by Ciara Shayee
Surprised silence blanketed the room, everyone watching with confusion. Though Grace had warmed up and grown more confident in past weeks, she still hadn’t completely returned to the affectionate child she’d once been. They thought they’d lost her; the sweet child who’d loved to hug anybody, who’d inherited her mother’s loving, demonstrative nature.
And yet, here she was, almost completely entwined around a large man with sandy brown hair and a loud laugh muffled into her hair.
Indie felt her heart race as she watched Grace begin to tremble when a pair of strong, muscular arms tentatively wound around her back, a set of familiar, tear-filled, grey-blue eyes peering over the top of her head. Overcome by emotions she hadn’t expected and wasn’t fully prepared to deal with at that moment in time, Indie swallowed hard and sighed.
Suddenly, inexplicably, with the older children asleep upstairs, Bodhi safe in Sarah’s arms in the room next-door, Laker’s arms wrapped loosely around her, and the arrival of a man she trusted implicitly—just as she knew Grace did—Indie felt safer than, perhaps, she ever had.
Everything’s okay now.
“Hey, Ryan.”
chapter thirty
August 11th 2016 – A few hours after Indie’s abduction…
The drive from the cabin to Eastbourne took a little under five hours, thanks to Agent Logan’s lead foot on the accelerator. During this time, Jeremy filled Ryan in on the plan.
They’d narrowed down the route for Smith’s transfer to the station where he’d be held until he could go before a judge first thing in the morning. They’d also picked the spot where they’d intercept to forcefully take over said transfer. En route, they met up with five other men—when Ryan asked, they simply called themselves ‘mercenaries.’
By the time the group reached the interception point, Ryan was wound up and ready to crack some skulls.
Well, one skull in particular—Smith’s.
At first, when they pulled over and reversed into the trees he wasn’t sure what they were doing; then he saw the headlights. Seeing the convoy draw closer, Ryan felt the atmosphere in the vehicle change. The other men became noticeably quieter and more tense. Jeremy cracked his knuckles and double-checked his Glock, the guys up front doing the same. Ryan copied, sucking in a deep breath as he watched the headlights near, then pass them by. Logan started the engine, but left the lights off, and followed.
“All right, we’ve got Smith in the middle. Two other cars, four men in each,” came a voice from the earpiece Ryan had been instructed to wear.
“Okay. We expected more, so that’s good. Our boys must have had something to do with that,” Agent Briar muttered. “All right. Stick to the plan, boys, and this fucker will be dead by morning.”
Ryan’s heart raced as they neared the car in the back. They were all black SUVs, except the armoured van in the middle. Jeremy spoke about Riley a lot, but Ryan had never seen him for himself.
It was obvious when the convoy noticed they had a tail.
The SUV in the rear slowed slightly, something Jeremy predicted would happen. “They’ll try to let the others get ahead a bit now while they deal with us,” he told Ryan with a grin as Logan closed on the vehicle.
However, instead of doing as Jeremy said and speeding off ahead, the cars in front slowed.
Ryan glanced at Jeremy beside him, then at Agent Briar and Agent Logan in the front. They all looked equally as confused. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t…know.”
As Logan spoke, the car directly in front of them flashed its indicators twice, then a head popped out of the passenger side window. The man wore a wide grin and held out a thumb before holding up his hands in the universal sign for ‘surrender’.
“Well, fuck me…it’s Oliver!”
Thoroughly perplexed, Ryan remained in the emptying car as the three agents disembarked to join the guy climbing out of the car in front. They embraced with the familiarity of friends with back-slaps and handshakes all-round. When Jeremy waved him out, Ryan only made it a few steps before recognition hit.
“What the fuck…Paul?”
“Ryan. Good to see you again. And it’s ‘Harvey’, not ‘Paul’, though most people just call me ‘Oliver’.”
Before Ryan knew it, he’d been pulled into a man-hug, and then found himself staring into the eyes of a man he’d once only suspected to be FBI, but now knew to be.
