I dig in my backpack with one hand. “Cole, I need you to do this.” He glances out the rear window and then back at me. “Just drive. I’ll call or text you, but it might be a while.”
He stares at me. “Ryder, seriously? What are you talking about?”
I pull up to the loading dock, all too familiar with knowing how to slip through unnoticed. I shove the car in park and dig in my backpack, pulling out my Sig, holster, and boots.
Cole’s eyes widen at the sight of my pistol.
I kick off my sneakers and squeeze around the steering wheel to tug on my boots. “Just drive, ok?. Watch your mirrors and keep making turns until I message you. No stopping for any reason. Do you understand?”
I lift my shirt to clip my holster onto my belt. He watches me as I shove the magazine into place and rack the slide.
His eyes track my every movement. “That’s what’s always in your backpack?”
I slip my knife into my boot. “No, most of the time, it’s on me.”
“Ryder, what’s happening? Where are you going?” His severe concern stops me from pushing the door open.
I meet his distressed, wide gaze. “Someone needs my help. I have to do this. Just do what I said so I know you’re safe. I can’t worry—”
About you.
His brow creases, and his eyes flick between mine so fast.
“Please. Trust me. I have to go.”
It only takes a second for him to push the door open into the dark abyss. He rounds the front of the SUV, meeting me at the driver’s door.
“Please. . .be careful.” His plea is soft and full of confusion.
“Do what I said, and if I call or message, I need you to do exactly what I say.”
He nods this time, climbing in the driver’s seat.
I take off running up the loading dock, knowing every second matters.
Hang on. Just hang on. I’m coming.
Chapter 26
COLE
Click. Click. Click. Click.
I stare at the red light, waiting to make a left turn. My shoulders are so tense that the muscles running up the sides of my neck burn.
My mind is split between who’d switch out my playbook and watching Ryder jog up a dark ramp and into. . .
What? The only thing I know is she’s prepared for danger.
My mind spins with the realization of just how much I still don’t know about this woman. The one I spend all of my free time with. But it doesn’t matter. A massive wave of anxiety wreaks havoc on my stomach because, despite that, I need to know she’s safe.
My sweaty palm grips the steering wheel as I check my phone for the hundredth time, waiting for her name to appear.
The light turns green, and I make the turn, watching the car behind me in the mirror. My phone vibrates, and I snatch it up.
Maggie. After today’s fiasco, I knew she’d be calling. Desperate for a distraction, I answer.
“Hey, Mags.” I croak through my dry throat.
