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Ven’s stern voice filled the air. “Calm the fuck down. She’s a grown-ass woman now, not the scared little twenty-one-year-old that ran all those years ago. Maybe knowing you helped her come into her own somehow.”
“Then why not contact us?” he questioned. “Her mother admitted to telling her we were here. She should know better than to go it alone with this nasty fucker.”
“Should she? It looks like she’s doing a good job of taking care of this her own way. Why don’t you give her a chance, and we’ll be here to back her up if things get dangerous?”
Shoving his fingers through his hair, Ryder sank down into an armchair. “I think that I have no choice on this one. What’s her mother like?”
“Sweetest lady you’d ever want to meet,” he said with an obvious smile in his voice. “She wants to see you.”
“I don’t know how I feel about that. It seems wrong to visit Tiffany’s mom without her approval. She left me, and that would make it seem like I’m forcing my way back in.”
Looking for all the world like a father who would like to smack his son in the back of the head, Ven replied seriously, “Yeah, except there’s that whole part about her inviting you. I would think that your old lady might get offended that you turned down her mother’s very sincere invitation to dine with her.”
Mulling it over, Ryder replied tersely, “Fine, tell her I’ll come.”
“I already did. You’re bringing dessert.”
Swearing under his breath, Ryder jumped to his feet. “What about my goddamn old lady being missing is hard for you old folks to grasp? Our attention should be on finding her and making sure she’s safe, not paying social calls on each other.”
Giving his son’s shoulder a quick squeeze, Ven dropped the bomb he knew would seal the deal. “She alluded to the fact that she might have intel on Stuart Chamberlain. It seems her husband was gathering info on the crazy fucker before he kicked the bucket.”
Ryder felt a surge of adrenaline pump though his body. Some dirt on Tiffany’s stalking ex was exactly what he needed most right now. “Let Mrs. Stone know I’d be happy to accept her kind invitation.”
Ven grinned. “You can be downright gracious when you need to be, son. I thought you’d see it my way. Her last name isn’t Stone. It’s Donovan. Mom says Stone is an alias her father came up with to keep her safe.”
“Her old man sounds like a smart fucker. I want my old lady back, and I don’t care what old lady’s shoes I have to lick to make that happen.”
“That’s a visual that’ll stick with me. Get yourself a shower and put on something nice. I’ll pick up a dessert of some sort and swing back around to pick you up.”
Curling his lip without meaning to, Ryder thought about climbing back into the cramped pickup that brought him here. “I hate riding in a cage.”
Ven barked, “No bikes or colors here. It draws the wrong kind of attention, son. Pretend you’re a chameleon and try to blend in with the local color.”
“That’s easier said than done, old man.”
Stalking to the shower, Ryder tore off his clothing and stepped under the hot cascade of water. Imagining his old lady huddled under a bridge somewhere or sleeping in her cold SUV tore a gigantic hole in his heart. Never having been in love, Ryder was finding their first separation to be rife with worry. The loneliness was so profound that it was hard to find words to describe the pain their separation wrought on him.
Pressing both hands to the wall, Ryder closed his eyes and remembered how she smelled. Images came to mind of her smiling at him, teasing him, and laughing at his jokes. God, how he missed her laugh.
His body was a twisted mess. His chest hurt, his dick throbbed at the remembrance of her soft, warm body rubbing against his, and he just couldn’t find it in this heart to jack off. It was frustrating as hell. He was tempted to nail the stupid bastard and let them throw him in lockup. At least Tiffany would have a chance at a normal life. One of his club brothers would do right by her, of that he was certain.
Soaping up, he rinsed his tired body and stepped out to dry off. Minutes later, he was dressed and standing in front of the bathroom mirror. He shot the blow dryer though his messy hair just so he didn’t have to hear his old man bitch.
Switching it off, he slammed it on the empty counter. Finger-combing his hair, he tried to get ahold of his emotions. He was a goddamn mess. Staring at himself in the mirror, Ryder tried his best to see what Tiffany saw when she looked at him. His stringy brown hair had grown down almost to his collar. The brown eyes that she’d always said she liked were now listless and marred with dark circles underneath. He wasn’t anyone a woman would choose if they met him today, that’s for damn sure.
He’d been working night and day for weeks, first on solving the issues related to his club president being shot, and then on finding his nurse. The scruff of beard made him appear unkempt, but he just couldn’t find it in his heart to give a shit.
Closing his eyes, he decided to shave because he was going to meet her mother. He didn’t want the woman to think badly of her daughter for being with him. Reaching into his grooming satchel, he pulled out his cordless razor. It had just about enough charge to get the job done.
Slamming the razor back into his bag once he was done, Ryder scrubbed his hands over his smooth face. He could feel himself slowly becoming unhinged. Very soon, his beautiful little nurse was going to have two crazy men to contend with. The woman deserved so much better than the cards she’d been dealt in life.
A gruff voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You ready, son?”
Nodding, he turned to face his father. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Following his father out to their vehicle, he climbed into the passenger’s seat. His father must have sensed how close to the edge he was because he didn’t speak during the ride, electing instead to play vintage rock. That suited Ryder just fine.
They pulled up within fifteen minutes at a charming two-story colonial in a nice neighborhood.
