Air Ryder (Harper's Mountains Book 3) (12 page)

You have the wrong number.

Ryder wasn’t the son of some abusive, prejudiced, dead-beat asshole.

He got lucky enough to be the son of the most honorable man he’d ever met.

Fuck Robbie.

Ryder was the son of Beast Boar.

Lexi wrung her hands over and over from her place on the couch as she stared directly at the front door. Even if it took him all night to come back, she would be here waiting.

Something was wrong with Ryder.

There was some deep ache inside of him that he was trying to soothe. She hadn’t realized it when he’d come at her like an animal earlier. She’d just recognized he wanted her and got lost in the moment because she loved him wild.

But the sick look on his face when they’d finished pierced her heart.

He’d bolted, but she wasn’t angry. She was worried.

His eyes—they’d never looked so bottomless and hollow. And his smile lines had disappeared like they’d never existed at all. It was as if he’d seen a ghost.

The door creaked open, and Ryder cast her a quick glance, then away. She didn’t miss it though—the shame there.

His voice cracked when he said, “I’m sorry I left like that.”

He stood there, gaze averted to the floor, shoulders hunched like he had a thousand pounds resting on them. His jeans were folded neatly and draped over his arm. Perhaps he’d Changed and hadn’t bothered to dress again.

“Can you come here?” she asked gently.

Ryder ran his palm roughly from the back of his hair to the front, mussing his fiery hair. He clenched his jaw so hard a muscle twitched under his eye, but he gave in and sat beside her.

“What happened?”

The air grew heavier, harder to breathe. “I know you want answers, but I need a little time.”

His rejection hurt. “Why won’t you just let me in?”

“Because I don’t want you to see this part of me. Not yet. It’s not something I’ve shared with anyone, and I’ve only had you one week, Lexi. I want more before you run.”

“I’m not running, so—”

“You will if you see how fucked up everything gets in my head. I’m working on being good enough for you—”

“You are good enough—”

“No, I’m not! Not yet. I will be. I swear it. I’ll work hard and get through my shit, but I want to tell you everything when I won’t break down like a fucking baby in front of you. Okay?”

“Give me something, Ryder. Please.”

Ryder grimaced, baring his teeth for a moment before he composed his face and poked a couple buttons on his cell phone. He handed it to her and then stood and strode for the bedroom, leaving her to read the damning messages alone.

His real dad was back, messaging him after twenty-five years of rejection and silence. After abandoning him and signing away all his parental rights. And as she read Ryder’s simple, clipped response,
You have the wrong number
, she knew his story was much deeper than he’d told her, or anyone else.

His real dad was dying, and still, Ryder wanted nothing to do with him.

Lexi clutched the phone to her chest, and something white caught her attention.

On her lap sat Ryder’s apology, a promise that he was still here. There sat his pledge that he was trying. He couldn’t give her all the answers yet, but he’d given her the piece of himself he was able.

On her lap sat a long, snow-white feather.

“Sexy Lexi, tell me you’re off work.”

Lexi giggled over the phone, but it was barely audible over all the raucous in the background. “Sorry, lover. I’ll have to join you boys later. I’ve got a bachelor party, and they hired me for a few extra hours to play bartender and make snacks. At least it’s in the big cabin! Plus they are tipping like crazy.”

Something big shattered in the background, and Ryder winced away from the phone. “What the hell was that?”

“Oh my gosh, I have to go. Someone just knocked over a vase. I love you. I love you! Don’t get drunk until I get there! Oh, and Ryder?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Congratulations. I’m so fucking proud of you! Tell Wes hi. Okay, gotta go.” She made a couple of smacking kiss noises into the phone, and then the line went dead.

Bachelor parties were now Ryder’s least favorite part of Lexi’s job. She was a professional personal chef, not a beer wench for drunken, sloppy wanker-faces.

Wes sat down at the bar beside him and ordered them a couple of beers from Bubba, Drat’s Boozehouse’s newest bartender.

“Is Lexi stuck at work?” Wes asked.

“Yeah, she’ll be here when she can.”

A lot had happened over the last week. A major push from Ryder and Wes had the Big Flight ATV Tours building almost finished, and today they’d booked their first paid tour, happening one month from today. With the deposit, the business was officially up and running and cause for celebration. Nine o’clock was still early to go hard at the shots, but Wes had wanted to meet up for dinner, just the two of them, like a fucking bro-date. He would have given him some major shit if he didn’t find it so cute. Wes played like he was hard, but ever since they were kids, he’d always made sure they got one-on-one blood brother time. The little stage-five clinger. Ryder hooked his arm around the back of his neck and ran his knuckles roughly over Wes’s dark hair.

“Get off, asshole,” Wes muttered, shoving him hard. He rubbed a hand over his hair and grumbled, “Man, that’s why I like wearing a baseball cap around you. Fuckin’ knuckle sandwiches, really? You’re like a child in a man’s body.”

