Page 13

13: Ryder

“I'm sorry, you have to do what now?” Tori snaps, her brow arched and her hand placed firmly on her hip. I feel like I'm being scolded by my mother, and it's not something I like.

“KitKat, are you jealous?” I tease her, brushing her hair behind her ear as I lean closer to her face, a breath away.

“Of you having to pretend you’re dating that Bratz doll who likes to throw herself at you?” There’s that witty humor of hers I love so much. “I'm not jealous. I'm pissed.”

“Ooo, talk dirty to me, baby.” I laugh, faintly grazing my mouth against her neck. I can feel her pulse beneath my lips, calling on me to suck and leave a mark.

“Ryder, I'm serious!” She pushes at my shoulders, and I oblige, backing away with a groan of annoyance.

“It wasn't my idea, and I'm just as thrilled about it as you are,” I admit, staring right into her fiery eyes. She's so fucking hot when she's mad. “I promise, you have nothing to worry about. Lila can't hold a candle next to you. You're a whole damn bonfire. You'd eat her alive.”

“She better fucking know it. You better warn her to watch herself, Ryder, or I swear…” she doesn't finish. She doesn't need to finish; it's obvious by the way her body is shaking. Given the chance, she’d kill Lila if she tried anything.

“I'll make sure to mention how ferocious my kitty cat is. ”

“It's bad enough you call me KitKat, don't start calling me kitty cat.” Her finger points at me, her eyes so serious I can't help the smirk that crosses my lips.

“Yes, ma'am!” I salute her, noting the way her shoulders drop a fraction of an inch. “It's just for one quick meeting. I won't let her lay it on too thick.”

“You better not.” She sighs, leaning against the counter as she sips the coffee she made us all this morning.

Her coffee is always the best.

“You really should talk to your dad about these girls. Then again, he probably wouldn't get rid of them.” I shrug, reaching out toward her, resting my hands on her hips and pulling her toward me—coffee cup and all. “He's up to something. And I don't like it.”

“Neither do I.” Her brows pinch in such a way, it's clear she's stressed. “I'll be at his estate today before he sends me to some random place, I'll see what I can find out.”

“Be careful,” I warn, gripping her hips tight, like she could fade from existence before the day even begins. “He may be your father, but he's still a man we need to be wary of. A man who won't take kindly to you snooping.”

Her eyes meet mine, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I love how you worry about me. But really, I got this.”

“I know you do, Kitkitty.”

She slaps my arm, half playful, half serious. “No. Bad boy,” she scolds me, like a dog, so I pretend to whimper. “I swear. You're too much sometimes.”

I know she's kidding. I can see it in her eyes, in the way her mouth tries not to curve. She loves the stupid shit I do or say.

I live to see her smile, to hear her laugh.

I live to annoy her, frustrate her, and then cool her off.

I live to be the fuel that ignites the fire inside her, to show her how she can bend but never break .

“You love me all the same,” I say, before laying a kiss on the top of her head.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Thought so.” I pull back, memorizing her face this morning. No makeup, messy bun, pj's, and still so fucking beautiful. “Ugh. I better go. Go cuddle next to Thorne and go back to sleep like I know you want to.”

Blaze was the first out this morning, leaving just as Thorne came in. Tori was up, wanting to show Blaze her love by making him coffee the way he likes. She stayed awake for my sake, but I know she's tired.

“I do love sleep.” She nods, placing her cup on the counter. “But first…”

She grabs me by the back of the neck and pulls me toward her so fast and so hard we almost collide. Her lips land on mine, hungry, needy, passionate. She's kissing me with absolutely everything she's got, and it's so damn much.

My fingers dig into her skin through her pants, holding her hips so firm they may bruise. She doesn't break away, doesn't pull back, snaking her fingers in my hair and pulling lightly. My teeth graze against her lip, nibbling it the way I love, sliding my hands to her ass and squeezing tight.

She moans and I about lose my shit. But then she pulls back, sucking my very soul right out of my body. Her lips look more fuckable than before, puffy and red. Those sweet brown eyes of hers are hungry, and my little Stanley is ready to burst from my pants like a magnet pulled toward her.

“Remember this moment any time Lila gets too close, and if you're good, I'll let you tie me up today.”

Oh shit. Oh fuck. My imaginary tail is wagging a mile a minute right now .

“Are you sure?” I ask, because I know she's still working through what Nico did to her. I need to make sure she's really ready—even though I would love nothing more than to tie her up and fuck her hard.

She nods, her eyes locked on me, wide and full of love, trust.

Yes! Motherfucking yes!

“You know just how to keep me in line, don't you KitKat?” I graze my knuckles against her cheek, leaning down and kissing her tenderly for a moment. “I promise I'll be a good boy. And when I get home, I'll be claiming my prize.”

