I was still willing to let him go.
19
RYDER
“Come on,” Anson said, helping me to walk.
I felt like I’d been hit by a ton of bricks. The docs had put a fucking fall-risk band on my arm, and I wasn’t allowed to take a piss without someone there to hold my hand.
Now, I was free and going home.
Taking a shot to the chest and having some nasty cuts from shrapnel left me fucked.
But I was alive and more determined than ever to get back to L.A. to make sure Rosalie and Ellis were safe. They’d been gone four days now, and I wanted so badly to get back to them.
Anson helped me into the car, the nurse who pushed me out in a wheelchair bidding me goodbye, but not before she’d slipped her number into my hand.
I tossed it aside, not wanting that shit. She was hot, sure, but I had someone else in mind.
And I damn well knew I shouldn’t because I needed to speak to Anson about it all first.
I was terrified, though, that it would ruin everything. My friendship with him, and with her, especially if she didn’t feel the same.
It was a war I was battling internally.
We got in, and Frank turned to look at me from the front seat.
“You look like shit.”
“So I look like you?” I muttered.
He chuckled. “Thank you for saving little miss and Rosalie.”
I smiled at his words. “I would do it on repeat.”
He winked at me, making my stomach lurch, like he knew I had a secret. Maybe I was being paranoid, though.
We pulled onto the street. I knew we were headed straight to the airport to fly home. Doc gave me clearance, and I was taking that shit.
We fell into easy conversation on the ride to the airport, where we were taking a private jet out. I didn’t say much, so it was mostly Frank and Anson talking. I was tired and just wanted to get back to my life. I had a place at Rosalie’s, but I knew I needed to get back to my apartment, and I kept putting space between us so I could focus on what the hell I was going to do.
I was pissed over what went down with the horsemen, and I’d talk to Rosalie about it soon, but for now, I just wanted shit to calm down.
I didn’t think I was asking for too much.
We boarded the jet,and I settled into the comfortable seats, Anson across from me.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as we began to taxi down the runway.
“Tired,” I replied, my eyelids heavy.
He nodded and cleared his throat. “Hey, man, can we talk?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“When you got fucked up, you said some shit before you passed out.”
I crinkled my brows. “I did?”
