Claiming Felicity

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Claiming Felicity Page 5

by Susan Stoker


  “Felicity is already my sister in all ways that matter,” Logan said firmly. “I’m having a hard time being pissed at you for staking your claim because from where I’m standing, Felicity needs a man like you to have her back. But let us fucking help, dammit.”

  Ryder nodded. “When I have more information, I’ll let you know. But you should know, I have my own backup as well.”

  “But they’re not here. They’re in Colorado Springs,” Logan guessed—correctly.

  “True.”

  “But we are here. We’re going to help,” Logan told him.

  “You’re a pain in the ass,” Ryder commented dryly.

  “So Grace tells me. This settled? You’ll keep us informed?”

  “Yeah. As soon as I find anything out, I’ll let you know.”

  “Good. Oh, and Ryder?”

  “What?” he asked, exasperated. “Jesus, I think I might just miss being an only child if you keep this badgering up.”

  Logan’s lips quirked up into a smile, but then he tilted his head to the window and said, “If you want to find anything out today, you might want to get going.”

  Ryder’s head whipped around, and he saw Felicity walking quickly down the sidewalk toward the parking lot and her PT Cruiser. He was up and moving in a moment. He heard Logan chuckling behind him, but all his attention was focused on Felicity’s hips as she headed away from him.

  Felicity turned the key in her little PT Cruiser, and just as she was putting the car in gear, the door on the passenger side opened, and a man fell onto the seat next to her.

  She screamed and scrambled for the handle of the door, trying desperately to get out.

  “Jesus, it’s me, Ryder. Fuck. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Felicity turned wide eyes to the man next to her and tried to catch her breath. She closed her eyes and concentrated on lowering her heart rate. “You scared me to death.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. But you know . . . I could’ve been anyone. You obviously thought so too. You should be more vigilant.”

  Felicity took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and ordered in as harsh a voice as she was capable of right that second, “Get out.”

  “Nope. I’m comfortable right here,” Ryder said, shutting the door and crossing his arms over his chest.

  She almost snorted out loud because he didn’t look comfortable. Not in the least. She wasn’t that much shorter than he was, but for some reason seeing him scrunched in the little seat next to her made her want to laugh.

  But she couldn’t laugh. She needed to get rid of him. Felicity wasn’t an idiot. She knew Ryder had been following her around for the last week. Knew he wanted to talk to her, get her to tell him what she was running from, but she couldn’t. All she wanted was to be left alone . . . wasn’t it?

  She couldn’t deny his words last week felt good. Really good. She wanted to be free. Hated looking over her shoulder all the time. But she couldn’t risk his life. Or Grace’s. Or anyone else’s. No, leaving town was the best thing for everyone. She didn’t really need the money Cole was holding hostage. She’d left Chicago long ago with less cash than she had now, and she’d managed. She was stalling because for the first time, she didn’t want to go. She liked Castle Rock. Loved her friends. Enjoyed her job at the gym even if it wasn’t what she’d envisioned herself doing back when she was in college.

  “Seriously, Ryder. Get out. I’m just going to the store. You can continue stalking me when I get back.”

  “I could pick some stuff up,” he told her evenly.

  “I mean it. I don’t want you here.”

  His voice dropped. “Tough.”

  “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it a long time,” she argued.

  “I know you have, love, but now you don’t have to.”

  “Argh . . . do you have a comeback for everything?”

  “Yup.”

  Felicity glared at him for another beat, then sighed and gave in. She refused to admit to herself that she felt safer with him around. Nope, he’d never leave her alone if she did that. Only one thing had happened in the last week—an old newspaper clipping about her college roommate’s death had arrived in the mail. She knew exactly who’d sent it. He was up to his usual tricks . . . slowly and surely attempting to freak her out, to make her feel less and less safe. She had no doubt he’d escalate his little gifts in the coming weeks. She almost preferred he just make his move and be done with it, but she knew he wanted her to suffer first.

