Ryker (Hope City Book 5)

by Kris Michaels

  “What’s the likelihood he’ll spring me today?”

  “That’s up to him.”

  Ryker glanced at the guy. “Right. So, based on your past experience with surgeries like mine, and with me saying that I won’t hold you to anything you say or tell anyone what you’ve said, when is he going to cut me loose?”

  The guy chuckled. “Probably tomorrow if all that moving around hasn’t messed with his stitch work. He gets peeved when patients don’t listen to directions.”

  Ryker frowned. “Nobody told me I couldn’t get dressed.”

  The man turned and stared at him. Ryker caught a good visual of his name tag. Carl. “Did you ask?”

  He chuckled. “Nah, I’m more of an ‘ask for forgiveness rather than permission’ type of guy.” He wasn’t really, but Carl didn’t need to know that.

  “Right. Make that the day after tomorrow. I’m going to go raid a supply cart, grab a couple safety pins, and come back. If the doc sees that, he might not let you go home until next week.” The man laughed hysterically at his own joke and left.

  “I would never have guessed you were a comedian.” Ryker popped his eyes open. Xander and Killian stood just outside his door. His body tensed. The last time he’d talked to Xander was almost four months ago. That conversation had lasted twenty seconds. “May we come in?”

  He nodded and watched as his half-brothers shuffled into the room. Xander was, as usual, dressed in a three-piece suit. Killian wore work clothes, although the last time he’d heard, Killian’s construction company was the largest in the tri-state area. He should be in a suit. All the Ganas brothers were successful.

  “We stopped by last night.”

  Ryker cocked his head. “Why?” It wasn’t like they were close.

  “To make sure you were okay. Dad called me to let me know you were here.”

  “Really? Hoping I was dead or dying, no doubt.” The bitterness dripped from his low words.

  Xander shook his head. “The old man knows he was wrong. He just can’t bring himself to apologize. He’s old-country proud.” The Greek heritage was strong in the Ganas family.

  Ryker snorted. “The man accused me of being responsible for Mom’s death.” He’d screamed that message at the top of his lungs when Ryker tried to see his mother at the hospital morgue. They buried her on the estate. No one notified him of the service. No one—including his half-brothers.

  Killian drew a sharp breath. “We never thought that.”

  “You never said otherwise.” Ryker flung the words back at his brother. “And thanks for letting me know when you buried her.”

  “He said he told you. Afterward, he ranted about how you didn’t care enough to show up. Hell, we were all mourning. Numb. But when two and two didn’t add up, we reached out to you.” Xander slipped his hands into his pockets as he spoke.

  “Yeah, nice to know it took a year for you to realize I wasn’t responsible for her accident,” Ryker fired back.

  He’d lost his mom. She was driving into the city to have lunch with him when an accident in front of her on the interstate caused her to swerve. She hit the retaining wall, and the car flipped into oncoming traffic. Thankfully, no one else suffered, but his mother’s neck broke on impact. According to the highway patrol unit first on scene, she was dead when he arrived. But Benjamin, his stepfather, had fixated on the fact that she wouldn’t have died if she hadn’t been going to meet him. Her death became his fault because Benjamin had to have someone to blame and he was the easy target. Always the easy target.

  Good ole Ben hated him. The man overlooked the fact his mother had a child out of wedlock, but that Ryker had the audacity to continue his relationship with his mother after Benjamin had asked him to leave the family estate when he was eighteen was unacceptable. Benjamin did everything he could to hinder Ryker from having anything to do with his brothers or his mother. At ten, Xander was the oldest when Ryker left. Killian was eight. He’d visit on the occasional holiday—when his mother’s pleading had become too much for his stepfather—but Benjamin had never made him feel welcome, even though the vicious man loved his mom with a singular devotion.

  “It took us a year to find you. I hired a private investigator.” Xander shrugged. “We didn’t know you’d changed your last name from Ganas.”

  Ryker smiled tightly. “Your father requested it. He told me he didn’t want me to pollute the waters for his sons.” The bastard had the audacity to offer to pay him off. As if. He took his mother’s maiden name, the name he had before Ben adopted him. Another concession for his mother that Benjamin Ganas told him he regretted.