“You too, man. So, ‘Paul’?”
“My undercover alias,” Oliver admitted with a wolfish grin.
Seeing Paul—no, Oliver, in black cargo pants, a fitted black Henley, and black boots, Ryan suddenly wondered how he could ever have believed this man was anything other than a highly-trained FBI agent. He stood differently, though, and his voice…there was something distinctly different about that, too. It was surreal to see him this way; so obviously in control and knowledgeable.
He briefly wondered how many times he’d made himself look an idiot by warning Oliver away from the guns the ranch hands used to scare bears off the ranch.
“Alright, reunion outta the way,” Jeremy laughed, clapping Ryan on the shoulder and looking to Oliver. “So, what’s going on here?”
Oliver grinned; his smile was wide and more than a little sinister. “We heard about your plan. We’ve already got something in store for this piece’a shit, but you’re more than welcome to join us, if you want.”
Jeremy cast a look at his fellow agents, at Ryan, then shrugged at Oliver. “Let’s have it, then.”
Fifteen minutes later, Ryan climbed back into the vehicle with the guys, a little disappointed by the lack of action. That said, as the tires screeched along the road, the convoy splitting up as Logan made sure to skid close enough to the secure van holding Smith that it wobbled, Ryan was secure in the knowledge that he’d still be getting what he wanted even if he had been left out of the new plan.
Smith would suffer, and suffer greatly, if these guys got their way. And he had no doubt that they would.
They were fighting machines. Mercenaries, soldiers for hire with a purpose—to make this piece of shit suffer and regret ever laying a hand on Grace and Indie. Ryan suspected that, in this case, their mission was being headed up by none other than Harvey Oliver.
He’d seen the look in his hazel eyes, heard the fire in his words, and felt the hatred for Smith saturating every glance towards the truck currently protecting him.
Ryan had a feeling that if it weren’t for the plan they already had in place, Oliver would have ripped Smith to shreds right there on the side of the road.
It wouldn’t have surprised him in the least if nobody moved to stop him, either.
~ oOo ~
It wasn’t until days later that Ryan heard what had happened.
He wasn’t ashamed to admit he cried when Jeremy told him Indie had been hurt, as had her childhood friend when he attempted to save her. He also wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d broken a table in his rage when he heard Indie had gone into labour and almost lost her life because of the ordeal.
A picture Riley sent Jeremy when he asked for an update cheered Ryan up, though.
It was a simple image, with four people in the small screen of Jeremy’s phone.
Grace, Indie, Marley…and Bodhi.
He hadn’t even known she was pregnant. Thinking back, he could only think of one person who could be the father—Simon Caine. He’d shown up randomly after a supply run one day, and Smith had let him stay in an out of character act of mercy. He’d hung around for a little while, never really gotten close to anybody, but never caused any trouble.
Then he’d disappeared.
Ryan was certain he’d have noticed Indie acting strangely around any of the other guys if it had been them. A little digging later and he’d been informed that he was right. Indie had admitted the father was Simon Caine and it hadn’t been against her will. He found it hard to believe, but he accepted it. Indie admitted everything else; why would she lie about this? She had no reas
on to.
With the knowledge that Indie was safe with her babies, and that Grace was, too, Ryan could relax.
Especially when, later the same day, Ryan and Jeremy got the call about Smith’s death. He’d only lasted a few hours in the cell before Oliver and his accomplice got to him.
He’d been killed painfully, slowly, and suffered immensely before he was allowed to die.
Jeremy and Ryan celebrated with cold beers and pizzas.
~ oOo ~
The sleek black car rolled to a stop outside the house, Jeremy reaching out to clap Ryan on the shoulder. “All right man, go get your girl.”
Ryan shook his head with a nervous grin and disembarked, immediately spotting the man exiting the car parked in front. “You must be the infamous Riley.”
Riley crossed the pavement with a grin, shaking Ryan’s hand with a firm grip. “That’s right. Riley Lawrence, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I understand we owe our girls’ lives to your quick thinking.”
