Page 3 of Ravaged Devotion

“We…We don’t know, Master Ryker.” Wesley shook his head pleadingly. “I’m doing my best to find him.”

Ryker tossed him to the side and reached for the door handle.

“Where do you think you are going?” Rhys clipped out, and his hand immediately froze.

“I can find him,” Ryker said.

“And do what?”

“Bring him back and get answers.”

“No. You’ll remain here with your brother. You can’t go out there in this state. You’re covered in blood for Light’s sake.” Rhys huffed and pushed past him, opening the door himself and blocking the entrance with his broad shoulders. He motioned to Wesley to follow him, and then delivered one final command Ryker’s way. “Stay here. If I find out you’ve disobeyed, or that you’ve lost control and killed anyone else, your brother won’t be the only son of mine currently in a box.”

That was cold.

Even for him.

But then again…maybe not.

Typically, people who murdered their wives in front of their children didn’t have a much colder freezing point than that.

Ryker held his ground, not because he was scared of his father—although he sort of was, mostly because he wasn’t like the doctor and therefore not a complete idiot—but because Rhys had made a point.

Even if Ryker did find Rue, what then?

Rue wouldn’t be able to wake his brother.

And if Wesley couldn’t find him, that meant Rue had gone into hiding.

Why?

Guilt?

Okay.

Okay. Ryker could understand that.

Ryker could wait.

He’d wait right here until Rue was ready or was found by someone else. Then they’d find out why he wasn’t here when Urial and his brother had entered the machines they were now both trapped inside.

There was a good reason.

Rue always had a good reason.

And he always came back to Ryker.

Always.

With everything else going on, all the ways his life was currently falling apart around him, that was one thing he knew he didn’t have to be worried about.

Moving back to the chair he’d occupied next to the pod, Ryker lowered into it and inhaled. He’d put the pieces back together. Carefully glue the mask back in place. Sort through his demons and his chaos and cage them like they were meant to be caged. The locks didn’t have to be foolproof. Didn’t have to be made of the same solid steel it’d taken him eighteen years to form.

No, Ryker only had to hold it together long enough for Rue to come to him.

Once Rue was here, everything would be fine again.

Better.