Page 113 of Ride or Die

Of course it was her.

The security team spread around him and Wheeler, and they all stopped in the doorway, edging closer to the commotion in the middle of the lounge. Saint kept his hands loose at his sides, empty.

He almost didn’t recognize Riley with her face twisted in a snarl. She was standing over a woman, screaming at a man a head taller than her with greasy hair and a gold chain around his neck.

The man from the loading bay. The rabid dog Saint should have put down and didn’t.

Another man shouldered in front of Gio Ricci, and he had the same look, just leaner, more composed. Nico Ricci.

Gio’s face twisted in a cruel laugh, and Riley’s mouth closed. The transformation was minute, but Saint saw her go from helpless rage to calm resolution in the space between beats.

He knew that look.

Saint surged forward, but Riley moved faster and swiped a glass off the floor. In one smooth movement, she stood and hurled it at Gio’s head.

It was a clean shot, shattering against his nose, glass tinkling to the floor, and for a second nobody moved. Nico blinked in surprise. Riley stood still, panting.

“Rattlesnake, indeed,” Wheeler muttered, rocking forward onto his toes. Pride flickered at the blue shimmering storm before them.

Gio clutched his nose, and unintelligible rage bled into the air. Red dripped from his chin.

The security team shifted forward, vibrating with anticipation. They waited for Nico’s signal.

Ricci men. Not club security.

“He drugged her, Nico!” Riley spat, eyes widening as she looked around, like she’d just noticed she was surrounded by armed men. Panic made her shake, but she didn’t move. The blonde at her feet groaned.

Kristi. Shit.

“Bella, I said I’d handle it, and I will.” Nico had a fist clenched in Gio’s sweat-stained dress shirt. He tried to keep his voice smooth under the strain. “I need you to trust me.”

Wheeler made a low sound of disapproval. Saint concentrated on the pounding adrenaline coursing through him. Nothing else.

“This isn’t fucking handling it!” Riley snapped, eyes darting around, hands shaking at her sides.

Gio had a manic hunger in his eyes and struggled to pull Nico’s fist out of his clothes.

Wheeler caught Saint’s eye. Yes.

Nico whipped his head to Gio, snarling something in Italian, and Gio’s grin widened, teeth stained with blood.

Wheeler moved his hand to his waist and lifted his jacket.

Everything faded away, and time slowed. Gio twisted out of Nico’s grasp and lunged forward, his clawed fingers reaching for Riley. She jerked back but stayed over Kristi.

Saint darted forward, Wheeler with him, a moment before the men surrounding them moved. Saint’s arm banded around Riley’s waist, and he pulled her away from Gio. A scream tore out of her throat, and she thrashed and kicked. The team moved to flank Nico.

No one touched Gio, and his arms closed on empty air.

Wheeler crouched over Kristi, sliding his arms under her knees and shoulders, his back to them.

Riley strained for Kristi. She threw her elbows back, tried to shake Saint loose. He dodged what would have been another solid hit.

“Easy, Ri, it’s me.” He breathed her in, the tang of fear covering the florals and alcohol. She struggled for a second more and then registered his voice. She went slack in his arms.

“Saint,” she whimpered, eyes closing, and relief flooded him.

Kristi let out a pained moan. Wheeler stood with her in his arms and her head lolled against his shoulder, eyes fluttering open and closed.