Shandy had finally had enough, storming into his office with uncharacteristic force and turning off the monitor as he watched the video of Ryder being shot for the thousandth time.
“What are you doing?” he growled, slapping her hand away, drunkenly. His diet had consisted solely of alcohol and he stared at her hatefully with bloodshot eyes.
“Mr. Conway, you are a disgrace,” the housekeeper told him angrily, slamming a silver tray on the desk before him. “You must eat and shower. Have you smelled yourself?”
She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him as if daring him to challenge her.
“How dare you?” he choked, starting to rise but immediately, he fell back into the chair, his legs too weak and his mind too altered to accept the movement.
“Do you see what you’ve become?” Shandy demanded. “You’re a wisp of the formidable man you once were!”
He watched her mouth move but he couldn’t make sense of the words.
Was I ever formidable? I sacrificed my entire family so I could eat dinner at home one night. I gave my boys away and left them to rot without ever knowing what became of them.
Tears filled his strange green eyes and suddenly, he dissolved into tears, burying his face in his hands.
He had wanted so badly to protect them, to save them from Oculus but in the end, he had only succeeded in killing them.
If Ryder is gone, surely the others are too.
He flinched as a set of strong arms embraced him and Drake gasped.
How long had it been since anyone had touched him tenderly? He could not remember what Shirley’s hands had felt like. He had slowly forgotten the sound of her voice, the timbre of her laugh.
The memory of the boys was fading from his mind also.
I have to let them go, he thought, his face soaked. I have spent my life chasing ghosts. I should stop now. Oculus has won. They have broken me as they had intended from the start.
“I don’t know what has you so troubled, sir, but please, don’t fall apart. You are stronger than this. You can overcome whatever it is which has broken your spirit. You are a great man, Mr. Conway.”
Drake shuddered, allowing the last sob to escape his mouth.
I am Drake Conway. I do not resort to histrionics. I have been trained better than this. I must go on, for the boys I lost.
“Thank you, Shandy.”
He quickly wiped his cheeks, keeping his eyes averted.
“I am going to have a shower and I will take some food on the back terrace. I should get out of this room and get some fresh air.”
Shandy withdrew her arms and smiled kindly at him, her chocolate brown eyes hopeful.
“Very good, sir. I will open some windows in here and air it out.”
They both chuckled dryly.
She picked up the tray and Drake followed her from the study. She continued through the hall as he mounted the stairs, heading to the master suite for a shower.
Can I take on Oculus alone? He wondered, running the water in the steam shower as he disrobed the same clothes he had been wearing for days; a pair of grey sweats and an undershirt.
He knew the answer to his inane question.
If that had been an option, he would have done it years ago. He had always clung to the faith that he would be reunited with his sons and that together, they would end the reign of silent terror the group had bestowed upon the world.
I must let it go now. It is too late for all of us.
He scrubbed at his body as if trying to exfoliate the skin from his body. He wanted to start fresh, begin anew and forget the grief and guilt which had plagued him for three decades.
Drake knew it would take a lot to overcome it but the first step was releasing himself from the quest he had started so long ago.
The tears which threatened to fall again were halted in their place and when he emerged from the shower, Drake felt like a new man.
After dressing, he descended the stairs and walked into the back yard, inhaling the sweet air of the night.
Shandy had set up a beautiful place setting with candles and silverware on the patio table. Upbeat jazz music played quietly through the speakers and he sat down to remove the silver lid of his tray.
Veal parmigiana and roasted potatoes.
To his surprise, he was famished and he began to demolish the food with gusto.
“Mr. Conway?”
He turned to Shandy, in embarrassment, his mouth uncomfortably full of food. She reached toward him, his burner cell in her hand.
It was ringing.
His eyes bugged and he chewed, trying to swallow the contents quickly.
“What is it?” he gasped into the phone as Shandy disappeared into the house.
“I know where he is,” The Contact said.
Waves of different emotions washed over Drake.
“Ryder?” he breathed.
“Yes.”
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Galter Pavilion in Chicago.”
The phone went dead and Drake found himself momentarily paralyzed.
His son was alive.
And he had almost given up.
Chapter Nine
Chicago, Illinois
She was unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling of the lowly lit on-call room. Doctors and nurses flittered in and out throughout the evening, teasing her.
“Gee, Paige, the on-call room is for sleeping, not daydreaming. Why don’t you just go home?” One of the night nurses joked. “Trust me, if I wasn’t on shift, you wouldn’t catch me dead in this place. No wait, maybe I would be caught dead in this place.”
Paige laughed.
“I’m waiting on news about a patient,” she lied. Her cell phone was ringing incessantly but every time she looked, it was always Noel, causing a stab of dread to flow through her body. He had sent a barrage of abusive and nasty texts, all which she had ignored, pretending they did not bother her.
Around three a.m., the calls and texts stopped altogether, sending a new wave of concern through her.
