When Patrick passed several months ago, he had one dying request. He wanted the scrolls found and returned to the O’Shea family. He’d tried for years to recover them but to no avail. Ryker fully intended to finish the job...it was the least he could do for the people to whom he owed his life.
“Damn, Laney is calling me,” Braden stated. “Keep me posted no matter what happens or what time it is.”
Laney was calling? Was she okay? Did something happen?
Every time he’d thought of her since Miami, all he could think about was the way she came apart in his arms. She’d been so responsive, so passionate. Now when he thought of her, all he could think was that she was carrying his child. His. Child.
The words didn’t seem real even in his own mind. How the hell was he going to take care of a baby? What did he know? His father had only taught him how to get high, get laid and steal. The essentials of every childhood according to dear ole Dad.
Ryker kept his eyes on the house, but his mind wasn’t on the job. Damn. This was why he never got involved with anyone. His loyalties were with Braden and Mac now. And by default, as their baby sister, Laney. If he was worrying about anyone, especially a woman, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the task at hand. And the task sure as hell wasn’t Laney.
She’d called Braden, not Ryker. That shouldn’t bother him, but it did. There was no denying that he wanted to be the one she called on when she needed anything. But he couldn’t be that deep in her life and keep his distance at the same time.
His mind went into overdrive. If something was going on with the baby, she wouldn’t have called Braden, that much Ryker was sure of.
Ryker disconnected the call. The penny was heavy in his hand. Over the years, he’d tried to tell himself that the souvenir from the best day of his life was ridiculous and childish to keep. Yet each day he left his house, he grabbed his keys and the penny and shoved them in his pocket. He couldn’t seem to let go of his past.
Story of his life.
After another hour of waiting, which brought the grand total up to six, Ryker decided to call it a night. Laney would let him know if more activity came through her. She’d managed to tap into several areas: emails, private messages on social media, a cell phone.
Ryker always marveled at how crazy brilliant she was. She was seriously the brains behind the operation when it came to research and hunting down people. For years, she’d managed to find anything online, while Ryker did the grunt work. They were a team in a sense, but he never wanted to look at things that way. If he did, then he’d have to admit there was a relationship. And even when their dealings had been platonic, he couldn’t analyze things too deeply when it came to Laney.
The woman could make a man forget everything else in this ugly world. She had beauty, grace and a stubborn streak he couldn’t help but admire.
And now she was having his baby.
Pulling himself up straighter in his seat, Ryker brought the engine of his SUV to life. Snow covered the streets and showed no sign of stopping soon. December in New York was just as brutal and unpredictable as in Boston.
Cranking up the heat, he maneuvered through the streets toward the hotel. Another cold hotel. He always booked a suite. Mostly because growing up he’d lived in a one-room dump of an apartment. Now that he could afford to stay anywhere or buy anything he wanted, he fully intended to take advantage.
But he’d never look at another hotel the same after Miami. Laney changed everything.
He couldn’t even wrap his mind around the fact he was going to be a father. What the hell did he know? His own father had used him as a punching bag when he was awake and only half drunk. Ryker never wanted marriage, kids, the minivan experience. He was just fine with the job he had. Though Braden and Mac would never tell him this was a job, to them he was simply a brother, a best friend.
Which made this pregnancy so much harder to comprehend. He couldn’t come to grips with how he should deal with it, so how the hell could he figure out how to tell them?
Laney was such an innocent. They’d worked for years to keep her safe, to keep her behind the scenes. Ryker had made enemies all over the globe. Now that Laney was pregnant, he would have to be twice as diligent about keeping those he cared about safe.
Yeah, he cared about her. Too much. Being ten years older than her, he’d not paid much attention when he first came to the O’Sheas as a teen. Then he’d been out of the house mostly doing grunt work and earning his way in the family, so he didn’t have to go back to his former hellhole.
By the time he’d started coming around the house more often, Laney was a teen herself and he was a bastard for looking at her twice. If Patrick O’Shea had ever thought Ryker was eyeing his daughter, Ryker doubted he’d still be here.
But Ryker had respected the man more than anyone. Patrick had shown him what a true father figure was. Patrick had cared for his children, put them first and kept them protected at all costs. He had demanded loyalty, and there was nothing Ryker had wanted to give him more.
Which was one of the main reasons he wanted to be the one to uncover the scrolls. Patrick was gone, but Ryker still wanted to do this one final job for the only real father he’d ever known.
And all the more reason Ryker needed to keep his hands to himself where Laney was concerned. Patrick had been extremely protective and cautious when Laney wanted to date certain men. There were guys who wanted to date her simply for her last name or because they thought they could get into the family and wanted to use her as a warped version of a job interview.
Ryker had done neither of those things. He’d just gone straight to taking her against a wall and getting her pregnant like a loser.
One thing was for sure. He may not be father material, but he wasn’t about to ignore his responsibilities. If he had his way, he’d whisk Laney and their baby away and tuck them safely in his home in London...or he’d buy a damn private island. Anything to keep them safe.
He had the funds, that wasn’t the problem. No, the problem came in the form of a beautiful, stubborn, Irish goddess who would rather argue with him than listen to reason.
Ryker pulled into a parking spot right outside the window to his room. Always on the ground floor, always near an exit.
Fear overwhelmed him for the first time in years. Not for himself but for Laney and their unborn child.