“He’s a slippery bastard.”
“We need to coordinate information. Get Wes out here and see what he’s got. I can feel we’re close, but something’s missing. Something critical that we’re not seeing.”
“Tech room, ten minutes?” Sy reached for a T-shirt that he’d draped on the back of the couch and slipped it on.
“Yeah. Let me get Taylor settled, and I’ll be up.”
“On it.”
In the next moment, I found myself being pulled down a hallway and through a door to what was obviously a master suite, as the room was large and a few items of male clothing were draped across the bed. Ryder snatched them roughly and tossed them into a doorway that was likely a walk-in closet.
Easily twice the size of my room in my apartment, Ryder’s had a king-size bed that graced the center of the room, which had a wonderful view of the ocean. The opposing wall was mostly made of glass. It reminded me of Ryder’s room on Te’re, which brought a host of other memories that I wasn’t ready to deal with. I had a brief impression of caramel-colored wood floors with beautiful, moss-hued Persian rugs, cherrywood furniture and pale, neutral walls before turning my attention back on Ryder, sensing aggressive energy. He tossed my bag on the rumpled, unmade bed and faced me, scowling.
There was something on his mind, his black eyebrows drawn together, giving his chiseled features the impression of being even more angular and rough-hewn. He wasn’t a pretty boy like Sy. No one would mistake him for being a pretty male model, but he was so damn hot in a rough-looking way, and he just exuded power, strength and dominance. His vibrant eyes held me. There was danger behind them. I was ashamed to admit they still excited me without having to do more than flick over me. I didn’t know if he was going to pin me to the wall and ravish me (which, stupidly, I would probably have let him do, if the tingles in my womb had anything to say about it), or if he was angry about something.
He grimaced, his sensually curved lips flattening into a tight line.
“What?” I asked warily, wondering what was coming next.
“Nothing,” he said flatly, though his eyes still held a burning intensity. I could see him mentally backing off, shutting down. “Make yourself at home. Closet is through there and bathroom is through there.” He motioned toward the two doors in the room. “We’ll be on the third floor, if there’s an emergency.”
And then he left.
Chapter Seventeen
It was all so abrupt.
I just stood there looking at the empty doorway for a moment, feeling somewhat abandoned and thinking, WTF? He was just going to dump me off here with a bad attitude and leave, like I was just some kind of bothersome bug or unwanted relative. Not that I needed him to take care of me, but I’d only been in his house five minutes, and he was already out the door.
I knew things were going to be weird. I was an animal, after all, right? Brausa were animals. My breathing hitched a moment as I considered that. Now that he wasn’t in the immediate vicinity, I could think more clearly. I could truly ask the question of whether this was the best solution. Who knew how long it would take to actually catch Frank, Ranik, whatever his name was, and I didn’t want to live my life in limbo. Maybe I needed to find a new apartment. Start over in a new town. A new state. A new country, even. No, not a new country. I’d be forced to learn a new language, and I just wasn’t good at that.
Dammit! He had invited me here. I hadn’t asked to come here. I might have had limited options, but I would rather have risked my apartment and just called the police for protection than been treated like an imposition. I’d been made to feel like one all my life. I hated it.
On top of that, he was assuming I was going to sleep in his room. It hadn’t even occured to him that I might want to discuss this, that I might not be comfortable playing house. Which probably meant that he likely thought I was just some easy ho-bag who would go along with his wishes in a docile manner. Why? Because he was a big man with a deep voice? Or maybe he was used to women who simpered and sighed and batted their eyelashes at him all day because he was a big strong man. Well, whatever the case, he had another think coming. That was for sure.
Riding the wave of my own indignation, I grabbed my bag and walked back down the hall. There was another bedroom, smaller, with a queen-size bed and cute little side tables. I dumped my bag on the bed and looked around. There were two other doors in the room, one of which was a small walk-in closet. Nothing was in there, so I figured this was likely a guest room. The other door, when I cracked it open, revealed a large bathroom. It connected the master bedroom and this room. I’d have to remember that and lock both doors when I went in to shower.
Feeling proud of my initiative, I unpacked my work clothes and hung them in the closet. I cursed as I realized I’d left some shoes and accessories behind in my apartment that I would need for the next few days. And I needed my car, so I could get myself places without having to beg a ride from Mr. Stony Face.
Shit, shit, shit! My car!
It happened to have been left overnight for two nights now, around the corner from the Ivy. It had likely been towed at this point, which meant another few hundred to get it from an impound lot. That was an extra few hundred I didn’t have! They would probably need all my insurance forms and registration. I wondered if those were still in the glove box or back at my apartment. Couldn’t anything go my way? Even a little thing? Something?
Feeling completely overwhelmed with defeat, I had tears burning my eyes, and I needed to sit on the bed as waves of mental fatigue ambushed me. How much longer? When could I come out of the rabbit hole and know that all was well again? I had never complained that my life was boring. I had never been one to seek adventures. I was feeling so done!
But giving in to despair was truly a luxury, particularly for someone without money, so I rubbed my eyes, took a deep breath and stood up again. It would only get done if I did it, was my motto. If I needed to figure out public transit from this location, then that’s what I would have to do, no matter how much that would suck.
It only took a few minutes to finish putting my things away in the closet and bathroom. Below the double porcelain sinks were cabinets where one side was virtually empty, so I stuck my makeup bag and blow dryer in with a few other odds and ends. I walked back through to the living room and took a deep breath, looking around to see where it was I would be staying for a few days.
The condo had a great open floor plan encompassing both dining and entertainment. The kitchen was all stainless steel, with granite counters that had veins of blue and gray running throughout. Tiles on the backsplash behind the stove picked up the blue color, while the entire flooring throughout the condo was the same beautiful hardwood. A rustic wooden table sat on a light-colored throw rug that had an intricate pattern of blue threads running through it, and of course, the large sofa with the soft brown, buttery leather faced that gigantic entertainment center that took up most of the north-facing wall. To top it off, another amazing view of the ocean could be seen out of a set of sliding glass doors that led to the balcony.
I decided to investigate.
The blue undulating waves continuously rolled toward the shore. The soothing view mixed with the fresh salty breeze, and I was able to relax somewhat, considering there was still a guy who wanted to kill me. I was able to forget about all that briefly, watching the activity taking place just two floors down.
The boardwalk in Venice was always packed with a combination of tourists and bohemian personalities, but it was particularly true in the summertime. People were three and four deep, gathered around outdoor shops that lined the beach selling all variety of things, from tie-dyed T-shirts and berets in reggae colors to music, incense, jewelry and art. A man in all-silver clothing and body paint danced robotically to loud funk music from an old-style ghetto blaster for tips, while another man did on-the-spot caricatures of patrons in chalk and pastels.