Is this his way of playing with his food before he eats it?
A way to draw out his torture. I murdered his only two allies, and he just left her when he had the opportunity to take her and make her pay for my sins.
Coming up to a vending machine, I stick in a five-dollar bill and press on the energy drink that I know isn’t going to do shit for me.
I’m not sure what the fuck he’s up to, but it’s not sitting right with me. Nothing about her being in a hospital bed is.
“Come on.” I slap the side of the machine when I see it hasn’t given me my drink. “Son of a bitch!” I kick it.
“I gave it a twenty earlier and got nothing for it.”
I look over at Ty standing beside me and sigh heavily. “What are you doing here?” He promised me he would watch her. I was the one who failed her by expecting anyone else to keep her safe.
He tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and rocks back on his heels, dropping his head. “I can’t leave, knowing you’re still here.”
I roll my eyes and go to walk away. Fuck the five dollars, but his words stop me.
“You were here with me …” Pulling his hand from his pocket, he runs it through his unruly hair, and my eyes drop to his shirt, realizing he’s still dressed in the same one he was wearing when he brought my wife in. I know this because it still has her blood on it. I haven’t left this place, but thankfully, Gunner brought me some new clothes. “I just didn’t think you should be alone in case …” He stops himself.
My hands fist. “In case she dies?” I finish it for him. I’m being dramatic. I’ve spoken to Gavin, and he said that everything looked good as far as no serious injuries. No hemorrhaging. She does have a broken nose and some cuts and bruises, but it’s still the fact that it could have been so much worse.
His shoulders drop. “I didn’t know …”
“What, Ty?” I raise my voice. “That Matt was there? Because he knew she was there.” We’d been staying there all week. Not like it would have been hard for him to find out. I let her dance with Sarah the night before, wanting her to have some fun. I should have just run with her.
“It’s not your fault,” he says softly, and I give a rough laugh.
“Thanks for the opinion that I didn’t ask for.” I turn, giving him my back.
“The Lords are only out for themselves, Ryat,” he calls out.
Stopping again, I grind my teeth and turn to face him, but say nothing.
“You want to save her?” He walks over to me. “The only way to do that is to let her go because even if you were to die tomorrow, they would own her.” My spine stiffens at his words. “Her father won’t be able to save her. Your father won’t be able to save her. They take prisoners, Ryat.”
I glare at him, “Then why are you still a member, Ty?” Arching a brow, I continue, “Just betray your oath, and they’ll make that decision for you.”
He smirks, his left hand coming up to rest on my shoulder. “Why do you think I chose the hell I did?” With that, he slaps my shoulder twice and then walks off.
I stare at the energy drink I never got but paid for, and my teeth clench. He was talking about Blackout. The Lords set him up with that club. Purchased the land, built the building, and then handed it all over to him—free and clear. Now it makes me wonder what he has to do to keep it.
Shaking my head, I tell myself not to fucking care about his problems. I did once. I even sat here in the waiting room with him, but I know how that ended. Much worse than my experience here.
I know Blakely will come home, and I know that I won’t let her go. I’ve seen the worst of the Lords, but I’ve also seen how they take care of their members—like fucking royalty.
I’ll do what needs to be done and make sure that Blakely and our future kids are very well taken care of and able to hide if something were to happen to me. That’s the best I can do for them.
Walking back over to the machine, I lean over, placing my forehead on the cold glass and sigh heavily. “Fuck it!” Then I stand, reach up and grip the back of my shirt. I yank it up and over my head, knocking my hat to the floor in the process.
“Oh my God.” Blake’s nurse from earlier walks by. “What…what are you doing, Mr. Archer?” she asks, flustered. Her eyes drop to the way my abs flex from my heavy breathing.