8. Ryanne “Shorty” Larwick

8

RYANNE "SHORTY" LARWICK

Time passed.

Maybe it was because of all the excitement, I was suddenly lightheaded.

Maybe if I sat here, a little bit longer, the water would cool and calm my body.

When I lifted my head, I was lying on a bed, night had fallen and someone was standing at the window, his body silhouetted by the moonlight.

I cleared my throat.

He turned and smiled at me.

"Boss—what are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm your shadow right now, Ryanne." He replied, walking to sit on the side of the bed. "How you feeling?"

"Um—slight headache."

I tried sitting up and was so weak, he had to help me.

Once I had pillows behind my back, I glanced around.

"This isn't my room."

He shook his head. "No, this is Moros' room."

"What—"

"You passed out in the shower." Boss replied. "He brought you here after he revived you. Your bed is wet so?—"

I covered my face with my hands.

"I want my life back." I groaned.

"We're working on it." He replied. "Here—drink this. We need your sugar to regulate. Let me get you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry." I accepted the drink and took a couple swallows. "I promised Pasha I'd stay in my room. Can you help me get back? I'll figure out the sleeping situation later."

Boss tilted his head. "You can't just stay cooped up in your room."

"Well, it doesn't matter. I can read—catch up on my sleep. I don't know."

"Do you have any books with you?"

"No—but I know Khadri has some in his office. I can borrow something from there."

"To do that you have to leave your room."

"It'll only be for a second." I pouted and drank the rest of the juice.

"What's your deal with Pasha?" Boss asked.

"I don't have an issue with her." I lied. "I'm a guest in her house. And I don't want her accusing me of trying to sleep with her man. I'm not completely dense, you know? I can read a room."

"They aren't together, Ryanne."

"If that's true, no one told her." I set the glass on the bedside table then shoved the sheet off to stick my feet out of the bed. "I'm going back to my room."

"Oh, no." Boss put me back in bed and drew the sheets over me. "When Moros comes back, he'll take you back. For now, I'm going to make you food. Stay here."

He stood but stop at the door.

"This isn't Pasha's house." He informed me. "It belongs to Moros."

Blinking, I watched him leave and closed the door behind him.

I was officially depressed and by the time Boss knocked again, I was definitely not feeling hungry.

"Boss, I told you I'm not?—"

The door opened and Khadri stuck his head in.

"Why are you knocking?" I folded my arms across my chest. "This is your house."

He said nothing.

I was pretty sure he was angry because I snapped at Pasha.

I wasn't going to apologize.

"I want to go back to my room," I said, getting out of the bed. "I promised Boss I'd stay here until you came back."

When I tried getting by him to leave, Khadri caught my arm and tugged.

I went sailing by him and fell to my back on the bed. Before I could get up again, his large frame was over me, pressing me to the bed. His hips landed on mine as he lifted both my arms over my head to hold me down.

"I was hoping we could have a conversation." Khadri's voice was low but dangerous. "But it seems you like doing things the hard way. So, Shorty, let's talk."

I tried struggling.

"Get off me!" I demanded.

"Tell me why you're so angry." Khadri ignored my command.

Once again, I tried flipping off me to the bed. Instead of releasing me, he knelt over me, lowered his ass to my thighs but kept holding my arms.

"You know how to make this stop." He told me.

"I don't want Pasha to walk in here with you on top of me." I told him. "I'm not kidding, I will stab her if she comes for me again. She will not talk to me like that because you're fucking her. Now, get off me."

Khadri laughed softly but lowered his mouth to the side of my head to nip at my ear. He shifted his body to stretch his weight on top of me.

"You tell me you want me to let you go, Shorty." He growled softly by my ear.

I inhaled and held the breath.

"But your nipples against my chest is saying something entirely different." He teased. "You're telling me, if I handcuffed your wrists together and slide my hand into your panties, you won't be wet and ready for me."

I glared at him.

"We like the truth, don't we, Shorty?"

"That is none of your business." I managed. "I refuse to be anyone's mistress."

Khadri sighed and met my eyes.

