Ryder

by Patricia A. Rasey

  The exact way Ryder preferred it.

  When the knock came, he had just begun to unscrew the top from a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and partake while he waited for the nightlife to get into full swing. Ryder preferred to mingle among the crowds, giving him a better chance to blend in. Though this far south, there weren’t many Americans, he stood out like a beacon in the masses.

  So much for commingling.

  Pushing away the bottle from the table’s edge, he stood. His front door had the security peephole, but there wasn’t one on the back entrance. Ryder had no choice but to open it in order to see who had come calling by way of his rear-facing porch.

  Sticking his Sig Sauer P226 Legion into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back, Ryder crossed the few steps of his studio. No, he didn’t need the gun for self-defense, but the person on the other side wouldn’t know that. Aged wood creaked beneath his feet, no doubt alerting the person he was at home. Keeping one hand on the grip of his gun, he opened the door a crack.

  “It’s about fucking time.” The door slammed inward, knocking into Ryder’s shoulder and causing him to step back. “What are you afraid of the boogeyman?”

  “You’re damn lucky I didn’t shoot your sorry ass on sight.” Ryder shook his head, removed his gun from his waistband, and laid it on the table. “What the fuck are you doing here, Gunner?”

  “Wolf’s on his way, too. We raced by foot. I won.” He guffawed. “I thought he was supposed to have superior speed and all because he’s my elder. Hell, he’s just old.”

  Grigore walked in through the door and slammed it closed behind him. “I’m not too old to kick your ass. Besides, forty-five ain’t old in vampire years.”

  “Can’t you two do anything quietly?” Ryder picked up the Jack, used the pad of his thumb to finish twisting off the cap and brought the bottle to his mouth, swallowing a good couple of fingers of the amber liquid. “If you two idiots don’t knock it off, I’ll kick both your sorry asses.”

  “Why don’t you throw your primordial strength in our faces, for fuck’s sake? You just got lucky being related to Radu.” Grigore snatched the bottle of Jack from Ryder’s hand and took a large swig. He set it on the table and wiped the back of his hand across his bearded face. “We’re here to finalize our plans.”

  “You could’ve called,” Ryder grumbled.

  “And what fun would that be?” Gunner slapped Ryder on the shoulder. “If I’m going to get my dumb ass shot, I might as well have fun with it.”

  “You know once I shoot you, you’re done down here, right? That you’ll need to head back to Washington and I won’t have to see your ugly mug again?”

  Gunner shrugged. “Why the hell do you think I’m so anxious to get on with the plan, Ryder? To get back home. This heat is enough to turn a fucking vampire into a melted pile of goo.”

  Ryder couldn’t blame him. Sweat ran down the center of his back, even with the poorly working air-conditioner chugging away on the wall, making the heat barely tolerable.

  Grigore picked up the T-shirt draped across the table’s chair and tossed it at him. “Put that on, for crying out loud. Cover that shit up before my muscles get jealous and expect me to do something ridiculous like work out.”

  Ryder caught the shirt. “There’s got to be a jelly donut somewhere in the city with your name on it, Wolf.”

  “Damn straight there is.”

  Pulling the shirt over his head, he stuck his arms through the holes and draped the material across his abs. “What prompted this visit? You two buffoons don’t have anything better to do than harass me?”

  Grigore pulled out a chair, stepped over the seat, and straddled it, crossing his arms over the back. Despite his earlier jest, Grigore was built like a beast. His forearms were massive and covered with tattoos. He wasn’t classically good-looking, but women seemed to dig the rugged vibe he had going. The sheer size of him made him a formable opponent without vampire strength.

  A few days had passed since his run-in with Gabriela and Sergio. Ryder wasn’t convinced they should go in with guns blazing just yet. He needed to give Sergio a chance to cool off lest he toss out Ryder upon arrival. Not to mention, he needed a little more time with Gabriela. Ryder could tell he had her interest, but it wasn’t without a bit of mistrust. Winning her over wouldn’t be easy, especially once he “killed” Gunner in cold blood. Gabriela would view him no better than the men who work for her father, which certainly would not gain him brownie points in the romance department.