She was suddenly worried that he would reappear at the hospital. Paige tried to convince herself that he wouldn’t do anything to her there. There were too many potential witnesses and he didn’t want to ruin his reputation.
No one would ever suspect that Noel was a bad guy. The previous night was the first time he had ever been so violent, leaving damage to her face.
In three years, that was the first time he had lost control of his controlled, sadistic beatings.
Paige knew that was only indication that the worst was yet to come.
What am I going to do? She thought, her pulse erratic. He is escalating. You’re a doctor. You know what this means. It is not going to get better.
She wondered if Ryder could protect her.
Instantly she was humiliated at the immature, childish thought.
Ryder would likely be going home in the next day, never to think of her again.
He'll be gone and whatever connection I think we have will be gone with it. I need to forget about Ryder and focus on reality.
She had already spent too much time committing herself to him. Paige knew that it was an ethical breach, growing so attached to a patient but she was intrigued by him.
Never had she been so drawn to a man and certainly not a stranger.
The lovely doctor had spent most of her evening trying to locate Drake Conway but her calls had gone unanswered. She left voicemails at the various numbers she had found but to no avail.
Even the few email addresses she had located had given her nothing.
Maybe tomorrow during business hours, she thought, flipping onto her side to stare at the door.
She desperately wanted to turn onto the other side but she dared not keep her back unguarded lest Noel come back and catch her unawares.
This is no way to live. I shouldn’t be terrified all the time.
> Slowly, she sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
She suddenly realized that she didn’t want to be alone that night.
If he is going to be gone as quickly as he appeared into my life, I need to make it count.
Leaving the small room, she didn’t care that the door was guarded or that she was breaching her ethics.
It was as if she was being summoned by something otherworldly toward the hidden mezzanine.
Is he really calling out to me or am I clinging to some weird delusion?
It didn’t matter; she knew what she wanted.
She entered the high security level and watched briefly as the guard sat staring at the wall before him. He seemed zoned out as she approached.
Egerstein, Paige remembered as the man jumped, obviously not expecting to see her.
“Good evening,” she said crisply and he nodded, biting on his lower lip.
“Evening,” he mumbled, looking down at the floor. She moved toward the room but he cleared his throat.
“He’s not in there.”
Paige froze.
“What?”
He hung his head in shame and shook his head.
“He’s gone.”
Paige pushed past the guard and used her card to enter the room.
Her eyes raked over the empty room, her heart racing as she threw open the bathroom door.
Slowly, she retreated, her face ashen.
“What the hell happened to him?” she yelled at the guard who seemed to quiver at her tone. “Where the hell is my patient?”
“I don’t know,” Egerstein muttered. “I don’t know what happened. He called for me and when I entered, he just…I just…I don’t know what happened.”
“What the – what do you mean you don’t know what happened?”
Paige was nearly hysterical.
“He needs his antibiotics! He can’t be running around without them!”
“Ma’am, it was like I was powerless to stop him,” Egerstein pleaded. “I couldn’t move. I – I just watched him walk past me and leave.”
Paige recalled how she had tried to look away from Ryder but been unable to shift her head.
She stared at the embarrassed guard and retreated into the room, collapsing onto the bed.
He's gone, she thought, a deep, distressed melancholy overcoming her body. He’s gone and I’ll never get him back.
Paige buried her face in her hands.
She had never felt so alone.
--
There is going to be hell to pay.
It was becoming his mantra over the past two days but Ryder was shocked at how little he cared about the repercussions of what he was doing.
He was not a soldier anymore, not Ryder Quinn, Special Ops Sergeant. A new Ryder had been reborn, whether from the ashes of one presumed to be dead or created in the eyes of a compassionate woman who had captured his soul in the most inexplicable way.
Logic and reasoning seemed to play second fiddle to the insurmountable anger he had developed for a man whom he had never seen except on a social media page.
He had disabled Egerstein, drawing on his rage from seeing Dr. Steward’s face.
Never had Ryder ever considered doing anything so reckless or taking down one of his own men for a personal purpose.
But I’ve never had a reason to do so, he reminded himself, stealing through the shadows of Chicago in the dark.
His destination was only six blocks from the hospital but each step was a chore as he made his way up Huron Street.
He was weaker than he had ever been, disabling Egerstein taking more out of him than he had realized and he paused against a low brick wall to catch his breath.
Maybe I shouldn’t do this today. I should wait until I’m stronger.
He dismissed the thought immediately. Once he returned to the hospital, he was going to be kept under lock and key. He had a very small window of opportunity to make things right for Paige and he was not going to lose it.
Come on, move, he told himself as he approached number twenty-one.
The condo building loomed high against the night sky and Ryder made his way inside. The concierge seemed shocked to see the dishevelled, gaunt stranger in the grand foyer.
“May I help you?” he asked disdainfully, eyeing Ryder’s clothing.