  “Christ.” Killian groaned and dropped into the chair Ryker’d just vacated. “He’s a piece of work, isn’t he?”

  “I can think of other modifiers,” Xander agreed. “Ryker, I’m not trying to make amends for him. Lord knows I can’t. However, we’d like to get to know you again. When we were younger, you were our hero.” Xander smiled. “You taught me to stand up for myself.”

  “And you helped build that birdhouse. You ignited my passion for building.” Killian added. “And it was you that taught Dimitri to ride that damn mini-bike. He credits you for getting him into motocross.”

  “Another strike against me, according to Benjamin, no doubt,” Ryker chuffed in response. Dimitri had been a champion motocross rider and catapulted that experience into launching a new federation of racing that was taking root worldwide.

  “You were always there for us. Until he made you leave,” Xander confirmed. “Mom tried to hide how sad she was when you left. But we could tell.”

  His nerves throbbed, exposed, bloody and raw. He’d shoved all the heart-wrenching emotions about his mother’s death away, forcing them behind doors he’d never let his mind open again. The sudden appearance of his half-brothers and their admissions threatened to unlock those barriers.

  “Why are you here?” He let his gaze travel first to Xander and then to Killian.

  “Because I want to get to know my big brother again.” Xander’s voice was deep with emotion.

  “I want that, too.” Killian stood and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “And to tell you if you ever need anything not to go to cousin Andreas,” Killian chuckled. “He was really butthurt the house he was flipping had bullet holes in it.”

  A surprised bark of laughter shot from Ryker. “Well, let me tell you, that wasn’t something we expected.” He winced and leaned a bit to ease his shoulder.

  “I hear from your girlfriend that you’re a highly decorated officer.” Xander smiled at him. “I’m not surprised. I always knew you’d be amazing at whatever you set your mind to do.”

  Ryker grunted. “I’m just a cop.”

  “A captain in charge of a highly-decorated, multi-jurisdictional drug enforcement team. I did a little research after Brianna told us about your commendations.” Xander glanced at his watch. “And I need to go, I have a new client coming into town today.” He placed his hand on Ryker’s foot. “I mean it, Ry. We need you in our lives.”

  He nodded, the emotion tightening his throat, preventing any comment. Killian stood and moved beside Xander. “I’ll go now, too. But I’ll be back. Can I bring you lunch? Maybe a gyro from Aunt Tallie’s?”

  Ryker smiled at that. Aunt Tallie’s was on the other side of the city. It had been Killian’s favorite when he was little. The food would be a wet mess before Killian could get it here. “Nah, I’m good.”

  He watched his brothers leave and closed his eyes. Not because they were leaking. No. He was just tired.

  “All right. I have the scissors and the safety pins. And just in time, the doctor is next door.” Carl, his nurse, buzzed in and grabbed the hem of his shirt. The razor-sharp scissors made quick work of the cotton from hem to armpit and the fabric opened. Carl dropped the scissors into his pocket and quickly attached two safety pins to the fabric under his sling-hobbled arm. “Next time, ask for help.” Carl checked his watch. “You’re due your meds soon. How’s the p
ain?”

  “Manageable if I don’t move too much.” Actually, he didn’t hurt as much as he’d expected. It was the weakness after the surgery that was kicking his ass.

  “That’s good. Oh, here’s the doctor.” Carl turned and gave him a wide-eyed stare. The ‘I saved your ass’ look made him chuckle.

  He dealt with the doctor’s poking and prodding, took a pain pill, and dozed for a while. A knock brought him from a light sleep. Ryker sized up the big man. Broad shoulders, heavy muscles, and a short haircut. He didn’t know this guy and, given the fact the man was wearing the duty uniform for Hope City Fire Department, the man probably had the wrong room. “Can I help you?”

  “Yeah... no. I think I can help you, though.” The guy crossed his arms. The shoulders and biceps on the guy were thick with corded muscle, but he didn’t seem menacing, although the fixed stare could burn a hole through him.

  Ryker arched an eyebrow. It was about as much energy as he had right now. “Exactly how do you plan on that? Am I on fire?”