“You looooove me,” Ryder sang, then took a long swig of beer and waggled his eyebrows once at Wes over the bottle.

“Speaking of loooooving someone, how are you and Lexi doing?”

“Fucking awesome, I want to marry her and put a dozen owl babies in her.”

Wes’s face went completely slack, and he jerked his gaze away.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Wes said too fast.

Fuckin’ little fucker. “Tell me!”

Wes opened his mouth, then clacked his teeth closed, took a long drink of his beer, stalling like a pro. Ryder was a patient hunter, though, so he let him down his whole stupid beer.

Bubba set the burger baskets Ryder had ordered for them on the bar, but the second Wes reached for a fry, Ryder yanked the food away from him.

“What the hell?” Wes asked.

“Tell me what that look was for, or no food for you.”

“Come on, man.” Wes reached for his basket, but Ryder snatched it away and licked one of the burgers.

Ryder stuck his tongue out right above the other one and made his eyes as big as he could. “I’ll thuckin’ do ith,” he swore around his tongue.

“Lexi told Alana about what happened last week, and Alana told me.”

Ryder frowned and tossed Weston’s un-licked food to him. Four fries fell off the side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and furthermore, Alana is being a terrible second best friend.”

“She’s worried about you, so that would make her an awesome second best friend. She asked me to talk to you, but I already know you’re a horrible sharer, so I just wanted you to know if you need to talk…you can talk to me, and I probably won’t make fun of you.”

“Noted, now what was that look really for? Because I know it wasn’t for that bullshit.”

“Nope, that was it.” But Wessy-poo wouldn’t meet his eyes, and now the Novak Raven was very busy stuffing his face with his burger.

Ryder didn’t buy it, but whatever. He had beers to drink and onion rings to devour and pussy to lick, because he was gonna
get
Lexi’s tasty little morsel tonight. His dick thumped against the seam of his jeans just thinking about her writhing under his mouth, gripping his hair, pulling him closer, begging shamelessly, screaming his name. His mate was a noisy little critter.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Wes asked through a grossed-out grimace.

Ryder took a giant bite of burger and nodded to the dark-headed loner at the end of the bar. With a gulp, Ryder jerked his head in invitation and said, “Kane, come be social.”

“Hard pass.” The Blackwing Dragon hadn’t even taken his eyes off the soccer game on the television screen behind the bar when he answered.

Ryder groaned. “Kaaaane. Just fucking do it so I don’t have to move all my stuff down there.”

Kane slammed the rest of his drink and twitched his head at Bubba, ordering another. With a muttered curse that started with “M” and ended with “other fucker,” Kane plopped down onto the stool beside Ryder and jacked up his black eyebrows behind his sunglasses. “Happy?”

“Yes, thank you for asking. I’m now getting laid once a night—”

“I don’t care.”

“—and our business is taking off—”

“Still don’t care.”

“—and yesterday, I convinced my mate to wear a thong for a whole hour—”

“Don’t caaaare.”

“—and now I’ve got a Blackwing Dragon as my fourth best friend.”

Kane looked sad and defeated. God, Ryder loved annoying people. Beside him, Wes snickered and shook his head.

“S’cuse me, Ryder Anderson?” a man asked from behind them.

Ryder glanced over his shoulder at a grizzly-looking older man with a long, scruffy beard and silver, greasy hair. His skin was leathered, his wrinkles deep, but there was a hardness in his dark eyes that had Ryder’s hackles on the rise.

Wes murmured, “His last name’s Croy, and he’s eating, man. He can sign autographs after we’re done.” His tone sounded as troubled as Ryder felt.

Ryder forced himself to turn his back on the predator. He didn’t smell like a shifter. Wes and Kane were still staring at the man behind him and would keep his exposed side safe enough, but fuck, he wanted away from this guy.

“You know me.”

“I assure you I don’t.”

“You don’t recognize me, son?”

Ryder’s heart dropped to the toes of his boots. Robbie Anderson. He blinked slowly and stared at the liquor case behind the bar, wishing he could smash one of them across the asshole’s cheekbone.

Ryder offered the old man his profile, then glared at him over his shoulder. “What the fuck do you want?”

“You ignored my messages.”

“I think you should leave,” Wes said coolly. The air reeked of dominance and anger now. Wes had seen all the bad years. He’d witnessed the aftermath of Robbie’s destruction.

“Two minutes of your time is all I’m beggin’.” There was still a hardness that didn’t match his pleading words, and all Ryder wanted to do was escape. He wanted to tuck Lexi under his wing and move away, break his bond to the Bloodrunners, hide for the rest of his life in a hole deep enough that Robbie would never find him again.

“Two minutes, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

Ryder turned slowly on the barstool. As he locked gazes with the man, the slight familiarity was there. It was in the eyes. They hadn’t softened in all these years. “I want your word on that. I mean, your word’s pretty fuckin’ flimsy, but I want it anyway.”