  “We were bored.”

  “You were, shithead.” Grigore stood and slapped Gunner on the back of the head. Gunner might have been a few inches taller, but Grigore made up for it in mass.

  “That’s because you’re old. Look at those grays.”

  Grigore chuckled, and sat down again, patting the few grays threading the hair at the sides of his head. His beard was salt-and-peppered, with more white centered at his chin. “The ladies like it. They call the look ‘distinguished.’”

  Ryder shook his head, knowing Grigore was anything but old. He had gotten the grays in his early thirties before he had turned. “I bet they do.”

  With a wink, Grigore said, “Don’t count me out, boys. I get my fair share of the ladies. Now, enough of the ‘what’s fashionable’ lesson, let’s get this plan ironed out. If we’re going to shoot Gunner, we need to make sure this goes off without a hitch. We can’t have one of Raúl’s men taking aim and actually shooting our boy here.”

  “Boy? Fuck you, Wolf.”

  Grigore laughed again, the sound deep and rumbling up from his gut. “What do you have in mind, Ryder? Spell it out. We can’t afford mistakes.”

  “Let’s give this a week, then we can put this into action. I need a little more time with Gabriela to make sure I have her interest before this goes down and blows any chance with her. She doesn’t seem too fond of her uncle’s men.” Ryder scratched the back of his head and blew out a steady stream of air. “Hell, this might blow any chance I have anyway, but I don’t see any other way to get in with Raúl’s soldiers. I need them to open the door and I won’t get that without their respect. Getting an in with Gabby? That might not get me an audience with Raúl if she’s not too keen on me meeting her uncle. We need his whereabouts. I believe Luis and Sergio might be my straightest line to the big guy.”

  “I can’t help but agree,” Grigore said. “Gabriela might be a bit more protective over that side of her life. Not like she’d be using Raúl for bragging rights.”

  Gunner walked to the window and looked down on the busy street. “Not that all this isn’t fun, but if my time is limited, we might as well get this show on the road. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not spend my time thinking about it.”

  One of Grigore’s eyebrows raised. He smiled. “You don’t like the idea of getting shot?”

  “No, smart ass.” Gunner turned around and glared at Grigore. “I don’t. I’ve been shot a few times before and it hurts like hell. I don’t suppose being a vampire changes that.”

  “Not at all. You’ll just heal faster and the bullet won’t leave a scar.” Grigore looked at Ryder. “Which means, after you shoot him, we won’t have hours to bury him. You’ll need to get his big ass in the trunk and to the woods before anyone notices the bullet wound is missing amongst all of the blood.”

  “Is burying me necessary? Can’t you just toss me in a shallow ditch or something?”

  “Worry much?” It was Ryder’s turn to chuckle.

  Gunner seated himself on the windowsill. “I’m claustrophobic, okay?”

  “If all goes to plan, and it’s just me leaving with your body, then we won’t need to bury you. We’ll designate a pickup point for Grigore and the guys, and then you get to hide out for a few days. Once we’re in the clear and everything goes according to the plan, you get to head back to Washington. Your job will be done since we can’t risk you being seen.”

  “What if one of Raúl’s goons wants to tag al
ong?” Grigore asked.

  “That’s when I’ll have no choice but to bury Gunner. So, make sure there’s a shovel in the trunk of that car. We’ll meet in the same place, but you’ll need to stay out of site. Once we’re out of there, then you and the rest of the guys get to dig him up.”

  Grigore appeared deep in thought. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took another swig. “You know, now that I’m thinking about it, we’ll need to bury Gunner, either way, leave him there for a short time.”

  “What the fuck for?” Gunner’s tone rose.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll survive. I’ll make sure you get enough oxygen to breathe.” Grigore rubbed the white of his beard. “If they let Ryder go on his own to bury you, they aren’t likely going to trust him. They’ll follow, make sure Ryder does as he says. They aren’t about to take his white-ass word for it.”

  “You’re right.”

