having a partner to share things would be nice, but marriage? No, that's not in any plan I have right now. As far as kids..." A shadow passed in front of her eyes, quickly blinked away. "I'm not sure I want any, not with everything going on in the world today. Not when there are kids out there who have nobody."
"But you said—"
Her lips brushed against his, silencing him with the gentle kiss. "That was a long time ago, Ryder. And don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself?"
"Am I?"
"Yeah, you are." She pressed another kiss against his mouth, this one lingering. "Do you love me?"
"Yeah, I love you. I always have." The words came with no hesitation. No regret. With nothing but honesty. Hannah smiled, tightened her hand around his and stood.
"And I love you. Everything else can wait."
He pushed to his feet, let her lead him back to their suite. "Wait for what?"
"For us to get to know each other again. To figure out who we are together and what we want—together." She slid the patio door closed behind them and kept walking, a beautiful smile lighting her face as she led him into the bedroom.
The Defender: RYDER (Cover Six Security Book 3) Page 21