Ryan found himself uncharacteristically embarrassed at Riley’s words, recognising his distinct accent from the phone calls they’d shared in previous days. “Well, I…er,” he cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t say that. Those girls are fighters. They’re where they are today because of themselves.”
He watched Riley appraise him, then nod firmly, as though pleased with what he saw.
“I completely agree. You ready?”
Sucking in a deep breath, Ryan stood straight and turned to peer at the simple row of terraced houses they faced. Somehow, they seemed to fit the girls. They were homey and the lawns were littered with children’s toys. Family cars were in the driveways and he could see half a ‘Birthday Boy’ banner hanging down in the window of one of them. Ryan had hoped the girls would get to see this again, would get to live normal lives. Though he’d never lived a normal life himself, or had the typical family home, he recognised this to be exactly the kind of life they deserved.
The kind of life they’d been missing all these years.
But God, he’d missed them. He had an ache in his gut and electricity sparking all over his body at the thought of seeing them again.
And now…they were just yards away.
He’d missed Indie’s softness, and seeing her with Marley. He’d missed Marley’s sweet smiles and girlish giggles.
And Grace…
He wasn’t ashamed to admit, despite his confusion over his own emotions, that he’d missed her more than he’d ever missed anybody before.
“Yeah. I’m ready.”
Riley nodded, chuckling as he walked up the garden path like he owned the place. Ryan supposed he’d been there frequently in past weeks, so he was fairly familiar with the house. As they got closer to the front door, the agent paused.
“I’ll go in ahead and explain everything. I’ll hit the ‘call’ button on my cell when I’m ready for you to come in, all right? When you feel your phone vibrate, you’re clear to enter. Understood?”
“Understood.”
Ryan wiped his clammy palms on his cargo pants as he stood in the hallway of the house—Indie’s family home, judging by the slight majority of photos containing her and a dark-haired boy he assumed to be her brother—and listened to Riley breaking the news of Smith’s death to the family. He didn’t know who was there, but he almost cursed out loud when a small woman cradling a baby left the kitchen and made him jump before moving into the living room. She offered him a smile on her way past, obviously mistaking him for one of Riley’s agents. There were still a fair few posted in various locations around the properties, most of them only visible to knowing eyes.
Then, he felt it. His cell.
It vibrated in his pocket against his thigh, Ryan’s fist clenching around it. “C’mon, McCabe. Get a grip. It’s the girls.”
And their dads, their brother…God knows who else.
Thinking of Indie, of Marley, of Grace, Ryan released a long sigh and took the steps separating him from his favourite girls. As he made it to the doorway of the kitchen he immediately spotted Grace, as though his eyes knew exactly where to look. The sweet relief that flowed through his veins was instantaneous and he instinctively moved to catch her body as she flew across the room, tears already splashing over her cheeks when she collided with his body.
For the first time, maybe ever, Ryan felt every ounce of tension drain from his body as he held Grace to him and met Indie’s gaze over her head, unable to feel nervous of her family’s reaction when he’d been so desperate to see her safe and well with his own eyes.
It didn’t occur to him until much later that this was the first time Grace had ever hugged him, the first time he’d ever held her or felt the tendrils of her hair against his chin; yet he felt more familiarity in that hug, more at home in her presence, than ever before.
As Indie’s eyes softened, her stance relaxing infinitesimally, Ryan thought she might just feel it, too.
“Hey, Ryan.”
chapter thirty-one
For the longest time, no one moved.
No one spoke, and it almost felt as though no one even breathed.
Grace’s sobs abated as she pulled back to peer up at his face. “I can’t believe…it’s you! You’re here. You’re really here.”
He grinned, nerves visible within the tears in his grey eyes. “And here I was, worried you’d have forgotten all about me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
Indie heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs a second before the ensuing squeal of excitement roused everybody from their collective stupors.
