Ryker (Kings of Korruption MC Book 1) (23 page)

“Stay back!” he roars, raising his knife high over his head, a clear threat that he won’t hesitate to bring it down into her chest.
 
I lower the gun slightly.
 
His body relaxes just before I squeeze the trigger, shooting him in the shoulder.

The knife drops from his hand as he clutches it with shaking hands.
 
His scream of pain fills the tiny cabin.
 
I rush him, knocking him off the bed, away from Charlie.
 
Climbing on top of him, I raise my fist and punch him in the face.
 
Then I punch him again.
 
And again.
 
And again.
 
I grunt with effort every time I land a blow.
 
Blood coats his face and my knuckles.
 
At first he tries to fight me.
 
I don’t even notice when he stops fighting back.
 
I keep punching him, blinded by rage; all reason gone.
 
I’m not aware of anything but my need to kill this motherfucker.

“Ryker!”
 
Reaper’s anxious voice roaring my name slows my fists.
 
He’s on the edge of the bed, untying the last of Charlie’s bindings.
 
My rage clears, panic taking its place.
 
I jump to my feet.

“Charlie!”
 
She’s motionless.
 
Her skin’s so pale, I can see the blue of her veins beneath it.
 
“Baby girl!
 
You need to wake up!”

Helpless, I look to Reaper.
 
He whips off his t-shirt, ripping it in half.
 
Glancing at me quickly, he moves to put pressure on two large gashes on her torso.
 
“Call 911.
 
Give them the co-ordinates.
 
We’ll carry her out to the road to meet them.”

In a daze, I make the call, giving them the address, only telling them a woman’s been stabbed before hanging up.

“Put pressure on these.” I move to press the ripped t-shirt over the two gaping holes.
 
“She’s alive, but barely.”
 
Reaper is anxious, but in control.
 
“She’s not good, brother.
 
She needs a hospital, fast.”
 
Grabbing a ratty afghan off the loveseat, he throws it over her, covering her nudity.
 
“We need to move her to the road without jostling her too much.”

I nod, eyes locked on Charlie’s lips.
 
Those beautiful lips that have given me the most amazing kisses I’ve ever received; they’re turning blue.
 
Reaper looks quickly around the room, then hops off the bed.
 
He moves to the center of the cabin and kicks over the coffee table.
 
Picking up the edge of a ratty pea green area rug, he drags it over beside the bed.

“Help me lift her,” he demands.
 
I stop putting pressure on just long enough to grab her under the arms while Reaper grabs her feet.
 
Together, we lift her down and place her in the center of the rug.
 
“Give me your belt.”

I yank my belt off, handing it to Reaper.
 
He wraps it around her belly, using it to hold the wadded t-shirt in place.
 
He takes off his own and does the same with the other wound before looking up at me.
 
“You know the cops will show?”

I nod, heart hammering in my chest.
 
I can’t speak.
 
The words choke me, stuck in my throat.
 
Charlie may not make it.
 
Deed may not get his interrogation right away, but I don’t give a fuck.
 
Charlie needs an ambulance, and an ambulance means the cops will get involved.
 
I may go to jail for this.
 
I don’t even know if Krueger will live.
 
He may be dead right now for all I know, and it was me that beat him.
 
None of that matters though.
 
Not my freedom.
 
Not my club’s shaky relationship with the Devils.
 
Nothing matters but helping Charlie.
 

We each take an end of the rug, folding Charlie up in it, and hurry out the door.
 
Jase is running up to the cabin just as we exit.
 
He looks down at the rug, a question on his face.

I finally find the words to speak.
 
“We’re taking Charlie to the road to meet the ambulance.
 
Stay with him ‘til the cops show.”

“Cops?
 
We’re lettin’ the cops in on this shit?”
 
He sounds surprised.

I look down at Charlie before answering.
 
She’s wrapped up in that filthy carpet, covered in blood.
 
She may not live and I don’t know if I can live with that.
 
“Charlie’s in rough shape, Jase.
 
We
had
to call an ambulance.
 
The cops will be right behind them.
 
We didn’t do this so we have nothin’ to worry about. Krueger is the one that kidnapped her, likely raped her and stabbed her, not us; we stopped him.
 
Just tell ‘em the truth.”

Anger fills his features when I describe what happened to my girl.
 
He nods, then stalks into the cabin.

We make it to the road, arms aching from the long hike, carrying our precious parcel, just as the ambulance approaches.
 
The cops come screaming along right behind them, sirens wailing through the woods.

In a flurry of activity, Charlie’s loaded into the ambulance, tubes sticking out of her everywhere.
 
In the commotion, I hear them mention a possible collapsed lung and internal bleeding.
 
I barely manage to scramble in behind them just as they shut the door.
 
The medic starts to protest, but I glare him down, grab my girls hand and squeeze.

Leaning into her, I kiss the tip of her perfect little nose, and press my forehead into hers.
 
“Stay with me, Charlie.
 
You hear me?
 
You can’t fuckin’ leave me.”
 
Every beep of the machine gives me hope.
 
Fuck.
 
I love her.
 
I didn’t realize it before, but now that I face losing her, I can’t deny it.
 