“What apartment does Dr. Steward live in?”
The night watchman’s face curled into a sneer.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he replied, his tone clipped and drawing out the last word. “I am not at liberty to disclose that information.”
Ryder groaned internally, trying to find the anger he needed to subdue the snotty man but his energy was low.
Focus, he told himself. Focus on Paige’s face.
It was all the motivation he needed and Ryder set his surreal irises on him.
Suddenly, the man lost the smug expression on his pudgy face, leaning forward as he gasped for breath.
“Let me ask you again,” Ryder said conversationally. “What suite does Dr. Paige Steward live in?”
The concierge’s hand flew to his throat, clawing viciously as his brown eyes began to bug from their sockets.
“You’re going to die if you don’t tell me,” Ryder assured him. “Write it down.”
Panic filled his bright red face but he had the presence of mind to jot a number down on a piece of paper, sliding it across the counter for Ryder.
“I was never here,” he told the older man as he turned for the elevators.
He heard the doorman fall unconscious as he entered the lift.
He punched in the number sixteen and in seconds, he was standing outside the condo which Dr. Steward shared with her abusive boyfriend.
Without hesitation, he kicked open the door.
A man was waiting in the dark, sitting in a wing chair, facing the door.
“What the fu –?”
“Are you Dr. Noel Vanger?” Ryder asked.
“Who the hell are you?” he yelled, rising. He did not make one step before he found himself paralyzed.
Ryder smiled coldly.
“I am the last person you are ever going to see.”
--
Ryder did not know how he had made it back to the hospital. His body was depleted of all juice and he could barely make it undetected into the secured section of the hospital.
He had taken Egerstein’s special access card when he had left and he was glad he thought to do that. He would not be able to take down anyone else psychically, not that night.
As he made his way to the secluded mezzanine area, he wondered if Riverville was already on his way back from Fort Bragg.
How am I going to explain myself to him? What am I going to tell him?
Ryder was too exhausted to think about it.
He needed to sleep. He would worry about everything else after he had recharged.
Pushing his way through the doors, he braced himself for the earful he was going to get from Egerstein but to his shock, the guard was asleep in his chair.
A spark of fear surged through Ryder and suddenly he wasn’t tired anymore.
He was unarmed and painfully aware of his vulnerability.
“I gave him a sedative.”
Ryder whirled and stared at Dr. Steward who stood at his back.
“Why?” he asked, staring back at her.
“He was going to call your superior.”
A slow smile formed on his lips and she gestured for him to follow her back into the room.
Together, they slipped inside and Ryder turned to her.
“I – “
He did not get to finish his thought.
Her lips were on his, pressing her lithe body against him tightly.
Immediately, he responded, his tongue jutting out to meet hers as his arms encircled her waist. And suddenly it was like an infusion of pure energy filled him. His reserves were lit up and nothing could have stopped him from devouring her. Backward he danced her, coming dow
n on top of her on the bed, his mouth leaving the heaven of her mouth to taste the skin around her neck and shoulders.
Her fingers twined into his dark mane of hair and together, their breathing increased, the undeniable attraction they had for one another taking on tangible proportions.
In seconds, they were naked, although how it had happened, neither one could be sure.
Pinning her to the sheets, his hand encircled her throat, his mouth moving lower across her body. He inhaled the scent of her skin and was consumed with a feeling of raw passion as she moaned softly, his hand parting her thighs to allow him to taste. He nibbled on the soft skin of her inner thigh, while using his thumb to spread her lips. Her soft cries made his head spin, as his body was yelling at him to get inside her. Instead, he took his time, torturing her, coming close to her core, but never doing more than breathing on the little bundle of nerves at the top of her pussy. She was thrusting her hips up towards his mouth, so he used both hands to spread her legs further and pin them to the large bed. Then he went back to torturing her.
“Ryder, please! I need….” Her cries were ramping him up higher. His erection was damn near ready to find her pussy itself.
“You need what, love?” he asked. “This?” And at that moment he thrust his finger deeply inside of her
“Yes!” she screamed. “Yes, don’t stop.” Paige begged. Slowly, he took her clit into his mouth, and lapped in long, smooth strokes, feeling the doctor tense and relax as he explored her honey laden center.
One finger probed her, his tongue teasing her button and she cried out softly, bucking up against him.
Then he bit down gently on her bud, relishing the cry that broke from her lips as her body convulsed around his finger and she released more sweet honey onto his tongue.
His mouth sipped up her juices, his cock begging him to get inside her. He kissed and sucked his way up her body, their faces level as he positioned himself in between her legs.
“Who are you?” she breathed but his only answer was to crush his mouth to hers in a searing kiss that felt like their souls were twining together. He thrust himself into her, impaling her deeply, feeling the quivering of her muscles as he pulled out halfway, then speared even deeper, hitting that elusive spot that made all women scream.
HARD Series Box Set: Bad boys with powers Page 9