  Gunner grumbled. “Not only do I get shot, but now I get to eat dirt from six feet under.”

  “Seriously?” Ryder laughed. “You think I’m going to bother burying you that fucking deep? I don’t want to be there all night digging. It will be shallow. And if we need to, Wolf will be ready with a straw. You’ll survive and you’ll get to go home. So, quit your fucking whining. The rest of us will be down here for the long haul.”

  “For however long it takes,” Grigore added, giving Ryder a high-five. “We’re going to get this son of a bitch. We won’t stop until we allow Viper his vengeance. Raúl’s days are fucking numbered.”

  Grigore was correct. They wouldn’t stop until they found Raúl and called in Kane and Kaleb Tepes so they could finally get their retribution for Kane’s son. It was a long time coming for the twins. But after meeting Gabriela, he fucking hated the idea of using her. She was innocent in all of this, born into a family of reprobates. You couldn’t fault her for her family tree.

  Ryder needed to keep his head on straight where she was concerned, not allow his heart to get tripped up, no matter how good-looking or incredibly sweet she was. If the situation was any different, he might consider getting to know her on a personal level, and not just because he wanted to fuck her.

  * * *

  Gabby stood in the kitchen of Salazar’s, baking up a storm. She had already created a pan of sopapilla cheesecake bars and a tres leches cake to add to the night’s menu before starting the caramel cinnamon apple enchiladas the restaurant was famous for. Her spicy chili chocolate cookies she had baked the other day had gone over quite well. When she was finished with the enchiladas, Gabby planned to make another batch.

  All because she had needed to keep her mind occupied.

  Francisco and his sous chef had a handle on the evening entrees, so Gabby stuck to desserts whenever she entered their domain. She could bake, but she wasn’t much of a cook. Normally, she ran the business side of things, oversaw the schedule, balanced the books, and managed the staff. But on days like today, she baked. Francisco never complained because it left him perfecting the evening’s menu and worrying less about the pastries.

  “What has you worried, señorita?” Francisco approached the long stainless table, wiping his hands on a white-ribbed terrycloth bar towel.

  “Why would you think anything is bothering me?”

  His hand swept the desserts already prepared. “Because you have enough here to feed our patrons three times over and yet you’re making more.”

  “Then we will have enough for tomorrow as well.” Gabriela placed her sugar-coated hands on the table and leaned toward the chef, standing on the opposite side. “You go mind your fish and not my love life.”

  “Ah”—he pointed his index finger toward the ceiling—“so this all has to do with a man.”

  Heat rose up her neck. “I said no such thing.”

  “But you did. I asked what had you bugged. You, señorita, brought up your love life.”

  Gabby hung her head and laughed, before giving her attention back to Francisco. “You caught me there.”

  “Anyone I know?” His face darkened. “Surely not Sergio.”

  “No.” Gabby gasped, a hand covering her heart. “Goodness, I think I’d abstain from sex altogether before I’d ever give in to Sergio. Besides, the truth of the matter is he wants me only because of my uncle. That man desires power, not women.”

  “You certainly have him pegged. You’d do well to stay away from that one.” Francisco picked up a knife and cut a small piece of the tres leches cake and plopped it into his mouth. He moaned. “Delicioso. No one has the touch to make such desserts, señorita, not even me.”

  “You flatter me because I save you work.” Gabby held out a chunk of the cheesecake bars, which he promptly took. “But in all seriousness, I love to do this. It’s therapeutic. I should be thanking you for allowing me to invade your kitchen.”

  Francisco gave her a wink, turned, and left her to her baking. As she reached for a large container of sugar, Gabby’s mind flitted back to the bar. She had been the one to approach Ryder, not the other way around. And yet she still mistrusted him. Her life demanded she be suspicious of anyone entering into it, leaving her lonely more times than not.

  Ryder had made it clear enough he was interested. She hadn’t mistaken the intrigue in his light brown eyes. Nor the flirtation.

  “He won’t stop me from getting what I came here for … you.”

  Could she trust him? He had said the phrase in jest, hadn’t he?

