Redeeming Ryker: The Boys of Fury by Kelly Collins

Author:Kelly Collins [Collins, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-04-23T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Ana

A dark house meant Grace and Nate hadn’t made it back from the diner. If Grace had been home, every light in the place would have been burning. She didn’t like being alone. It was probably why she had so many companions.

The carnival-crash-kiss sequence had taken its toll on me, so I pulled out the extra blankets and pillow that Ryker had brought over and made a bed on the couch. I didn’t have the heart to make a pregnant woman sleep on it, so it had become my new bed. I’d slept on worse. Hell, a few weeks ago I’d been sleeping on a pile of clothes in my room.

One look around the house and I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a home. A real home with real furniture and walls the color of sunshine. I owed much of that to Ryker. Almost daily he showed up with something that I lacked. Yesterday it had been a lamp.

As soon as I pulled the tattered string, the soft glow of light filled the living room. Curled into the corner of the sofa with my computer in my lap, I Googled the town of Fury. Instead of looking at the town’s webpage, I scrolled through the results until I came up with something that said massacre. There wasn’t much listed, only that two rival gangs had gone to war and dozens of people had died. The deceased weren’t listed.

Was this the incident that had molded Ryker into the man he was today? He’d been at my house more than his own over the past few weeks, but I knew nothing about him. All I really knew was that he was handy and an excellent kisser.

I closed the browser and looked through my emails. The slew of new messages caused me to smile. I’d set up shop on Fiverr and offered to do any graphics work I could. Mostly I was making logos for indie authors and fliers for garage sales, but every dollar counted, and through word of mouth, At Flight Graphics was getting business. Not the kind of business I’d dreamed of—I wasn’t developing brochures for Fortune 500 companies—but I was making enough to pay my utilities and get a little extra work done on the house. For now, that was enough.

The door handle shook, and a moment later, Grace walked in alone.

I slid my computer to the end table, another gift from Ryker.

“Where’s Nate?” I didn’t know where their night had taken them. Was it only the diner, or was it something more? Grace wasn’t one to be cautious. That was obvious by her bouts of morning sickness and her tightening pants.

She hadn’t decided what to do yet about her situation. She was burning up unpaid sick leave and hanging out with me until she had an epiphany.

“Hey, slut,” she said to me as she walked in. Grace threw her purse on the floor in the corner and collapsed on the sofa next to me. In her hands was a white Styrofoam container.

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