The ryan chronicles seri.., p.2
The Ryan Chronicles Series, page 2
I snarled and clenched my teeth, letting the fury snake through my body, poisoning my blood until my skin burned. “You’re fucking kidding me. You’re protecting that shithead?”
Sandy knew exactly what I was capable of and her fear blanketed me, stopping me from letting lose. Tears filled her eyes and she finally slid off him, taking the space next to him on the mattress. She pulled the sheet over her exposed flesh and nodded. “His name is Josh,” she said, like that made all the difference in the world.
“You don’t need to protect me,” Josh said and started to sit up.
I twitched, shooting a concentrated blast in his direction. Josh slammed back on the mattress with an audible ‘oof’. His hands flew to his throat clawing at my invisible strangle hold. The fear in his eyes sparked a smile and I suddenly understood the rush my father always spoke about. He was right. There’s nothing quite like scaring the shit out of someone.
“Chris, stop,” Sandy yelled breaking through my concentration.
I let go and Josh gasped for air, his features now holding the same layers of fear as Sandy’s.
“What the hell are you?” Josh whispered.
“I’m your worst fucking nightmare,” I said, borrowing my father’s favorite warning, and then shifted my gaze to Sandy. “Why?” I asked because I couldn’t figure out what this chump had that I didn't.
“I didn’t plan on this,” she said, wrapping the sheet tighter. “It just happened.”
“Do you have any clue how many girls I’ve fought off over the years?” I started and stopped, shifting my stance and glaring at the floor. “How many times I said no because of you?” I finished and met her teary stare.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please, what?” I snapped. “Don’t kill him? Don’t make a scene? What?”
“I should have told you,” she said.
“Damned right." I crossed my arms again. When she made no attempt to explain further, I pressed my lips together against every callous response. When I was certain I wouldn’t dig into her and had a solid grip on the need to strike out, I pointed an accusing finger in Josh’s direction. “That’s what you want?”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said in an almost inaudible voice.
Disbelief swept through me, after all, I was CJ Ryan, heir to billions, a fucking Mensa-level genius, and I harbored enough psychic power to destroy the universe. I could offer her the world.
What the hell could he offer her?
The truth almost knocked the wind out of me. Josh could help patch up the rift Sandy had with her father. But knowing the one thing Josh brought to the equation that I couldn’t didn’t erase the pain.
“Really? After all these years? This is how it ends?”
She looked at the floor and then back. “Yes.”
“Fuck you,” I snarled and leveled a deadly glare. It took everything I had to turn and walk out of her room without unleashing hell. A door opened when I was halfway down the hall.
“Chris?”
Her voice stopped me but I refused to turn, not with her thoughts parading through my mind.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This isn’t the way...” she trailed off and every muscle in my body stiffened.
I didn’t need to ask the questions a normal man would ask. I got everything I needed to know from Josh’s thoughts and now Sandy’s weren’t hidden anymore, either.
“I know you can see,” she whispered and I glanced over my shoulder.
I could see everything that led up to this moment. Everything. The conflict, the fucking love she felt for that deadbeat. Everything.
And everything crushed my heart to a pulp.
“You’d better shut your mind off, because if I get any more of your insane narrative, I’m going to make this entire building implode,” I said, and I meant it. I needed to get away, now, before I lost control of the raging beast.
I didn’t wait; the minute I hit the stairs I was in full flight mode and the cold air slapped my face a few moments later. I leaned against the cool bricks, counting breaths until my gaze fell on the student parking lot... and her car.
The car I bought her and the anger leaped out before I could stop it.
The explosion echoed off the buildings and I blinked at the damage. Her car was in pieces, burnt metal littered the ground, and the cars surrounding hers were now in flames. It felt good to destroy and I exhaled, letting out a laugh, thankful that the loss of control only annihilated a car and not the entire university campus. I forced my feet to move forward toward the adjoining visitor’s lot.
My car couldn’t outrun the onslaught of fury. It couldn’t perform fast enough, not through the side streets of Hartford and certainly not on the highway. When lights and sirens appeared in my rearview mirror, I growled under my breath and considered doing the same kind of damage I did back at Sandy’s dorm. The only thing that stopped me was the damned moral compass my mother instilled in me. I have the same high regard for life that she had, and Steve, being a federal agent, just ingrained it further into me. It’s the one thing that separated me from my father and despite the disdain careening through me, I slowed my car, pulling over in the emergency lane and dropped the gears into neutral, setting the parking break before running my hands through my hair.
I knew just how deep in shit I was.
The cop took his time, radioing in the license plate before he finally approached the driver’s side door.
I glanced out the window, meeting the officer’s questioning gaze.
“Do you know how fast you were going?”
I knew. The needle was buried beyond the 120 mark and I considered saying no, but I nodded instead. My jaw ached from being clenched, and I kept my lips closed against the flurry of sarcastic responses that begged to leap forth.
His features hardened. “Please step out of the car,” he said and straightened, stepping away from the door with his hand on the butt of his gun.