  The guy shook his head and then laughed. “Dude, I’m sorry. My name is Blay. I’m Brie’s younger brother. Mom and Dad called last night. I understand you need a place to stay.”

  Ah, the eyes, yes, he could see the resemblance there, but unlike Brie and Brody, Blay’s coloring was lighter and his facial features were stronger or perhaps more squared off. His mind caught up with the conversation. “Wait. They called you about me? Is that why you’re here?”

  “Nah, I’m here because one of our guys got his ankle tweaked when he fell through some floorboards at a house fire this morning. The rest of the team is two floors down.” He adjusted the radio on his hip. “I can’t be gone long, but I wanted to pop up and tell you I may have a solution for you.”

  “I didn’t ask for help, but thank you.” He was going to look for a place to stay today because Carl was right, the doc was making him stay one more night. He had time to figure something out.

  Blay tipped his head back and laughed, his arms wrapped around his stomach. “Oh, man, you are so screwed. Mom already has your life arranged for the foreseeable future.”

  Ryker narrowed his eyes. “How?”

  “Well, see, I’ve been renovating an apartment. I was going to move in next weekend. I’ve been couch surfing with Rory while I put the finishing touches on the place. She suggested that I offer you the apartment until they catch whoever has it out for you.”

  “You don’t need to do that. I’m sure I can find a place.”

  The guy sobered quickly. “Dude, have you met my mom? It’s either my apartment or their house. You want to use my apartment. Trust me.”

  “Yeah, again, I appreciate the offer, but your mom doesn’t run my life.” He was forty-six, damn near forty-seven years old. He could find his own place to stay.

  The guy laughed again walking back to the door, HCFD sprawled in print across the back of his shirt. He stopped, shaking his head as he turned. “You have so much to learn.” He braced his arm against the door jamb. “Got to tell you, I thought you’d be younger.”

  Ryker flew his middle finger at the guy, which earned him another laugh. “Oh, dude, I’m not criticizing. If you have the energy and the drive to keep up with Brie, you’re okay in my book. Now Brock, he may be just a bit more miffed. You made him do math, man.”

  Ryker rubbed his face. What the hell was this guy talking about? Fuck, no more pain pills. He was having problems keeping up with this conversation. “Excuse me?”

  He laughed again and shook his head. “You realize they figured out how old you’ll be when you and Brie have kids, right?”

  “Kids?” His voice strangled a bit. Kids? Who said anything about kids? Did he want kids? Well, yeah. Maybe. Probably.

  “Yep. Anyway, the offer is there to use the apartment. It is a keyed entry building, oh, and your sergeant owns it. Cozy, that’s what it would be. Mighty cozy, especially if Brie is going to stay with you.”

  “Yeah, thanks but no thanks.”

  “Think about it. It is better than the alternative. Besides, Rory is going to let me hang with him at his place. Actually, I’m teaching him how to lay flooring so I’m not wearing out my welcome.”

  That was the second time Brie’s brother mentioned that name. Was that a relative, a brother she hadn’t mentioned? “Rory?”

  “McBride. Our next-door neighbors. Brie told you about the McBrides, right? Colm is retired CIA and Sean’s a homicide detective. Tara McBride is married to Carter Fiske, he’s a narcotics detective, then there’s Kyle, also narcotics, but you should know those guys, seeing how you’re the JDET Commander. Rory and I are the odd ones out. Rory is a paramedic and I’m HCFD, but hey, every family needs a non-conformist.” He leaned his shoulder on the door jamb. “But seriously. You and Brie, that’s cool, but don’t make the mistake of thinking we won’t hunt you down if you hurt our sister.” The man winked at him and left.

  Ryker dropped his head back onto the pillow. “Holy shit.”

  Chapter 11

  Brie parked behind her restaurant with the phone wedged between her shoulder and her ear. “Mom, thanks again, but no, we aren’t staying at the house with you and Dad. Ryker and I are looking for somewhere to stay today. I need to stop and make sure everyone is set at the restaurant before I head to the hospital.”

