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"Yeah, well neither do I, normally. This is a specialoccasion."
"Special in what way? Big bucks?" For the first time, Axe's eyes sparked withinterest.
"Why, you interested ifso?"
"Maybe. I'm always looking to pick up cash that I can use to keep my other investigationsafloat."
Ryder knew by other investigations, he meant he'd refused to accept that his now fifteen-year-old daughter, Mia, who'd been kidnapped at the age of twelve, was dead. It had to be a father's worst nightmare, knowing or at least hoping, his daughter was out there somewhere, waiting for her daddy to come in and rescue her, and not knowing where to findher.
He couldn't even imagine the nightmares Axe saw when he closed his eyes at night. He'd spent the first year of her disappearance focused solely on finding her. Calling in every favor. Spending every dollar he and Mariellehad.
As his wife's hope died, he'd had to carry the faith for both of them until she'd been killed just over a year ago in a single car accident. Ryder'd read the news story online. 'A tragic accident' the reporter had said. 'Another sad blow for a family already undersiege.'
But Ryder suspected the truth was Marielle couldn't live with the nightmare of not knowing where her only child was any longer. Not knowing if some pervert was hurting her. Helpless to protect herbaby.
He remembered his Aunt Ginny's words as he'd called home from Moscow, looking for an update on the case."Losing a child to death is the second worst thing a parent can live through. Having your child snatched, stolen away from you and never knowing where they are or what's happening to them... that is the worst pain a human cansuffer."
Looking at the shell of his friend Axe, he knew those words to betrue.
"Listen, I have some time off. In a few weeks, after I wrap up the job I'm on now, why don't I come back. We can go through the evidence again with a fresh eye. Ican..."
"Why now?" Anger bubbled up in his friend'saccusation.
"What do you mean, whynow?"
"I mean, where the hell were you three years ago–when the trail was hot and I needed you themost?"
"You know damn well where I was. I was in deep cover, in no position to tell the Bratva I needed a few weeks off to fly back to California to help my oldfriend."
"Fuck vacation. Fuck the Bratva." Axe threw the empty beer bottle against the wall in his anger, punching a hole through thedrywall.
The men had never spoken about the nightmare Axe and his family lived through. On one level, Axe's anger was understandable, yet it still caught Ryder offguard.
He got defensive. "What did you want me to do? Throw away my career? Burn myself and years of Russian language studies. Throw away the dozens of unspeakable tests I had to pass to get into their innercircle?"
"Yes! That's exactly what I expected from mybrother." He spat the final word as if it were acurse.
Ryder was floored. Truly taken aback. Had it really been so selfish of him to stay in Russia? He'd sent over ten grand to the online fund setup to collect donations to help fund bringing Mia home safely. Sitting in that dingy living room, facing the shell of Axel Alvarez, he realized the gravity of hismistake.
That he'd come here to ask for Axe's help with Khloe's case as if nothing had happened since the last time they'd seen each other was unforgivable. He sat stunned, unsure what to say–how to recover from hiserror.
For a moment, he allowed himself to feel sorry for himself. What a fucking emotional rollercoaster week he'd had. First burning years of work, yet miraculously rescuing the Marshall women and saving Chip Marshall from the nightmare Axel was going through timesthree.
Second, reconnecting with a woman he had no right to, realizing too late that he'd only hurt her worse than he already had when it was time to leave. The irony was, he knew it was going to devastate him,too.
Now, walking in on a time bomb he'd been too selfish todetect.
Ryder leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he hung his head in his hands, trying to think his way out of the shitshow he'd backed himself into. He forced deep breaths until he could think clearly again, a technique that had served him wellundercover.
He sensed Axe moving around the room and finally looked up when a cold bottle of beer was shoved in his line of sight. He reached to take it, thankful for anything that might help numb theemotions.
Axe had taken a seat again, looking pensive as he swigged his ownbeer.
Their joint "I'm sorry," wassimultaneous.
His friend smiled. "Holy shit. Who are you and what did you do withRyder?"
"Fuck you," he quipped, still offbase.