  She wanted to think so. Adriana was correct about Gabriela wanting companionship, someone to cuddle with, to tell about her day. She had been alone for far too long. Bringing someone into her life, though, was always messy. If her uncle found out about Ryder, every aspect of his life would be placed under a microscope. Raúl would no doubt have him followed, see if he was a threat to his business first, his niece second. Gabby couldn’t stand the thought of Ryder being put through what every other man in her life had. Not to mention Sergio, who would likely make Ryder’s life a living hell. If for nothing more than his mean spirit. The man hated to lose.

  Bottom line, if she intended to see Ryder, she’d need to see him off the grid. Getting away from her bodyguards was never an easy feat, but she had done so the night Antonio had stayed put by the SUV. Next time, she might not be so fortunate. If she was going to see Ryder, she would need Adriana’s help.

  Decision made, she quickly dusted off her hands and grabbed her cell, finding Adriana’s number, and clicking on the glass. Gabby placed the phone to her ear and waited for her best friend to answer.

  Three rings and Adriana answered. “Hey, Gabs. What’s up?”

  “Are you free tonight? Or do you and Mateo have plans?”

  “He’s still out of town. What do you need?”

  Gabby drew her lower lip between her teeth, wondering if she was making a huge mistake. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing Ryder again. What if he wasn’t even in the country any longer, had gone back to California? There was no guarantee she’d run into him again if she and Adriana went to the same club, making her instantly regret not getting his number. Finally, a man she could see spending some time with, and she had no idea how to contact him.

  “Gabs?”

  She took a deep breath. “I want to go back to the dance club near your place. Are you free later?”

  “Absolutely. You know me, I hate sitting home alone. Are you at Salazar’s?”

  “Guilty. I’m baking.”

  “Of course, you are. What’s got you bugged?”

  Gabriela chuckled; her friend knew her too well. “I was thinking about—”

  “The Americano,” Adriana finished. “He’s muy guapo. You should have gotten his number.”

  “Tell me about it. I was just thinking the same thing. Hindsight.”

  “I’m game if you are. We can go for drinks, if nothing else. How about I meet you at Salazar’s in an hour and we can have a light supper first? I’m dying for some of Francisco’s crab cakes.”

  “Sounds like a
plan. I could go for some of his crab cakes, too.” Gabby smiled, hoping their night would go as planned. “See you in a bit.”

  She placed her phone on the table. With the knife she had used earlier, she cut off a small chunk of cheesecake and plopped it into her mouth. The cookies would have to wait for another day. For now, she needed to finish the dessert enchiladas, then clean up the mess she’d made. Francisco would do so without complaint, but she’d made it.

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes later, Gabby sat at a tall table near the front window, waiting on Adriana, who was notorious for being late. Taking a sip from her wine glass, she caught a glimpse of the black Escalade in the parking lot. There would be no getting out of Salazar’s unless she was in that vehicle. Her uncle would have her head if she even thought to get in a car that hadn’t been, what she liked to call, “Raúl proofed.” If it wasn’t approved by him, then neither of them left the house in it. He took every precaution at home and while on the road. Hell, most of the time, even his own men had no clue as to his whereabouts. While Luis and Sergio always knew his location, the rest were on a need-to-know basis. Gabby, of course, always knew in case she needed to get a hold of him in an emergency. She was the one person he always made himself accessible for.

  Riding back to Adriana’s apartment in her friend’s small sedan would be out of the question. Gabby would have her driver follow Adriana. Once there, she’d need to convince the driver to stay by the SUV once again. Antonio had been a pushover, always having had a soft spot where she was concerned. But today’s driver? Her gaze went to the bar where he stood talking with some of Raúl’s men. A “yes” man. Convincing him was going to be much trickier.

  Adriana’s brown sedan pulled in front of the restaurant. She opened the door and got out, spotting Gabby in the picture window and waving enthusiastically before heading for the entrance. Thirty seconds later, seated across from her, Adriana grabbed Gabby’s glass of Pinot Noir and took a healthy swallow, draining half the contents.