“Stop!” The word ripped out of me before I even thought about it. “Ryder, stop, please!”
He froze, his shoulders tight before he shoved the man to the ground and stepped back.
“Are you hurt?” Ryder asked finally, voice low and shaking with restraint. “Violet, are you hurt?” He moved toward me, rough fingers catching my jaw, turning my face to get a better look.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, pulling myself from his grip. “You’re the one who’s bleeding.”
Ryder frowned, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. His knife glinted as it caught the light, drawing my eyes. Without a word, he crouched, dragging the blade clean across the man’s shirt before snapping it shut and slipping it into his pocket.
“How… what… Oh my God, you tackled us?” I exclaimed.
“Would you rather I just let them take you?” Snorting, he reached for the guy’s phone that had fallen on the floor. “Good thing I didn’t give you a minute, huh?”
I just looked at him, my skin numb.
He glanced at the screen. “Double if you deliver her today,” he read, followed by a low whistle. “Fucking hell, blondie. You really are popular. Almost makes me want to hand you over myself.”
I swallowed, but he only shot me a wink.
“Relax. It’s a joke.” Dropping the phone, he smashed it with his heel. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Chapter 32
Ryder
Me:
Two guys tried to grab her outside Atlantis.
Shit is getting serious.
The Russian Prick:
Germans?
Me:
How the fuck am I supposed to know? I was too busy hitting them in the face to ask whether they preferred Bratwurst or Cumberland.
The Russian Prick:
…
“Who are you texting?” Violet asked, her tone quiet.
I immediately pocketed my phone, ignoring the vibration. “No one important.”
So, I was getting the impression she wasn’t impressed with my use of persuasion. Personally, I thought the knife worked well, considering she was with me and not being shipped to fuck knows where with those two idiots.
Seriously, there were too many people circling. Toomany variables and moving parts. Every second we delayed was just another chance for something to go wrong.
“Don’t say I never give you anything,” I said, dramatically gesturing to the two beds. “Sometimes I think I spoil you too much.”
She only exhaled, soft and tired. “What about our stuff?”
“I’ll have a friend grab it.” I shrugged. “Going back to the last hotel would be suicide. You’ve already been tracked once. I don’t think it’s wise to give them another shot.” Her silence lingered, so I added, “Just so you know, you’re paying for this one. Being your babysitter is costing me a small fortune.”
That earned me a sharp glare in return, and I barely suppressed my grin at the usual spark in her eyes. They’d dimmed slightly since she’d been unceremoniously dragged down a darkened street by her hair. But now her bite was back.
