Page 46 of Death Rydes Shotgun

Ryder has walked back into the circle of firelight, a pile of twigs cradled in his broad arms.

He freezes in his tracks for a fraction of a second when he spots his phone in my hand, his dark eyes locking onto mine with a sudden, unreadable intensity.

Without saying another word, he unfreezes, stepping past me to casually toss the wood onto the dying coals.

Sparks shower upward, the flames leaping back to life and painting his muscular frame in bright, amber light, acting as if nothing is wrong.

My hands tremble slightly as I sit up, wrapping my legs beneath me, holding the glowing phone out toward him.

I stare at the massive, dark man towering over me—at the broad shoulders, the lethal jawline, the cold, unhinged eyes—and try to reconcile him with the broken, bruised boy from my memories.

“Is this you?” My voice trembles as I point to the scrawny boy standing next to Noah. “Are you Ryder St. James?”

Fourteen

Confessions

RYDER

12:45 AM

Iwatch in quiet, intense stillness as Harmony scrambles away from me on the straw, her hands shaking violently as she yanks her panties back on in absolute haste.

But the deed was done. There are no take backs.

From the moment my real name dropped into the cold air of the barn, the fragile illusion of control she was clinging to shattered into a million sharp, jagged pieces.

With a frantic, haunted panic in her light eyes, she pulls her jeans up over her tempting hips, then snatches her sweater off the floor and pulls it over her head.

I opt to stay completely naked, leaning back against the wooden support beam as my clothes continue to dry by the crackling fire.

I don’t need the fabric. I don’t need the shield.

I want her to see every inch of the man who stalked her through the carnival, the man who just took her against the dirt, and the ghost from her past that has finally come back to collect his debt, and her little show of panic will not dissuade me.

She knew who I was when she fucked me. Maybe not my identity, but she knew me.

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out. But now that you know... is there anything you’d like to tell me about the night Noah died?” I say softly, cutting through the sound of the rain outside.

Harmony freezes briefly, her hands locked on the hem of her sweater.

I wanted her more enthralled before I announced who I was. To see how far she would let me push her. Now that my time table has been sped up, we can dispense with the niceties.

I tilt my head, watching her dark curls bounce as she pulls her hair out from the collar of her sweater.

For two agonizing seconds, the barn goes completely still. Then, she finishes pulling the fabric down over her jeans, her jaw setting in a hard, defensive line as she whirls around to face me.

The fear in her eyes instantly hardens into a sharp, desperate rage—the look of a cornered animal realizing the trap has finally sprung.

Will she gnaw her own arm off to be free of me?

“Is this why you came back? Is this why you’ve stuck by my side all night? So you could fuck me... and then kill me for what happened to Noah all those years ago?” Her voice trembles with a toxic mix of venom and adrenaline.

So, she still insists on playing the victim.

A deranged laugh bubbles up from the absolute bottom of my chest. It starts as a low rumble and erupts into a cold, echoing sound that bounces off the ancient cedar beams of the barn roof.

“Oh, Harmony.” I shake my head as I look at her. “You are far from helpless.”