Page 14 of Comforted By The Mountain Man (Eden Ridge: Hunter Brothers #1)

We spend the next hour with West and Holden, searching all through town, asking people questions, and showing them pictures I luckily have taken on my new phone. No one has seen him. It’s like he just vanished into thin air.

We eventually have no other choice but to drive back to Asher’s and regroup. The less information we find on Ryder’s disappearance, the more I’m believing there’s only one explanation.

How could I have been so stupid? I ignored the feeling I had weeks ago of someone watching me. I knew what I felt. Then Asher and I fell into our bubble and I forgot. Like an idiot, I fucking forgot. And now, my son is in danger and it’s my fault.

I kick a dining room chair, hyperventilating as anger blinds me.

“Whoa, whoa,” Asher calls, running to me. “Sierra,” he tries reaching out but I back up, bumping into the couch.

“No,” I shake my head. “This is my fault. I knew they were watching. I knew they wouldn’t leave us alone. I’m so stupid. I let myself fall for this false reality,” I wave my hand between us. “I should’ve been vigilant. I never should have let him out of my sight.”

Asher rushes to hold me. Like a wounded animal, I fight against his hold, crying.

“Listen to me. Listen to me, Brown Eyes,” he firmly whispers against my forehead.

“You are not stupid,” he reprimands lovingly.

“Being happy is not wrong. Ryder, living in that bubble, as you call it, has given him peace, laughter. And I promise you.” He pulls back when the fight leaves my body and I just melt into him, sobbing.

He brings his face close to mine. “If they took our boy, I will raise hell, bring him home, and make them pay.”

“You don’t understand how bad these men are,” I whisper, my tears staining his shirt.

“Who are they?” Grayson steps up, asking.

Forgetting we have an audience, I pull myself together, wiping my face. Asher keeps me close as I confess. I have to. Ryder’s life depends on it.

“Ryder’s biological father is—was—part of an MC in Southern California. He was stealing. Then he died. Someone called me, telling me to get out. Oscar left instructions and a deed for the cabin at the Fletchers’ old place.”

Cliffnotes, but enough for them to understand.

“I didn’t think they’d know how to find us,” I whisper.

All the Hunter men surround us in the living room. Even Grace is here, pacing the kitchen. She opens drawers looking for something, then pauses.

“Sierra?” she asks, lifting a piece of my old phone. “Is this the old phone we talked about?”

“Oh god,” I cry, remembering.

Running into the kitchen, she hands me the phone she has already put back together with the battery. I take it and power it up.

The men are speaking in hushed tones. Serious. No nonsense. Asher’s strained eyes watch me as I hear countless notifications chime to life. Missed calls, voicemails, and texts.

I hit play on one of the last voicemails from yesterday.

“Alright, puta. We gave you a chance. Did you really think we wouldn’t trace Oscar’s last dealings and find you? You were always dense. Only good for one thing. But Oscar was too much of a pussy to force you to do your duty.” I tremble, recognizing Sulfer’s slimy voice.

“No matter how this ends, I’m ripping that cunt open until you bleed,” he chuckles before hanging up.

My hand drops the phone. West rushes to catch it as Asher pulls my head into his chest. His body radiates fury. Fear shatters any control I have on mine. I can’t stop shaking. My teeth chatter, picturing what they’re doing to my baby boy.

I hear multiple questions peppered by the brothers.

“Where do you think they are?”

“Do you remember how to get to their clubhouse?”

“Do you know what they want?”

I can’t speak.

Nash, who now has the old phone, informs us of what they want. “You know information about Oscar’s last supplier, he used club money to pay. They want the contact.”

“Why do they think you know that?” Ezra asks.

“Oscar used her to do the numbers and mask his dealings,” Asher answers for me and his tone is clear that no one has a right to question or judge me.

The men share looks, have silent conversations, then nod, determined.

“We’re closer than we were this afternoon. We know who has him,” Grayson says. “We just have to find where they’re holding him.”

I gasp.

Finally able to formulate words, I look up at Asher. “Did Ryder leave Hulk here? Do you remember him taking it with us?”

He thinks, searching his memory. We both conclude he had the plushy but I ask everyone to search the house just to be sure.

I race back downstairs. “I don’t see it anywhere.”

“I’m sure he took it with him,” Asher says, following me to the living room where all the brothers return.

“Why are we looking for his toy?” West asks.

“I forgot,” I pull out my new smartphone, log into the site I thankfully remember the password for.

“When Oscar started taking Ryder with him until late at night, I got paranoid. One of the girls at the club mentioned using these baggage air tags to track her then-cheating boyfriend.” The login works and the site loads.

“She had an extra one. I stole it. I sewed it into Ryder’s plush toy. ”

Tears spill as I see the dot on a map. I face Asher, holding up the phone. “I feared one day, Oscar wouldn’t come back with my son. I knew Ryder kept his Hulk with him, always.”

Asher takes the phone, focusing. His eyes dart around his brothers. “He’s twenty-five minutes south of here.”

Relief fills the room. I almost collapse with hope. Grace rushes and takes me in her arms. Hugging her back, the men move like a military unit. I watch as they make plans, talk about weapons, and how many cars they’re taking.

The plan becomes, I answer the MC, leading them to believe I’ll give them what they want but only if I confirm Ryder’s alright and how I can get him back. I’m the distraction. They don’t know and won’t see the Hunter brothers coming.

As the men charge out of Asher’s, they each look me in the eye, promising to bring him back safe. Asher grabs what he needs, then pulls me to the door. He holds my face and rests his forehead against mine.

“I love you, Sierra Martinez.”

The air in my chest stutters. My wide eyes, red with tears, well up for an entirely different reason.

“I’m bringing our boy home. Then, when we’ve settled, healing our guy with love and good memories again, you can say it back.” The smallest grin tips his lips before he kisses me.

I take his shirt in my hands and hold it tight. I kiss him, infusing every emotion spiraling through my mind and heart.

He backs up, kisses my forehead, then leaves. A man focused.

The Hunter brothers enter their vehicles. Each fierce, determined. A force. Suddenly, watching these seven men go to war for me and my son, a steadiness settles in my soul.

Somehow, I know without a shadow of a doubt. My son is returning home.