  “Have you talked to Blay? He will let Ryker take his apartment in Brody’s building until all this blows over.” Hannah King tsked and kept talking, “Rory needs help with his floors anyway.”

  She cut off the engine and leaned back in her seat. “That may work, but I’m going to ask Ryker before I agree to anything.”

  “It’s the perfect solution. It is a keyed entry, and there are two cops above him. He has instant backup. That was Dad’s input, although I suggested keeping Gage here for the duration of Ryker’s stay. Your dad thought it was a great idea.”

  Brie closed her eyes. “Thank you for the option, we’ll discuss it.” She knew her mother would try to convince her if she didn’t give in and at least accept the possibility.

  “Absolutely. Now, I have to run. Gage has a half-day today. I’m picking him up so Dawn doesn’t have to take a half-day off work.” Amber’s stepsister and her mother had coordinated a schedule to pick up Gage after school. “Then we are going to Sharon’s to bake with her and Colleen.”

  “Bake? Does Gage like to do that?”

  “No, but he likes to eat the finished product, and he’s good with Colleen. She idolizes him.”

  She glanced at her watch. The kitchen staff would be knee-deep in lunch prep. She had to make sure Roger had everything he needed. With the screw up in deliveries, he’d need the credit card from the safe and access to pending orders, which were on her computer. “He’s a great kid, they both are. Listen, I’ve got to go, Mom. I love you, and I’ll talk to Ryker.”

  “All right, honey. I’ll talk to you tonight. Love you.”

  “I love you too, Mom.” She hung up and dropped her cell into her purse. She’d taken the gun last night and placed it in her glove box, locking it in the vehicle while she was at the hospital. She glanced at the glove box and scrunched her nose. It was broad daylight. Those jerks were nowhere around. She cast a glance up and down the alley just to make sure. That camera system was still in her office. Damn it. Another thing she needed to add to the list of things to ask Roger to do. He needed a pay raise or at least a bonus for stepping up while she was with Ryker.

  She jumped from her old SUV and locked it as the back door opened and Shane, the dishwasher, exited with two bags of garbage. “Hey, Boss. Your man okay?”

  “He’s going to be, thank goodness. Here, let me help you.” She reached for one bag.

  “Nah, I got this. Roger said you’d probably be taking a couple days off. Don’t you worry about nothing, Brie, we’ll all chip in and take care of everything. God knows you take care of us well enough.” He propped the door open with his heel.

  “Thank you, and if the city doesn�
�t empty that dumpster tomorrow, you may have to call them. The new guy driving the route has forgotten us twice.”

  “No worries. I’ll keep an eye open.” Shane let the door close behind her.

  “Brie! How’s Sexy Voice?” Roger shouted the question from across the kitchen, stilling every hand.

  “He’ll be okay.” A collective sigh and hurried words preceded the rush to finish lunch prep. She nodded to Roger, who immediately started wiping his hands. They met at her office door and he opened it with her keys.

  She flicked on the light and held her hand out for her keys. He dropped them into her palm. “I’m going to take some time off. There are a lot of unanswered questions about what happened last night.”

  “You take whatever time you need. We’ll be fine. You’ve trained these guys, and more than that, they respect you. We’ll make a go of it.”

  “Thank you. I needed to hear that.” She rubbed her neck. “You’ll need some information and access. Do you have time?”

  “Sure. The prep is complete, and I’ve already seasoned the pork tenderloins for tonight’s special.”

  "Okay, well, on top of running the show, could you somehow manage to put that up above the back door?”

  “What is it?”

  “A camera system. Just hook it up to this computer system for now. I’ll try to figure out the cloud stuff when I get back.”

  “You got it. What about passwords and such?”

  Brie nodded to the chair. “Have a seat and grab a piece of paper. I need to be at the hospital by noon. Oh, can we get two specials to go?”

  Roger made to stand and then hesitated. “He can eat non-hospital food?”

  “It was his shoulder they shot, so probably. He told me to bring him lunch, so I’m going to do that.” Her shoulders rode up to her ears when Roger bellowed the instructions from her doorway.

  He sat down, crossed his legs, and picked up a pen before he tugged a piece of bond paper from the printer. “Okay, hit me with all the deets.”