I can’t imagine a life without Charlie in it.

The beeping in the background becomes a long, steady buzz; her heart monitor.
 
The medic flies into action, beginning CPR.
 
“Sir!
 
You need to sit back. I need to get at the patient.”
 
I blink up at him, my heart dying right along with hers.
 
“Sir!
 
Move!”

He elbows me back, bringing forward the pads of the AED.
 
I slump back against the wall, defeated.
 
Running my hands through my hair, I watch as he tries to shock life back into the only woman I’ve ever loved.
 

He places the pads on her chest and steps back.
 
“Clear!”

Chapter Nineteen

Charlie

I wake up slowly to a steady beeping sound coming from somewhere beside me.
 
My body aches, and before I even open my eyes, everything comes rushing back to me.
 
Fear for my life.
 
Krueger.
 
I remember him stabbing me; about to rape me.
 
I’d passed out before that; I’d thought I was dying.
 

My throat is dry, and it hurts to swallow.
 
Opening my eyes, I know from the familiar sounds and smells that I’ll find myself in a hospital.
 
I look around the room, amazed I’m still alive.
 
My sweeping gaze stops when I see Ryker slumped in a chair directly beside me.
 
He’s sound asleep, clothes rumpled, hair a mess and a full beard covers his face.
 
Even in sleep, he holds my hand.
 

My heart clenches a little.
 
God
.
 
I was so angry at him.
 
Actually, I’m still angry at him, but here he sits, likely worried about me, wanting to be a good
friend
.
 
I’d screwed up sneaking away from the protection of the club – I’d almost died because of it.
 
Ryker had been trying to protect me, and I’d let my wounded heart get the better of me, putting myself in danger.
 
So now, I’m angry at
me
too.

Just then, a nurse comes quietly into the room.
 
She smiles when she sees me, approaching the bed with a glance over at Ryker.
 
“You’re awake,” she whispers.

I try to answer but my throat feels like I’ve swallowed a handful of razor blades.
 
She reaches over to the bedside table and pours me a cup of ice water from the pitcher that sits there.
 
She places a straw in it and holds it up to my lips.
 
I take a sip, finding the cool water does wonders to soothe my pain.
 
I gulp it down, managing three swallows before she pulls it away.
 
“Not too much, honey.
 
You need to start out slow so you don’t make yourself sick.”

She pulls out a thermometer and places it under my tongue.
 
While waiting for the results, she nods over to Ryker.
 
“Your man over there hasn’t left your side since you got here.”
 

I glance over at him.
 
He’s so gorgeous.
 
My gut clenches and I try to push back the swell of love I feel for him.
 
I can’t love him.
 
I hardly know him.
 
Not to mention, he used me for sex and then went and screwed Lucy only hours later.
 

 
“He’s kinda scary.”
 
I look back at the nurse, seeing her stare at him.
 
She looks back at me and winks.
 
“You’re a lucky girl.”

Tears fill my eyes.
 
If she only knew; I’m not lucky.
 
Ryker’s here because he cares about me, sure, but that’s as far as it goes; as far as it will ever go.
 
She finishes what she’s doing and gives my arm a squeeze.
 
“I’ll send the doctor in.”

Nodding, I smile weakly.
 
The closing door clicks loudly when she exits the room, causing Ryker to jump.
 
He sits right up, eyes darting around the room, sleep still heavy on his face.
 
When they land on me, I hear his breath catch.

 
“Charlie?”
 
I blink slowly, still trying to battle the first round of unshed tears.
 
His voice hitches when he says my name.
 
“Oh, baby girl.
 
Thank fuck.”
 
His voice hitches again with emotion, and a single tear escapes my eye.
 
He reaches his thumb out and swipes it away before it gets too far down my cheek.
 
“I was so worried about you.
 
I’m so fucking sorry, baby.
 
So sorry.”
 
His own eyes glisten with unshed tears.

 
“Not your fault.”
 
My voice is scratchy, my words slow.
 
It hurts to talk.
 
Closing his eyes, he leans forward to rest his forehead on mine for a moment before pulling away, holding my eyes captive with his own.
 

 
“It is.
 
I promised you he’d never hurt you again and I didn’t keep that promise.
 
I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am.”

Another tear falls; he catches that one too.
 
“My fault.”
 

 
“No, baby.
 
No it wasn’t.
 
I know why you left, and I get it.
 
I just ...”
 
I place my hand on his cheek.
 
“God, Charlie.”
 
He catches another tear on my face.
 
“I’m just so happy you’re ok.
 
When I walked into that cabin, I thought you were dead.
 
And fuck me if I didn’t want to die right along with you.”
 
Guilt.
 
I know he’s feeling so much guilt.

Emotions swirl through me, causing my sore throat to close up and the blood to rush between my ears.
 
Tears fall freely from my eyes.
 
Placing both hands on my cheeks, he wipes them away with his thumbs.
 
“No more tears.
 
That fucker gets no more of your tears.”

God.
 
Why does he have to be so damned sweet?
 
I need to harden my heart to him or I’m never going to survive.
 
I can’t accept his friendship or his concern.
 
He’d used me.
 
I’d been falling in love with him, and he’d called us a “mistake.”