Point of Redemption(9)

By: Stacey Lynn


“The client’s in a hurry and Hammer’s on a run.” I rolled my eyes. Of course he was. The president of Black Death was almost always on a run of some sort.

“Fine,” I said as I rolled my eyes.

Mills grinned. A full set of yellowed teeth appeared. By the way the light bounced off of them, they looked rotten. Like his soul.

I spun around, needing to get away from Mills, and I was in such a hurry that I quit paying attention to the people in the room until I met another Black Death Member, Slick, standing with his back to me. His leather cut stretched across his back and I knew his arms were crossed over his chest. His feet were firmly planted as he refused to let our visitor walk around him.

And when I finally saw him, I wished Slick would have kicked the man out the door, directly onto his ass.

Ryker. Fiancé.

The vomit taste was back in my throat as I skipped over his face, my brain not allowing me to focus on the man I had wished for years would come back and save me.

Stupid idiot, I scolded myself. He wasn’t that anymore. He had taken off and left me alone to deal with the fallout of my dad turning on his own motorcycle club. The only opportunity to keep my mom alive was aligning with Death. Literally.

My eyes dropped to the floor and I saw his boots. I saw the jeans that fit him perfectly. I saw the wrinkly black t-shirt that stretched across his chest and biceps. I saw the black duffel bag in one hand, and his other hand rolling into a fist and releasing.

“Faith?” I couldn’t keep from looking at him when he said my name. I looked up and saw him blink several times, as if he thought I was an apparition.

His jaw dropped in shock.

I wanted to reach out and slap the shit out of him while at the same time throw myself into his arms and beg him to save me, to take me away from my hell. But it was too late. The Faith he knew was gone forever.

“You work here?”

I cocked my head to the side, trying to understand how he didn’t already know this. Had Daemon never told him what I had become? That thought was followed quickly by what in the hell was Ryker doing here?

The question was answered as it slipped through my mind. Olivia had been shot. Daemon probably called him. Black Death had put me on lockdown since I could be connected to her. It was the one freedom they’d given me weeks ago—allowing me to reconnect with my old friend.

Now, they wouldn’t let me visit her in the hospital or talk to her. Everywhere I went was accompanied by two Black Death members tracking my every move.

I blinked quickly several times as I remembered the night Ryker had promised to fix everything. And then instead of doing that, he had left me; he’d left my life a thousand times more screwed up than it already had been.

I was here, and it was his fault.

My lips curved into a smile. My back straightened. I would not fall back into his trap. He wouldn’t be here long, anyway. I knew he wouldn’t. There was no way in hell Ryker was sticking around town.

“I’m the best they have.” I watched him wince with a sick smile of satisfaction ghosting across my lips. “And you need to leave. Nordic Lords aren’t welcome here anymore.”

“I’m not a part of Nordic Lords.” I watched his hand curl into a fist again. His shoulders were tense and his eyes scanned the room like he was prepared to take out every man in the place. He looked like he wanted to throw me over his shoulder, haul my ass out of there, take me back to his rig off the coast of New Orleans, where I’d heard he was working and living, and never let me leave. My stomach flip-flopped at the thought.

Crap.

I leveled my eyes at him, hoping my expression was close to ambivalence in order to mask the pain searing through me.

“I’m not a part of Nordic Lords,” he repeated more firmly.

I shrugged. Close enough. I was about to tell him that when a warm hand came out and clasped me at the back of my neck. I moved closer to Slick, as if I enjoyed him touching me.

One side of Ryker’s lips twitched as he glared at the man pretending to be my guard. In a sense, I supposed he was, considering they owned my ass.

“You need go to. Like Diamond said, we don’t have a room for you.” Slick stressed the “we”, but we weren’t and never would be a “we”. I didn’t bother to correct him. The less Ryker knew of me, the better.