“I'll be waiting. Now go. I'm going to bed for another hour before Gabe forces me up.” She rolls her eyes, but I catch the way she doesn't actually mind. It's obvious she's getting closer to Gabe, and it's freaking us all out.

I told her I wouldn't share outside of Thorne and Blaze, and I meant those words. Gabe would be a very dead man.

“Sleep good.”

I race out, taking my bike for once, because this time Lila didn't come to collect me. We're meeting at Juan's place, and I can't wait to see that broody motherfucker.

It's been too long since I've been on my bike, and it's a long enough drive that I actually get to enjoy it. Between this, Tori's kiss, and her promise, my morning is the best one yet. If anyone brings me down from this high, well, I might just kill them.

Too soon, I'm pulling into a long winding driveway, finding a theme with all these estates—they like to see who's coming. When I pull up to the front of the pastel yellow house— can I call it a house? —Lila is waiting by the door for me. She's wearing a small, white sundress with thin straps and a sweetheart neckline. Her blonde hair is curled around her shoulders, and the way she's smiling at me is giving me the creeps.

She's going to push against my boundaries again today .

Someone save me.

I want my reward, dammit!

I sigh, kicking my stand out and slipping my helmet off. She's skipping toward me as I dismount my bike. My eyes roll at the show and I don't exactly hide it.

“Your acting skills still need improving, I see.” She tries to tease as she plays innocent, holding her hands behind her back as she sways on the balls of her feet.

“I can act just fine, but there's no one to act for out here, Lila,” I retort, heading inside before her.

She pouts, like dramatically pouts, lower lip out and all before she turns on her heel and follows close behind. As I enter, I catch sight of the big guy waiting on us, and Lila suddenly gets serious.

“I see you got to keep your leg,” I start, feeling too comfortable given I helped save his ass. “That's probably for the best. A peg leg would make you even less approachable.”

Juan's face is all serious, not even a little tug of a smile. “I see you haven't changed.” He crosses his arms, like he's disappointed about this.

Way to bring the mood down, Juan.

“Why fix what isn't broken?” I shrug, ignoring Lila completely as she steps closer. Juan notices, his eyes suddenly fixed on her before returning to mine.

“Follow me and I'll give you the details of today's assignment and all the things you'll need,” he orders, leading the way before he's even finished his sentence. “You'll be assuming fake identities for this. We figured having you act as a couple would make you less conspicuous. Diablo felt this assignment would be best for the two of you, given how well you did at sealing deals with our investors.”

“Oh that?” I wave it off, “Light work.”

He nods, but it's clear he doesn't believe it, or at least doesn't want to admit I am competent enough to have done it. “You'll be heading to a high-end club to try and find a supplier we think may be involved with our crate discrepancies. Your job is to snuff him out, corner him, get him to talk, and not get caught.”

“Okay. What's the dress code? How much do I need to be rolling in with? And how do I spot the supplier? Got a picture?” I ask, finally matching my stride with his as we make it to what I'm assuming is his office.

“I have all that right here.” He steps inside and throws a file down on the table, sliding it toward me.

I flip it open and am surprised at what I find.

Seriously?

“Wrong file, man,” I point out as I close it and slide it back.

It seems Juan is on our side.

The file he first handed me was meant as a warning. I know it, seeing as the first pictures I saw were of Thorne, Blaze, or me. There's more in there, but I can't fan through it with Lila over my shoulder. A quick glance is all I could get without alerting her.

Warning served.

Thank you, Juan.

It looks like Diablo has been collecting information on us for a little while now.

“My mistake.” He takes the file back, fishing through his drawer until he pulls out the real one. “This one should be it. I'm not much of a file guy. I guess I better start labeling them.”

“Organization definitely helps make things run smoother,” Lila chimes in, thinking she's being helpful, but all she is is annoying.

“I'll keep that in mind.” Juan tries for a polite tone but it falls flat, annoyance so thick I could choke on it.

I have to hold back my laughter as he opens the folder to show pictures of our intended target. He's average on all accounts. Average height, brown hair cut in the latest style. The guy wears jeans and simple shirts. There is nothing remarkable about him, just another man in the background, and that's what makes him so good.

Being invisible in plain sight is a gift I was not given. Not with these baby blues, handsome-as-fuck face, and golden strands girls love to run their fingers through. I've learned how to make it work for me, how to turn it into an advantage in this world, but sometimes I wonder how much easier things would be if I could slip in and out of places unseen.

“And you’re sure he'll be at this club?” I question, working through all the information as I hand Lila a picture of the guy.