“I haven’t been drinking,” I said, sending a glare out the window.
“Please step out of the car.”
“Fine,” I muttered and stepped out.
“Please put your hands on the car,” the officer said, his tone now stony.
I had been hauled into police stations more than once and knew the routine, but this time, I was silent, unlike the times in Maine and New Hampshire when I was younger and rebelling against the world with Tom.
After the officer patted me down, he stepped back, assessing me. “Please step to the back of the car,” he said after a few minutes of silence.
I stepped to the back and waited for the sobriety test instructions. Walk in a straight line, touch your nose, and stand on one foot. I did everything the officer instructed until the officer crossed his arms.
“Where’s the fire?” he finally asked.
A tractor-trailer zoomed by, creating a breeze that ruffled through my hair and I met the officer’s stare. “Ever catch your girlfriend in bed with another guy?” I asked and the cop’s eyebrows rose. “I guess I let it get the better of me.”
The officer rubbed his chin and chuckled. “That’s an understatement, son. I’m supposed to haul your ass in for the speed you were going.”
I leaned against the car and shrugged. “Do what you gotta do."
I really didn’t care. With what had transpired in the last forty-eight hours, a little jaunt in jail wasn’t the worst thing in the world and I almost laughed at the irony.
The officer studied me closer, his eyes narrowing as a new thought dawned, and I rolled my eyes.
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” I said before the officer’s thought fully formed. “I’m angry, and I took it out on the road. If you have to arrest me, go ahead. I won’t give you any shit.”
The officer pressed his lips together; his internal debate broadcasting to me as if he was talking aloud. I waited, trying not to show my impatience or irritation at the pity blooming in the officer.
I knew his decision before he opened his mouth and my muscles relaxed.
“I’m going to give you a break,” he said. “But you have to give me your word that you won’t tear out of here like a bat out of hell.”
I allowed a smile to form and bit down on the first snide remark that entered my mind. Instead, I nodded and said, “Thanks."
“I’ve been there,” the cop added and snapped the ticket book closed. “Just keep it reasonable.”
I turned and climbed into the driver’s seat, squashing the urge to spin gravel at the squad car. The officer gave me a pass instead of doing his job, which was rare, and judiciousness won out. I started the ignition and pulled onto the road, bottling up the anger.
Angel Grace Chapter 3
The house was quiet when I walked in, the drone of the television filtered from the back room and I slapped a lock on my thoughts, guarding them against Steve’s unfiltered mind probe. He looked up when I stepped into the family room and his brow scrunched, but I just kept walking, right out into the backyard, crossing through the bloody grass where Damian had annihilated a group of hellhounds, to the rock wall at the far end of the lawn.
I stood, staring out at the churning Atlantic, my jaw clenching and unclenching in concert with my hands. The anger overwhelmed me and my eyes darted for a source to aim at. Nothing suitable for destroying entered my field of vision and I let out a guttural roar, slamming my fist down on the flat slate rock.
Pain snaked up my arm and I straightened, pulling my fist to my chest, blinking back the sudden mist covering my eyes. The agony of splintered bones tempered the fury and my chin dropped to my chest.
A hand descended on my shoulder and I turned, expecting to see Steve, but instead Jennifer stood at my side. Her green eyes were soft with concern, enough so that when she pulled me into a hug, I allowed it.
“Sandy called?”
“She was worried,” Jennifer whispered in my ear.
“I blew her car up,” I said and lay my forehead on Jennifer’s shoulder. The admission opened up the wall I’d built around the pain, and it nearly bowed me over. I was so consumed with anger that the reality of losing Sandy hadn't registered until now. Tears started and she just held me, stroking my back and whispering ‘shh’ as I cried.
I shifted, knocking my hand against her and winced before pulling away. “I think I broke my hand,” I whispered and she dropped her gaze to the swollen appendage before giving me a nod.
“I’d venture to guess you did, too,” she said.
I wiped the sleeve of my jacket across my face, mopping up the damp tears before I sniffled and glanced out at the ocean.
“Steve will fix it when you’re ready to come in.” She gave my shoulder a soft pat and stepped toward the house.
“Jenn?”
She turned, meeting my gaze.
“Did she say why?”
“No, honey. She just said you two broke up and she was worried about you.”
“Broke up. That’s what she’s calling it.” I laughed and shook my head, turning toward the water. “It feels more like she put a butcher knife in my chest.”
“CJ,” Jennifer started and I glanced over my shoulder.
“I walked in on her fucking another guy.”
Jennifer took a step back, her jaw dropped open before she recovered and stepped closer.
“Yeah, that’s the same look I think I wore when I first saw them,” I said and turned back to the ocean. “It felt good to let the power rip. I’m sure some of the cars are probably still burning.”
“Did you...”
“No, I didn’t hurt anyone,” I cut her off. “I wanted to, but I didn’t.”