  Sighing, Felicity put the car in gear and backed out of the parking space. Making sure to look both ways for anything or anyone that might be suspicious before she pulled out, they were finally on their way.

  “When did you move to Castle Rock?” Ryder asked.

  Felicity stiffened. It looked like the inquisition was starting immediately. “About five years ago. Give or take a few months.” When he didn’t respond or ask anything else, Felicity risked glancing over at him. He was staring out the front of the vehicle, and she could see his jaw clenching.

  For the first time in ten years, she wanted to spill her guts to someone. Ryder made her want to lower the shields she’d put up when she stepped foot out of her mom’s house, and let someone in. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it a second later. No, she couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk him.

  It was stupid. She didn’t know Ryder. Didn’t care about him. Since she wasn’t emotionally attached to him, he could help her, and if something happened to him, she wouldn’t care . . . right? Inwardly, she sighed. God help her, she did care about him. Even after such a short time, she couldn’t deny his protectiveness was intoxicating and flattering. Not to mention he was freaking gorgeous.

  He was muscular and built; he obviously worked out. His brown hair was constantly messy, as if he frequently ran a hand through the strands. He had a five o’clock shadow on his square jaw, and his nose was just crooked enough for her to think he must have broken it at one time. His hands were large, with calluses on them. She remembered that from when she’d shaken his hand last week and when he’d touched her neck. His shoulders were broad, and she had a feeling he carried quite a load on them . . . with no problem.

  But most of all, she was drawn to the way he made her feel. He didn’t treat her as if she was Wonder Woman, but neither did he make her feel weak. Ryder Sinclair was more alpha than any man she’d ever met, and that was saying something, considering she’d been hanging around the Anderson brothers and Cole. But instead of getting her dander up and making her want to take him down a peg, it made her want to let him stand in front of her and face the dangers in her life for her. Even though she knew Joseph was out there somewhere, watching her, she didn’t feel nearly as freaked as she should. Because of Ryder.

  The grocery store Felicity liked to go to was up in Denver. It carried organic and specialty food that she couldn’t get in Castle Rock. She gave Ryder credit—he didn’t ask where they were going as she pulled onto the interstate and headed north, he just sat next to her in silence, letting her have her space . . . for now.

  They spent an hour walking around the store together. He teased her for her purchases, and she made fun of him for buying nothing more than a dozen doughnuts, a box of granola bars, and a bag of almonds.

  “Is that what you’ve been eating?”

  He shrugged. “Not much space in the hotel. Besides, I’ve been eating at the coffee shop a lot.”

  “What? Why there? They don’t even have real food. Just muffins and stuff.”

  He met her eyes dead-on and said, “Because it’s across the street from the gym, and I can keep an eye on you from there.”

  She stopped in the middle of the aisle and stammered, “Ryder . . . you . . . why?”

  He leaned toward her and said softly, “Because I told you I’d make sure you were free of whatever is haunting you. And the only way I can do that is to keep you in my sights.”

  Felicity bit her lip and struggled to fi
nd the words to express what she was thinking. Unlike most people, he let her think. He didn’t fill the silence with empty words. Finally, she looked up at him and said, “You can’t make me safe. No one can.”

  It was more than she’d admitted about her personal life in a really long time.

  As if he understood how much of a concession it was for her to say even that, he slowly brought his hand up and ran his palm over her short, spiked hair. His eyes followed his hand and came back to her face when he gripped the back of her neck in a tight, but comforting, grip. “I can make you safe.” It sounded like a vow.

  “You can’t.”

  “I can,” he insisted. “When we get back to Castle Rock, invite me up to your apartment. We’ll talk. I’ll give you my résumé, my real résumé, the one no one but my handler knows. Then you can decide if you trust me to keep you safe or not.”

  “Your handler?”

  His brows went up, as if in a challenge.