This file contains not only pictures of the guy, but information on his usual spots and time of day. It would appear our supplier likes to have routines. Coffee at a local shop, a scone and an americano for breakfast. A walk through the park after, a couple of meetings, some work, lunch at the plaza where he adds spontaneity to his day by choosing a different food truck each day.

There's so much here, I'm surprised they need us for anything. But I guess the important stuff is missing. Who is he meeting with? Who's paying him to smuggle their things in with Diablo?

As I continue to dig through the file, I find the blueprint for the club. There’s a list of workers alongside pictures and schedules, not to mention their daily tasks so you can know where all workers are meant to be and when.

If this were a test, this file is an easy cheat sheet, and I don't plan on letting it go to waste.

“How much time do we have before we need to be there?” I ask, needing to know exactly how long I have to memorize this golden nugget.

“You have until five this evening. He'll be there for dinner. Don't let the chance go to waste,” Juan answers casually, but I can hear the caution in his tone.

Diablo wants you to fail, watch yourself .

“No problem.” I nod, grabbing everything and moving to the couch in his office. “I'm making myself at home, Juanie, hope you don't mind.”

Juan grumbles something incomprehensible under his breath as he rolls his eyes, but he doesn't tell me to fuck off, so I take it as a good sign. The next few hours are spent memorizing everything here, reading up on our fake identities for the night, and deciding on our relationship story. Don't want to fumble if some old coon decides to call us a cute couple and ask personal questions.

I've learned they really like to do that. Maybe because they're so bored with life at that point.

By three, Lila leaves, claiming she needs well over an hour to get ready. I let her go, not wanting her near me anyway.

You won't get a fight out of me.

At about four-twenty, I decide I should get ready. I find the white tux, black shirt, and red tie waiting for me in a room. It fits like a damn glove, hugging my muscles just right. Not too obvious, but enough to intimidate if I flex. The shoes are a glossy, polished black that only the most expensive of dress shoes can achieve.

I find the hair wax I like to use, rubbing it in my hands before I slick my hair back. Never flat against my head, my hair is too thick for that shit anyway. It's up and out of my face, with the longer pieces falling over the back of my head.

Good enough.

I slide my phone into my blazer pocket, switching out my ID and placing the fake one in my wallet. My real one’s going in my bike on the way out. No way I'm getting caught with that.

I step out to find Lila in a similar color scheme to mine. Her dress is black, long with a mid-thigh slit on each side. Her bust is barely contained in the sleeveless, heart-shaped neckline. The heels they decided to torture her with are six inches tall, bringing her to just an inch below my height. They are a juicy red, matching the color of my tie.

She wastes no time, wrapping herself around my arm in a purposeful way as she presses her breasts against my bicep. I pull my arm out of her grip and eye her cautiously.

“Listen, we're pretending that we're dating for this assignment, but that doesn't mean you get to take advantage.” I hold her gaze as I speak, needing her to know I'm putting down a line she shouldn't cross. “Don't be affectionate until we get there. Once we're there, you can hold my hand or my arm. Hell, you can even run your fingers through my hair. But there will be absolutely no kissing. You can't grab my ass or my dick, and you certainly can't make me grab your ass or tits. Don't press them up against me like you just did, either. Think of this as courting, okay?”

She pinches her brow, pressing her lips thin for a moment. “Sure, Ryder. We're really going to be selling the whole dating thing acting like that,” she says with deep sarcasm as she rolls her eyes.

“We sure are.” I plaster a smile so fake I feel like a Ken doll. “Now let's get this show on the road.”

We take the white Lamborghini Diablo had sent to Juan's house for us and head for the club. Everything I memorized the last few hours floods my brain—planning, calculating.

I feel like Blaze.

Ew.

When we get there, we use the valet, because what self-respecting rich man parks his own car? Lila immediately latches herself to my arm, doing exactly what I told her not to and holding it across her chest so her breasts are essentially hugging my forearm.

I roll my eyes, but shoving her off now would raise more suspicions than I need.

Please give me my reward, KitKat. I promise I'm not enjoying this .

We enter the building and I slip the hostess a bill to sit us in the corner where we can see all the exits and entrances. She obliges, taking the money discreetly, and leads the way to our table.

My eyes are peeled as we head for our table, searching for our guy, but he's nowhere to be found. At least not yet. I hold Lila's seat out for her and push it, because it's a great way to show we're in a relationship without me being physical.

A point for Ryder, please.

Our waitress takes our drink order, a glass of wine for her and an old fashioned for me. I hate the drink, honestly, so I get it, knowing I'll nurse the hell out of it and not get drunk on the job, trying to keep pretenses up.

“So, you want to tell me why you're so adamant about keeping your distance? I've already told you, what happens on these tasks between us stays with us,” Lila starts back up again, and I swear everyone can hear the sigh that slips out of my mouth.