"Pasha and I aren't together." He told me. "I think you know that already."

I rolled my eyes.

"Here's the deal." Khadri paused. "We're going to fight this thing that seems to be happening between us because that's how we're built. But we both know sooner or later, we're going to end up in a bed together and we'll be naked with you tied to it. Now, do you prefer I tell you I told you so while you're coming or after?"

"You're disgusting."

He smirked at me.

"I know why you don't want me to touch you." His voice was small, sad. "It sucks—but not new."

"I don't know what you're talking about.

The smile that flickered across his lips was fast, like a flash of light through a thick darkness. Nodding, he climbed off the bed.

But my body was too turned on and weak to move.

"You're free, Shorty." He walked away to stand by the window. "You can run away now."

"I wasn't running."

"No?" He didn't face me. "What would you call it?"

"I don't do well with drama. And I know you say you and Pasha aren't dating. I can't believe that."

"Then that's a you problem." He didn't say anything else.

And while I sat up to watch his back, I didn't feel the urgent need to run away anymore.

Maybe it was because me leaving would have proven him right that I was running, or it was the fact I could still feel the heat on my wrists where he'd held me.

Or because I could still feel his large, hard body on top of mine—it wasn't because I felt unsafe.

Sighing, I fixed my clothes, dragged a hand over my hair but remained seated.

"You're still here."

"I wasn't struggling because you make me feel unsafe?—"

"I know that, Ryanne." He replied. "I get it."

The ringing of his phone interrupted him. Before the disturbance, I thought for sure we would have a silent moment to just talk. Maybe if we did, I could find a way to tell him that I found him sexy as fuck and I wanted him in ways I'd never wanted anyone else.

But again—the phone.

I sighed.

"Yeah?" Khadri answered. "He's definitely on the list?"

Silence.

"Can you tell how he got into the country without all the alarms going off?"

Pause.

"Shit." Khadri rubbed his eyes, sat on the windowsill and stretched his back. "Find him, Tex. If we can get a hold of him, he could lead us to Sloan. Any leads on who he's working with or for?"

Another round of silence and uh-huhs.

"Right," Khadri said. "I thought he burnt all those aliases."

Khadri nodded and grunted.

"Okay, let me know what you find." Khadri spoke. "In the meantime, I'll talk to Ryanne about that. Send me the footage and I'll give it a look. Sometimes facial recognition software misses things."

He chuckled.

"The ego on this man." He muttered then laughed. "You're a dick."

Pause.

"Thanks, brother." His voice was soft before he glanced over at me.

I could have sworn he blushed then looked away and hung up.

"Come with me."

His long legs brought him by me and out the door before I gathered myself to follow.

In his office, he brought Boss and Pasha in. I sat in a solo chair while the friends shared one. Khadri sat in the overstuffed one behind his desk and started the video on the massive screen mounted on the wall.

It was of the airport. The crowd was insane but no one seemed to be paying attention anything. People were on their phones, staring down at travel documents, reading the signs and the screens around them.

No wonder when things happen, everyone had the same thing to say.

It all happened so fast.

No, it all happened and drifted by all of us like time slipping unnoticed into oblivion because we were attached to our fucking screens.

We didn't bother looking up anymore.

"Hey!" I flailed with one hand while pointing to the screen. "Go back!"

"What's up?" Pasha asked.

"Go back—" I instructed Khadri.

The pictures stopped as he hit rewind.

"A little moooore…there!" I pointed again. "See that man in the red t-shirt? I know him! Well, I don't know him , know him . But my boss, Greg, had to throw him out of the diner about a month and a half ago."

"What?" Khadri asked. "Are you sure?"

"No one else on the face of the planet has that stupid haircut." I rested my hands in my lap. "That's him."

"Why did he get tossed out?" Boss asked.

"Well, came in, ordered water, then coffee and nothing else." I explained. "He was occupying the table, just staring at me. He was there before I got in, so we didn't really think anything of it. Until one of the waitresses came to me and told me he was asking some really invasive questions about me."

"What kind of questions?" Khadri asked.

"If I was married," I said. "If someone picked me up after my shift."