  Felicity felt herself giving in. She wanted to stay in Castle Rock. But she wanted to protect her friends more. Her leaving wouldn’t guarantee their safety, a fact that she admitted to herself for the first time. He could go after them as a way to get to her after she left. Could she trust Ryder? She didn’t know, but she was just selfish enough to give him a chance.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.” He applied pressure to her neck, and she willingly let him pull her forward. Right there, in the middle of the store, filled with yuppies and parents on the hunt for food they deemed “safe” for their children, Ryder wrapped his arms around her and held on tight.

  Felicity ducked her head and laid it on his broad shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his waist and let him hold her. For the first time since she was twenty years old, she leaned on someone else. It felt good. Too good. But she couldn’t manage to tear herself away.

  “I told you once, and I’ll tell you again. I’m gonna fix this for you, love,” Ryder said quietly.

  “I don’t think you can,” she mumbled.

  “I can. And I will.”

  He said it with such conviction, she almost believed him.

  Chapter Four

  Ryder stood behind Felicity as she nervously fumbled with the lock at her apartment door and frowned. There were so many things that were security issues, his fingers twitched with the need to fix them. Her door wasn’t terribly sturdy, as it was simply another door in the interior of the gym. There was a stairwell in the back hall of the gym that led to a skinny hallway on the second floor of the building that needed more lighting. Felicity explained that the other rooms were used for storage, for the most part, which someone could easily hide in. She’d explained that a small apartment was built into the space when the blueprints were drawn up.

  It was obvious Felicity wasn’t comfortable having Ryder in her apartment, but she’d just have to get over it. She didn’t know it, but letting him into her private space was akin to agreeing to be his. She wasn’t a woman who trusted easily, and being invited into her apartment seemed intimate. It shouldn’t have felt so right to step inside her place, but it did.

  He could smell her scent stronger here. She always smelled good, especially when he’d held her in his arms in the middle of the grocery store, but here it was ten times stronger. Lilacs. It was just one more thing about her that didn’t “fit” her outward appearance.

  As he’d pointed out to Logan, she wasn’t tough at all. She was broken. And Ryder knew it because he’d been just like her at one point. The first time he’d killed a man, he fell into a pit of despair so deep he didn’t think he’d ever be able to pull himself out. And to compensate, he’d put on a mask and created a new persona, just as Felicity had.

  But he’d only worn his tough-guy image for a year before he’d shed it around his teammates and friends. Friends who truly understood what he was feeling. Felicity had been wearing her take-no-shit exterior so long, there were only glimpses of the tender woman underneath. But Ryder had seen them. Loud and clear. And it was that woman he wanted to know. Wanted to be his. He just needed to chip away at her tough outer shell one bad memory at a time.

  They brought the grocery bags into the kitchen, and he handed her items as she put them away. They worked together in a companionable silence. After everything was stowed in its proper spot, she turned and waved her arm around the small apartment, which could be seen from the galley kitchen. “It’s not much.”

  And it wasn’t.

  It was clinical.

  Depressing.

  There wasn’t one personal touch in the small space.

  The walls were a boring white. There were no pictures. No splashes of color. No girlie pillows on the black sofa in the middle of the living area. There might’ve been DVDs inside the cabinet next to the television, but Ryder doubted it. No books. No piles of mail sitting around. He might as well have been in his hotel room for all the personality the place had. It was hard to believe she’d been living there for as long as she had.

  He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

  Felicity rolled her eyes. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “What do you have?”

  She went to the fridge and opened it, as if she had no idea and had to look to see. “Water, beer, and V8 juice.”

  Ryder raised his eyebrows at the industrial-size water dispenser in the corner of the kitchen.

  She shrugged. “I drink a lot, and Cole told me I should just order one of the dispensers we have sitting around the gym for myself up here. So I did. When I run out, I just grab one of the water jugs from downstairs. It’s easier, and cheaper, than constantly buying smaller bottles.”

  “Water’s fine,” Ryder told her when she finished her explanation.

  She nodded and grabbed a glass, filled it up from the dispenser, and handed it to him. She poured one for herself as well and leaned back against the counter. “So . . . you wanted to talk?”

  Ryder took a sip of the water, then nodded. He held out his hand without a word.

  Felicity looked at his hand, then up at his face, then back to his hand.