“And I've told you, I'm not interested.”

“That would be a first,” she remarks, her confidence at an all-time high.

“It wouldn't be the first time I'm a girl's first.” I wink at her, knowing no one can hear what we're saying but can see how we're saying it.

Act like you like her with your expression.

Talk about sending mixed signals.

She opens her mouth to speak, but she doesn't get the chance as our guy walks in. He's alone, no bodyguard, no entourage, and no girl. He's easy pickings if we can get him alone and cornered.

I'm so focused on the guy, I don't realize Lila has moved so close. Somehow she silently moved her chair beside mine, her arm pressed against mine with what little room she left. I try to keep my focus on our supplier while simultaneously and silently trying to scoot my chair away from her .

No luck.

Her hands cup my face, turning me to face her in such a way that my lips are immediately assaulted by her own. I've never wanted to hit a woman in my life, but Lila has just proven that the gene exists inside me. I want to push her away, to storm out, but with our guy three tables down. I can't do shit.

I go stiff, knowing no one can see my lips. I don't kiss her back, letting her practically eat my lips as I keep them glued together. By the way she digs her fingers in my cheeks, I can tell she's annoyed by my lack of response. After a few more torturous seconds she pulls away, doing her best to school her expression, frustration dancing in her eyes.

“You crossed a line, Lila, and you're going to learn what that means when we're done here.”

She freezes as if it's just now dawned on her that there might be consequences for her actions. I'm pissed the hell off, and all I can imagine is running her over with the Lamborghini outside. Instead, I take a deep breath and turn my attention back to average Joe.

He's excusing himself, so I do the same, following him to the bathroom. He doesn't notice me, doesn't even look back once. Part of me worries there's more to this guy than I'm aware of. My danger radar is spiking and I'm not sure why, which is only freaking me out more.

Inside the bathroom, I take my spot two urinals down from his, trying not to look his way. There's really no telling how he'd react. He'd either think I was some creep, or he'd grow suspicious of me. I shake it, flush, and make my way to the sink just a few seconds before him. I'm thoroughly washing my hands when he passes me by.

Bro, are you really not going to wash?

His hand is on the handle, my chance to corner him slipping through my fingers. When the door swings open, Lila's there, pushing him back inside. In the mirror, over her shoulder, I can see a hulking figure make its way across the dining area toward the bathroom.

He does have a guard.

Immediately, I hop into action, pulling Lila all the way in and locking the bathroom door, the click resounding in the otherwise empty restroom.

“Dammit, Lila. There's a reason I didn't do it here.” There's banging at the door within seconds and I know I need to make a decision soon.

Average Joe is trying to be invisible, but he's literally the target. So, that's not going to happen, buddy.

“So what? There's a window there. We get what we need and we're out.” She shrugs like she did nothing wrong.

Ugh. Why was I stuck with you?

Am I this annoying?

“Fuck it. We don't have another choice now.” My attention turns to the supplier and he blanches, so pale he could blend in with the walls. There must be something in my expression, because he's squirming way before I even reach for my gun.

“Start talking and I won't shoot.” He's scared, but he's not stupid. “Talk fast enough and you can slip out of here without suspicion. She and I were having sex in here and blocking the door.”

On cue, Lila starts banging back against the door and moaning. Her acting is spot the fuck on, but I shouldn't be surprised by that. She's a psycho.

“Tick Tock,” I wave my gun side to side. “Who's paying you to slip their merch into Diablo’s crates?”

He's shaking all over. “I—I can't.”

“You're running out of time. She's getting close,” I warn, pointing toward Lila, and she understands exactly what I need her to do.

“Oh. Fuck!” she yells. “Harder, harder. ”

Okay, Lila. Chill, we're not trying to get more attention.

“Give me a name.”

“I—I don't know. She never told me. She used a code name.”

Of course they did. Or rather she did.

“Keep talking.”

“Uh—she's tall. She has, sh-sh-she has long hair.”

I step closer, raising my gun to his forehead. “Come on, man. You're describing so many women right now. Give me something.”

“She's high up in Diablo's line. She told me—she knows when the shipments come and which ones to switch.” He steps back but meets the wall, my gun an inch away from his forehead now.

“There's gotta be more.”

I'm getting a vague idea of who, but I need to make sure.

“I don't—I don't know!”

“Yes you do!” I press the gun beneath his chin, lightly squeezing the trigger. “Keep talking.”

He's racking his brain, I can see it in the way his eyes flicker in panic. “One of her guys,” he randomly spouts as if some revelation just hit him. “He called her Cas.”

Fuck.

Dammit, KitKat. You got bad taste in friends.