The force with which Marley slammed into the backs of his legs made Ryan wobble slightly. He held onto Grace’s waist as he righted himself, twisting to look down at the happy little girl.
“Well, hello there, little missy.”
“Did you come to see me?”
Ryan was visibly startled. Grace smiled, stroking Marley’s head of chocolate curls. “Mars, Ryan hasn’t heard you speak yet.”
Marley peered between Grace and Ryan, flashing the latter a wide, toothy grin. “I talk all the time!”
Bending at the knees, Grace tapped Marley gently on the tip of her nose. “But you didn’t used to speak at all, Mars. I think Ryan is a bit surprised.”
“I’d say, more than a bit!” Ryan cried, ruffling Marley’s hair and opening his arms to her.
Grace stepped back to let Ryan scoop up Marley, swiping at the tears still leaking from her eyes. The sight of him holding Marley…
It made her feel things. Things she could only have imagined before that moment. Seeing him, standing there in the doorway of her uncle’s house, having wondered about his fate so often, Grace hadn’t been able to stop herself from checking for herself that he was really there.
As she’d crossed the room, her legs on autopilot, she hadn’t paused to think about what her actions might look like to her family.
Even as Marley introduced him to everyone, Grace couldn’t take her eyes off Ryan.
Truthfully, she hadn’t thought she’d ever get to see him again. Riley had explained his need for protection and wouldn’t even tell her where he’d been placed in protective custody. Her thoughts reminded Grace of the reason for him being there now.
Smith was dead. Somebody had killed him. Apparently someone with the determination, and ability, to get past heavy security.
“Are you okay?”
Grace felt Sarah wrap her arm around her waist as she leaned into her. She’d proven to be a great source of comfort in recent weeks, so Grace let herself be soothed as she followed Ryan around the room with her eyes.
“I…I’m okay.”
Sarah smiled, adjusting Bodhi against her chest before giving Grace a gentle squeeze. “You’re happy he’s here.”
It wasn’t a question, but Grace felt herself nod anyway. Her lips tipped upwards into a shaky smile. “I am. I didn’t realise how much I missed him until just now.”
“He doesn’t frighten you?”
/> Frowning, Grace looked at Sarah; she found her wearing a wide, knowing smile. Her kind, hazel eyes were soft and held secrets Grace couldn’t even guess at. “No. Ryan is…he’s not…”
“He’s different?” she supplied softly when Grace couldn’t find words.
Different…“Yeah. Ryan’s always been different.”
The older woman hummed, pressing a kiss to Grace’s temple before handing Bodhi to Indie and joining Andy to introduce herself to Ryan. Grace watched as he smiled and kissed Sarah’s hand, then peered across the room at her. Frozen, Grace remained in that spot until he excused himself from Andy and Sarah’s company and made his way over.
Suddenly feeling shy, Grace ducked her head and sucked in a deep breath.
“Hey, Missy,” he murmured, gently nudging her face up with his thumb on her chin. When she forced herself to meet his gaze, his eyes were gentle and warm despite their grey-blue hue. “Are you okay?”
“A little overwhelmed, I think.”
Ryan chuckled, the sound rueful. “Me too. I missed you, you know?”
Grace’s cheeks flushed. “I missed you, too.”
As they stared into each other’s eyes, the air around Ryan and Grace seemed to swirl and change in texture and colour. They were oblivious to all but one another. Grace’s heart raced as Ryan released a long huff of breath that fanned across her face. It smelled minty and vaguely smoky, as though he’d shared space with somebody who’d been smoking, but not actually done so himself. She unconsciously leaned toward him, her emotions pooling and leaking from her body in the form of salty tears.
Ryan reached up with the hand resting on her chin to swipe a lone drop of moisture from her cheek. He smiled; just a small upward curl of his lips, but one all the same. “Hey, it’s okay.”
Grace nodded, embarrassed to be crying but unable to deny the comfort his touch brought her. She sighed, battling briefly with what she wanted to do and what she thought she should, before realising something profound. Something that she should probably have realised a long time ago.