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McLean hadn't taken his eyes off the couple, watching like a trained observer. Ryder knew he was putting things together on his own, and while it galled him to acknowledge it, he was grateful Khloe had the guard in her life. She'd need Trevor more than ever after Ryderleft.
Only after he'd swallowed sufficiently to get rid of the lump that had formed in his throat did hespeak.
"When we get to the cabin, let’s go through the evidence first, McLean. Then I'm going to see an old friend who can help us dig in and find who's behind thisshit."
Khloe hugged him tighter. "Can I go withyou?"
"No, baby. You need to take a shower and then rest. Before I leave, I want you to make a list of all of your favorite foods. The ones you've been avoiding. And then a list of foods you allow yourself to eat. We're gonna tackle this eating thingtogether."
She tried to push away, but he was too strong. "You can't tellme..."
"The hell I can't. I'm in charge,remember?"
It dawned on him that any progress he made with getting her to embrace eating again would fly out the window the day he left her again. He pushed the guilt aside, refusing to think long-term.
He'd been shot, beaten, and pushed out of moving vehicles in his illustrious career, but he'd never regretted his choice in professions until that moment. His heart hurt with a foreign pain as Khloe hugged him tighter just before falling asleep in hisarms.
So this is what love feelslike.
Chapter 17
Ryder parallel parkedthe SUV between two pieces of shit cars that lined the run-down street in the seediest part of town. He'd known his best friend from ages ten to twenty-two had fallen on hard times in the last few years, but seeing how far he'd fallen was yet another harsh blow to Ryder's normally aloofconscience.
He sat in the car, analyzing his options. Walking up the uneven sidewalk and into the tiny, rundown house turned business would be opening a can of worms he wasn't sure he was ready for–emotionally or physically. It had been almost four years since the old friends had seen each other. It felt like a lifetime ago, and yet he suspected their reunion would be worse for Axel. Seeing Ryder would remind him of better times. Times he could neverregain.
"Don't be such a pussy, Helms," he spoke out loud to the emptyvehicle.
He grabbed his duffle and got out into the waning sun, starting up the path before he could change hismind.
A cheap metal sign labelediSpy Investigationshungin the front door window, confirming he was at the right address. They'd come up with the stupid name as kids, planning even then to go undercover for hidden answers as their life's work. The two friends had taken very different paths to that end; Ryder traveling the globe mixing with the world's most dangerous crime families–Axel stuck in their old hometown, taking grainy pictures of husbands cheating on theirwives.
He shoved down his sadness at the thought, knowing a deteriorating career wasn't the worst thing that had happened to his friend. He pushed the button for the doorbell, hearing a distant buzz, ensuring the bell was working. Several minutes passed with no answer, so he pressed again, holding the buzzerlonger.
It was Friday night. Axel could be in the bag by now down at The Office. There was no fucking way he'd step foot in the watering hole turned clubhouse. Before he gave up, Ryder walked through the mostly dead yard to stand at a dirty window, cupping his hands over his eyes to look inside. The flickering light of a playing TV bounced off the dark walls, demanding furtherinvestigation.
He was about to turn to retrace his steps to the door when the click of a weapon cocking behind him made him freeze. Instinctively, he threw his hands up in the universal show ofsubmission.
"Who the fuck are you, and what the hell are you doing snooping around here?" A hint of Axel's Mexican heritage mingled with the slur of a man who'd beendrinking.
"Some kinda welcome, Square." Ryder purposefully chose his childhood nickname for Axel Alvarez–A squared–not only because he knew it bugged the shit out of the man who had groaned, but because it reminded them both of their unbreakable childhoodbond.
To the rest of the world, he was just plainAxe.
Ryder turned slowly, unsure what he'd find behind him. It was worse than he'd feared. The men were only one year apart, yet Axe looked like an old man. His once jet-black hair was now a long mass of silver and grey, matted together with his out-of control grey beard. Deep crevices left behind by years of worry and anguish were now a permanent fixture on the brown-skinned man's face. Despite the smile that crept to Axe's mouth, a profound sadness permeated the air surrounding them, blanketing Ryder inanger.
"Ryder? Is that reallyyou?"
"I was gonna ask you the same damn thing." He stopped short of criticizing his friend's appearance. If anyone in the world deserved to fall apart, it was Axe. Still, Ryder had held out hope his strong friend would have recovered bynow.
Does anyone ever recover from the hell he's beenthrough?
His friend lunged forward, pulling Ryder into a man-hug while asking, "What the hell are you doing here? I pictured you in some far off shit-hole of a country stirring uptrouble."
Axe's assessment wasn't far from thetruth.
"That was last week. Now I'm here trying to stir up troubleinstead."
Axel'd uncocked his revolver, shoving it into the waistband of his too-big shorts. The men were the same height at just under six-foot, but a very fit Ryder had forty pounds on the guy. Not unlike Khloe, the dude was wasting away, although he knew the underlying reasons for not eating were as different from the actress's as they couldbe.
