Page 111 of Ride or Die

Saint wiped the blood off one of his knuckles. He’d spent the entire time wondering what Riley was doing, wanting to check the security app in her apartment, make sure nothing had happened. Things had been tense when he’d dropped her off, and it had been his fault.

He’d pushed too hard. It was too much pressure.

Wheeler and Aaron were his family.

He’d asked for too much from her.

Running pot and cash up and down the countryside was not what Saint had in mind when he’d agreed to help Wheeler on this “critical” job. Sure, they’d gotten into a scuffle with some wannabe rivals, but nothing worth his time.

Irritation crawled over his skin. Taking potshots at hillbillies when there were actual predators to deal with was asinine.

He checked his phone again. No bars.

“What’s going on, boss? The firefight was fun, no one died—lover’s quarrel?”

Saint lifted his middle finger between him and Wheeler’s intelligent gaze.

“Thought so.”

Saint had an irrational urge to punch the smirk off his face. He pushed it down and watched the trees flash by.

“You wanna talk about—”

“Does it look like I want to fucking talk about it?”

Saint stared at his phone, turning it on and off again.

He hated being offline.

He wanted to talk to her. He needed to explain.

Explain what? There was nothing he could say that wasn’t an excuse. I’ve handled it, it’s just going to take some time. Don’t worry, and don’t shut me out. Let’s talk about the future. Move in.

Right.

Wheeler stayed mercifully quiet for the next hour.

They were just getting back into city limits when Saint’s phone connected. His chest loosened, and he sat back in his chair. Aaron should be done and home soon too. His flight had already left.

Saint’s phone started to vibrate in his hand as text after text and missed calls came through. His fingers tightened on the door handle.

Should’ve never left city limits.

Wheeler glanced over. “Didn’t know you had that many friends.”

“I don’t,” Saint grunted and flicked through the notifications faster and faster.

Unknown number: Your girl is spinning out, and as much as I hate to say this, maybe call her back? You know, like someone who isn’t a complete asshole?

Saint knew it was Kristi before he’d read the rest of the texts. How had she gotten his number?

Unknown number: OK, asshole comment aside, it’d be great if you actually picked up your phone.

Unknown number: I’m not fucking around, Saint, we need some help. I thought you had a saviour complex. Use it.

Unknown number: Gio is here.

The last text was an address and had been sent ninety minutes ago. Nothing since.