Page 16 of Ryker

I chuckled. “Funny. If you pull that knife out, you’re going to die a slow, agonizing death. You’ll bleed out, sure, but it’s not serious.”

“You’re crazy.”

I chuckled, crouching down so we were face to face, and trailed my bloody fingers along his chin. “I won’t deny that, but I think you knew that before you started this, which makes you an idiot.”

“He’ll eventually get you, you know that, right?”

I growled in his face, and he paled. “Who’s he?”

“Never saw him. I just know that he’s crazier than you are.” Then he tugged the knife and jammed it in farther as his eyes rolled back and his breath expelled from his lungs. Someone knew about me—maybe even my men—and I had no fucking idea where to start.

I had never mentioned that information to them, not that night when I returned home drenched in a mixture of the victim’s blood and my own, nor any night since. We protected each other, and it was my duty to make sure my men were safe. I could never tell them that someone had almost bested me.

“Merchant?”

I nodded, clearing my head of those thoughts. Brent and I would just have to be more vigilant this time around. “Yeah, I’ll get started on it.”

“You’ll pack up tonight.”

“Yes sir.” I waited awkwardly in the chair for Chief Matthews to continue. He had mentioned more than one task. I leaned forward and met his eyes. “You had something else, Chief?”

“I don’t know why you’re so formal. You’re not in trouble. You’ve had your review and are the only one I trust with anything here. If I hated you, you’d be training the rookies.”

I stifled a laugh, thinking back to the one who had approached my office. Fuck that.

“Relax. I think I could use your help for a personal favor.”

Chief Matthews was all about facts. He produced stats but was kind of dumb in the field. “Oh.”

“But it depends entirely on your answer.” I tensed, trying to read the man’s expression. He seemed calm, reserved even, but there was an uneasiness to his voice. “I’ve heard some reports that my son—Killian, you’ve met him—has been seen at your house a few times over the past week.” My face twitched. “No, Merchant, I’m not watching you. Killian is a grown man, but I fear he might turn out like his mother.”

“His mother?” I had heard Killian’s side, but I was hoping that Chief Matthews could shed more light on the situation. I wanted to know if the man sitting on the other side of the desk was as much of a fucktwit as I thought he was.

“She was admitted to a mental institution a few years ago with a hereditary psychosis. I only want the best for my son. Which is why I’m wondering if you can tell me why he was at your house.”

Chief Matthews scooted additional pictures my way. Grainy photos of Killian and that journalist, Thomas, on my steps, stared back at me. I sifted through a few of them, noticing that the last three or so were from this past weekend—when I all but carried a nearly catatonic Killian through my door. Was this a threat or a warning? My gaze stuck on the last one and I swallowed nervously because it wasn’t one I remembered.

Killian was standing on my front steps, seemingly confused if his head tilted to the side was anything to go by. His lips were pulled tight, his nose scrunched, and while I had no idea what he was doing, he was definitely staring at something. Something other than the camera man.

Chief Matthews cleared his throat, bringing me back to reality. I had no idea what this man wanted, but telling the chief that I was fucking his son or was trying to do it again didn’t seem to be an option. So I told the truth. Or a half-truth. Chief Matthews would have done his research. He would know why Killian was at my house. He just wanted to hear my answer. “He was interested in criminal journalism, and he’s… tapped into some dangerous research.”

The concern in the man’s eyes told me that my first presumption was wrong. Not only had Chief Matthews not done his research, but he hadn’t been watching Killian. He had been watching me. “Is he in danger?”

Killian’s father was feeling wildly out of control. I tried to swallow the desire to beat the man sitting in front of me. He was every bit the fucktwit that had broken Killian’s mother’s heart. He was the man who didn’t care about his son. He was the man who was trying to ask for a personal favor—not because he wanted to protect his son, but because he needed something done and thought he could drag out my obedience by dangling what I held dear.

Well… fuck him.

I straightened in my chair, trying to relax. “I couldn’t tell you. He wasn’t very forthcoming.”

“I would like you to keep an eye on him.” Chief Matthews was just full of surprises today, wasn’t he? He just smirked, folding his arms across his chest. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know you have a thing for my son. I’ve known for a little while, and I know how taboo it is to date my son. But I’ll turn a blind eye. Just this once.”

I raised an eyebrow. This man had an end game. I willed my anger to stay put. I needed this job. It was the only cover I could stomach, with some of my darker desires running rampant. But this man was trading this favor for my feelings?

“If you make him realize that his profession is a shit choice for a career, and it’s going to get him killed.”

I froze, searching Chief Matthews’ eyes for any explanation. This had nothing to do with his son’s career. I didn’t believe in coincidences and knew it had to do with something else entirely—most likely Jenny and David’s murders. Great.

“I don’t expect results immediately. But I expect results, Merchant.”

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