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Lord, please forgive me. Please take these from me. I have no business thinking things like this.

“You okay?”

Just wishing you were mine. “Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“You can say that again.” She leans on the railing beside me. “I learned that I had another grandfather, then lost him, and you reunited with your estranged brother. What a strange mess we find ourselves in, Mr. Granger.” She beams at me.

“You seem to be handling it well.”

“For now. Once this is all over, I’m sure I’ll have a day of eating ice cream in my pajamas and watching Hallmark romance movies.”

I laugh. “If you have another spoon, I’d love to join, too.”

“That would be great.”

Our gazes hold, and what was meant as an innocent joke deepens to a longing I can only hope she feels, too.

And if she does? Nothing has changed. It can’t. Especially now that my brother is involved. My feelings already cost him greatly, and here I am, putting him in danger again.

“Ryker, are you okay?”

“I don’t have the greatest history with my brother.”

“Really?” She feigns shock. “I couldn’t tell.”

Unable to help myself, I smirk at her. “You are incredible, you know that?”

“I do, but how so?”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you. I’m supposed to be finding you answers, yet you’re out here trying to help me through something that is entirely self-inflicted.”

“My grandfather always said I was an excellent multi-tasker,” she replies. “Besides, helping others does help me. I was always better when I had something to do.” When I don’t immediately respond, she nudges me with her shoulder. “I’m a fantastic listener, Ryker.”

Turning toward her, I study the bruising on her beautiful face.

I’m captivated by her strength.

Here she stands, battered and bruised, yet she wants to help me.

I don’t deserve even a moment of it.

Chapter 24

Dahlia

Open up to me.

I want so badly to help ease at least some of the tension that’s settled over Ryker in the short time we’ve been here. While I did overhear a bit of the argument between him and his brother, I refuse to bring it up now and use it to pry the information out of him.

He either tells me, or he doesn’t.

“When I was seventeen, I got involved with this girl. Angie. She was...” He trails off. “She was everything I thought I wanted. I trusted her completely. When she asked me to deliver a package to an uncle, I didn’t think much of it—I just did it. Turns out, she had manipulated me into running drugs.”

“Oh, Ryker.” I stare at him, the brokenness still so present on his face.

He’s been carrying this all these years.

“The second time, they nearly killed me and told me they would kill me, my brother, and my mom, if I didn’t keep running for them.” He takes a deep breath. When I glance down at where his hands grip the railing, I notice every single one of his knuckles has turned white.