“You have my word.” Robbie’s lips twisted into an empty smile, as if pretending he wasn’t a snake.

Ryder followed him to a booth nearby, all the while thanking the powers that be that Lexi was working late and not here to witness this. When the old man’s face melded with the cruel face that had laughed when five-year-old Ryder had been lying on the floor, clutching his throbbing cheek, Ryder’s heartrate went crazy. He clenched his fists against the urge to strangle the final breaths out of Robbie right here and now. Ryder tossed a look back at Wes, whose eyes had gone black as a raven’s, and Kane was staring after him with an unreadable gaze behind those sunglasses.

And for a moment, Ryder felt like a child again, sent off by his mom to spend a few days with Robbie. The fear was still there. But as Ryder sat back on the booth seat, he studied the monster who had been lurking in the shadows of his life all this time, and he came to realize something. Robbie Anderson was just a man, not a monster. He only had the power Ryder gave him, and that shit ended now.

Ryder wasn’t some scared kid anymore. He wasn’t small and helpless. He had fifty pounds of muscle on his biological father, more fighting experience under his belt than humans could guess at, and his owl wasn’t the terrified, gray, little owlet anymore. Inside, his animal raged to be set free to bleed this man.

Robbie made a disgusted ticking sound and said, “Nice eyes.”
Fuckin’ little freak.

Ryder wanted to pummel his face with his bare hands. “Two minutes. What do you want?”

“I came to see how much you’re like me now. I want to go knowing I left my mark on the world.”

Ryder huffed a breath and shook his head. “Zero percent like you. I was raised by a good man.”

“Raised by one don’t mean you’re his, boy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because my real dad calls me that. He earned nicknames. You earned nothing.”

“
I’m
your real dad. My blood runs through your veins, Ryder. I
named
you. I watched you come screaming into this world, and no dad was prouder.”

“Bullshit.” Ryder shook his head, disgusted. He looked around the bar, anywhere but at Robbie’s dead eyes.

“You feel the emptiness yet?”

Bile clawed up the back of Ryder’s throat as he crossed his arms.

“You feel the hole? The one you can’t fill up with anything. That’s from me. That’s from your granddad and great granddad, down through the generations. And oh, I was just like you, thinkin’ I would break the curse. It’s why I tried so hard with your mom.”

“You didn’t try. I remember everything. I remember how unhappy you made her. How you didn’t want to touch her. I saw you standing on the other side of her bedroom door when she was sobbing one night, and you were smiling. You were a shit husband.”

“I did the best I could with her, and you’ll do the same to the woman you play house with. Why do you think you’re thirty and still haven’t settled down? I used to hate the curse. Hated being the way I was, until I didn’t anymore. One day I just realized some men are made for families, and some men are made for procreation. We Anderson’s are made for the latter.”

Ryder hated him. Hated him for what he was doing. Consciously, Ryder knew this was horseshit. His dad was just a lowlife abusive sonofabitch. He was a master manipulator who could turn words and phrases and make people question everything. He was that good at lying. But right now, his words made so much damn sense. Maybe Beaston and Weston never saw him with a mate because he had that poisonous Anderson blood flowing through his veins. Maybe he’d been broken from birth.

Robbie leaned forward. “The best thing you can do is leave your baby mommas to raise your mistakes, because I see the monster in you, Ryder. It’s the same monster that lives in me.”

“I remember what you did,” Ryder gritted out. “I remember everything. Every bruise, every scratch, every fractured bone, every drop of blood. I remember every hateful word you spewed at me, and I remember how you would look my mom in her eyes and tell her you took good care of me when she wasn’t around, you piece of shit. Damn straight you got a monster in you, Robbie. But I’m nothing like you. Two minutes is up. Do the world a favor and die quickly.”

Ryder stood, but Robbie followed him toward the bar. “I wanted a different life for you. Your mom and that boar ruined you. I only made girls after you, and my only son who coulda carried on my family name was brainwashed with all that hippy-dippy shifter shit.”

“Yeah, well that shifter shit is my life since I’m a fuckin’ shifter and all.”

“You weren’t supposed to be!”

Rage blasted through Ryder’s body, and the edges of his vision collapsed inward. In an instant, he had Robbie against the back wall, his hand crushing his throat. “What do you mean by that?”

“I tried to save you.”

“Save me from what?”

“From that fucking animal your momma put inside of you.”

The feel of Robbie’s sagging, clammy skin made Ryder sick. He released him and stared at the old man in horror. “What did you do?”

“I signed you up for a program that would’ve given you a normal life, and your mom said no. I fought hard for you, but that asshole boar pushed me out of your life.”

“What program?” Ryder asked low. It better not be what he fucking thought it was.

“You would’ve been one of the first to be genetically cleansed.”