"That is weird." Pasha murmured. "Moros, do you know him?"

Khadri shook his head. "I'm going to assume he's one of Sloan's goons."

Another phone call and a man with a Texas accent came on the right side of the large screen.

"I see we have everyone together." The man spoke.

He must be John Keegan. Dude had spoken to him while we were together the last time. But I hadn't met him.

"Ryanne Larwick." He drawled. "You sure are popular these days. How are you beautiful, lady?"

I giggled. "You must be Tex."

"What gave it away?" He smirked.

"Tex, I'm putting you to work." Khadri told him.

"Oh, Darling, you might have to clear that with my other boss." He thumbed over his shoulder at the woman now scanning the shelves behind him.

She laughed out loud.

"You leave me out of your shenanigans, John Keegan." She teased, kissed his cheek, waved at us and sauntered away.

I blushed.

"What do you need?" Tex asked.

"I'm sending you a picture," Khardi said. "See if you can?—"

"Marshall Clark." Tex told us.

I blinked.

No one else seemed stunned.

"I'm going to get us something to drink." Pasha offered.

I opened my mouth to tell her that I was fine, but she was already out of the room before I could.

"Who's Marshall Clark?" I asked instead.

"A man who's going to be dead when I get my hands on him." Khadri growled.

"Okay, Daddy," Boswell said, softly. "Down boy. We need to know what he knows before you kill him."

"Let me work." Tex told us.

Khadri nodded and Tex cut the call.

We continued through the tape—Pasha returned and while I wasn't thirsty, she'd done something nice for us and I didn't want to come off like an ungrateful bitch.

We finished the video—watched it a second time while going through our cold drinks. They talked around me as I delved into my head, trying to remember if there was somewhere else I'd seen Marshall.

Maybe not even Marshall, but someone who was lurking around that shouldn't have been in a certain space.

Were they following me around?

If they had been, how long?

That would explain how they knew where I worked, where I lived—but since I had no life, I didn't frequent many other places.

On Saturday nights, while other women my age was out partying, I was in bed by eight—watching Chinese Dramas and shoving junk food into my face.

Sundays the diner was closed.

I would sleep all day then felt guilty for wasting the day.

Boswell stood and Khadri offered to walk him out.

I was left alone with Pasha who was staring at me.

I wished I had my phone to play a game even though the battery wouldn't last very long. But that would hold me over until Khadri returned.

"I'm not sleeping with Moros, you know?" Pasha broke the silence.

I closed my eyes.

Squeezed them tightly.

"Whether you're sleeping with him or not is none of my business." I informed her. "That's between you and him."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want to find out who's trying to kill me then go back to my life." I lifted my chin to glare at her. "I have no intentions of stealing your man, so stop throwing yourself at him each time I enter a room like you're trying to make me jealous."

"Aren't you?" Pasha leaned forward. "Jealous, I mean."

"Pasha!" Khadri barked from the door.

She gasped and almost fell off the chair.

Taking that time to rise, I headed for the door, shoved by Khadri into the hall before stopping.

"I'm trying to think if I'd seen anything that would now seem suspicious." I didn't look back at him. "I mean, how many red flags did I look pass and didn't even know."

"You can't blame yourself." Khadri tried comforting me. "Some dangers you wouldn't have spotted."

"But she would have." I pointed out.

"Yes," Khadri replied. "Because being my friend for all these years, she's trained to. You aren't. There are no special abilities or sixth sense."

"I feel useless."

I hadn't meant to say that out loud—especially with Pasha around.

Khadri sighed and walked over to caress my right cheek. When I averted my eyes, he drew me into his warmth and used one hand to rub my back while the other travel up—across my shoulder to the back of my head to held me tighter.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my arms still at my side.

"Boswell says sometimes a hug can be helpful." Khadri explained. "I don't suppose he meant a hug from me. I'm pretty sure people feel the darkness when I hold them. But you look like you needed a?—"

I wrapped my arms around him.

Pasha appeared at the door then and I peeled myself from his arms and darted off down the hall.

It isn't enough.

The hug hadn't been long enough.

I want more.