  He stood stock-still, waiting for her.

  Just when he thought she was going to brush by him and ignore his gesture, at the last second she lifted her hand and placed it in his.

  Ryder felt his dick twitch in his pants, but ignored it. Her small show of trust went straight to his heart. She didn’t trust easily, if at all. Her taking his hand wasn’t exactly spilling her guts, but it was a start. He could work with it.

  Closing his fingers around hers, he led her into the other room. He gestured to the couch, and she sat. He followed suit, sitting right next to her. So close their thighs touched. She went to scoot away from him, but he squeezed her hand. “Stay?”

  She took a deep breath and nodded.

  Resting their hands on his knee, he got right to it.

  “When I was nineteen years old, I was a private first class in the Army. I was on patrol in a city in Iraq. Our job was to walk around, get to know the locals, show them that we weren’t any danger to them, earn their trust. I didn’t mind it. The kids were my favorite part. We couldn’t communicate that well with each other, as they didn’t know English, and I didn’t speak their language either, but we communicated with hand gestures and facial expressions. They were innocent and so easily amused. Children here in the States have every electronic gadget imaginable. They’re entertained by television and cartoons. They get Happy Meals and fast food whenever their parents will relent and buy them for them. These kids had nothing. Maybe a ball. Sticks and rocks. But they were as happy as any kids I’ve ever seen. Their faces would light up when they saw us. They’d follow us all over the village.”

  Ryder took a deep breath. He’d never told anyone this story before. His handler, Rex, knew what had happened, probably from reading the official report from that day. He’d mentioned it once in passing, but hadn’t asked any questions, and they hadn’t discussed it at all.

  Felicity squeezed his
hand. She didn’t say a word, but that small nonverbal movement said more than she knew. He needed her compassion to continue.

  He didn’t look at her, but went on. “One day we were patrolling as usual, and I noticed a little girl who always greeted us wasn’t there. Zariya was ten. She had beautiful black hair that came down to the middle of her back. It was always a mess, tangled from blowing in the wind. She let me braid it once, after we’d walked through the entire village and had fifteen minutes to kill. It was soft. So soft. It reminded me of my mom’s hair. She taught me to braid, and the time we spent together in the mornings when I braided her hair was something I missed when I left home.” Ryder took a deep breath before continuing. “I asked one of the boys where Zariya was, and he pointed to an alley with a lot of doors. The squad had been down it, but we hadn’t seen or heard anything unusual. Me and my friends went where the boy had pointed, wanting to say hello to the happy little girl. When we approached one of the doors, we heard crying from inside. Not hesitating, we knocked, then entered.”

  Ryder stopped. This was harder than he thought it’d be. He didn’t know if he could continue. Didn’t know if he could bare his soul to Felicity like this. He wanted her to trust him, but had second thoughts about telling her this story. Suddenly he didn’t think she’d feel safe around him if she knew what he’d done that day.

  “Was it bad?” she asked softly.

  “Yeah.” His voice cracked on the word.

  “Tell me,” she urged.

  Ryder cleared his throat. He’d come this far, he might as well finish it. “We walked in and saw the place was a mess. Trash everywhere, and it stunk. Like the worst body odor you could ever imagine. But the thing that stuck out to me was a pile of black hair on the dirt floor in front of us. I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing, but I knew it wasn’t good. We heard whimpering from nearby, and we all moved that way. Two of my friends were in front of me, and they stopped in the doorway. I pushed past them, and it took me a moment to understand what I was seeing.

  “It was Zariya. The bastard had shaved her head. Bald. Probably to punish her for something she’d done. He was in bed, on top of her. She was whimpering and crying, but he didn’t even care. My buddies and I were pissed, and one took hold of my arm and tried to pull me out of the room. I remember staring at him as if he was crazy. We couldn’t leave her there. Not like that. Then he pointed to the side of the room. To a white dress. A fucking wedding dress. Zariya’s parents had allowed her to be married to a man at least four times her age. And he was raping her.”

 

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