Her hand squeezed my shoulder and I detested the fact that her show of compassion brought forth more tears. I squeezed my injured hand, welcoming the sharp pain instead of the ballooning agony in the center of my soul.
“Come on, let’s have Steve take a look at that,” she said and I let her lead me back into the house.
Steve’s gaze dropped to my hand. “Looks like the slate won,” he said.
His response surprised me and I snorted. “Better my hand than the entire East Coast.”
“True.” Steve approached me.
I wasn’t sure I wanted Steve to fix the broken bones with his miracle healing power. “Maybe I should just go to the hospital.” I flexed my hand again, wincing. The pain dulled everything and I rather liked the diversion.
“Excuse me?” Steve said, stopping short.
I met his gaze but didn’t say a word. Instead, I just curled my fist and clamped my jaw tight, sending a smile in Steve’s direction.
The silent showdown was broken by the ring of the doorbell. Jennifer traded a glance with Steve before she headed out of the room to answer the door.
Steve reached for my hand and I stepped back, knocking his hand out of range. Footfalls echoed through the house pulling our attention to the doorway and Damian Andreas stepped into view.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to grab our stuff from upstairs.” Damian hesitated, trading a glance with me. His gaze dropped to my hand and his eyebrows shot up in an amusing arch. “Assuming it’s still here,” he added snapping his gaze to Steve.
“The feds left your stuff alone. It’s still in the bedroom.”
Damian started across the room and slowed to a stop before he got to the stairs. “I’m sorry about your father,” he said with his gaze still locked on the floor.
Damian’s remorse drifted over me, his sense of loss for not only his relatives but for mine as well, made my voice stick in my throat. Instead of responding, I squeezed my fist tighter, sucking air through my teeth.
Damian’s gaze shot from the floor to me. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, echoing Steve’s exact thoughts.
“My girlfriend broke up with me today.”
“So, you thought smashing the bones in your hand would somehow make the heartache go away?” Damian asked, filling in the blanks accurately, like he had a special line directly into my mind.
“Get out of my head,” I muttered, glaring at Damian.
"I'm not in your head." Damian said. "Besides, it doesn't work for long," he added pointing his chin toward my hand before disappearing up the stairs.
“What do you know,” I whispered under my breath.
“A lot more than you.” The answer drifted down to me from upstairs.
Steve crossed to the window, pulling the curtain back. When he turned, irritation was written in the lines on his face and he pressed his lips together, waiting for Damian to return.
“You stole a car?” he snapped when Damian stepped into the family room.
Damian shrugged as if it’s no big deal. “I couldn’t exactly rent or buy without ID.” He held up his wallet before tucking it into his pocket. “I’m going to return it,” he mumbled and shifted, dropping his gaze.
“There was a car in the garage at the cottage.”
“I know. The battery was dead and it’s too small for three car seats. Before Naomi and the kids can leave the hospital, I need a vehicle that will be big enough. I already found what I want, but I didn’t have my ID or bank cards on me, so I was shit out of luck.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Damian’s justifications seemed valid, but that little tick over Steve’s left eye engaged, and I knew he was pissed.
“You ever hear of a phone?”
Damian glanced at me for help, and I raised my hands, giving him the ‘you made this bed yourself’ look and he pressed his lips in a thin line, focusing back at Steve.
“I didn’t want to inconvenience you anymore than I already had,” he finally said and started for the door.
“CJ, why don’t you go with him and make sure he gets that car back to where it belongs,” Steve said and turned towards me. He used my shock as his opening and closed the distance before my brain restarted, but it was too late, he planted a quick kiss on my temple and the healing vibe slid from the point of impact, down my arm and into my hand in a progression of pins and needles I was helpless to stop.
“Damn it,” I muttered and sent a glare his way as a crushing pain surrounded my hand. That’s the thing about his healing power, it always hurts like a motherfucker.
He grinned and shrugged, waving me toward the door. Sometimes I hated the man.
“I wasn’t put here to make your life easy,” he said to my internal commentary.
I bit down on the automatic ‘Fuck you’ his comment elicited, but his smirk told me he heard it anyway.
“Go keep Damian from getting into any more trouble, will you?” He pointed to the door.
“I don’t...” Damian started and Steve sent a glare in his direction, silencing him, but I heard the unspoken ‘need a babysitter’ in his mind.
A layer of irritation surfaced and I knew exactly what Steve was doing. It wasn’t Damian that needed babysitting. It was me.
“Damned straight,” Steve said. “You need a diversion,” he added, his gaze dropping to my hand and back to my eyes, using my own thoughts against me. “I figure helping our new friend find a car and a place to live might occupy your mind for a little while.”
From the look on Damian’s face, he was about as happy as I was about this, but to his credit, he kept his mouth shut.
Angel Grace Chapter 4
Route 4 was quiet at this time of the night and I stared at the houses as we passed by. Damian was trying to figure out how the hell he and Naomi were going to deal with triplets. Just the ordeal at the hospital was harrowing for him, but the thought of succumbing to a family car brought forth a “humph.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. An ancient vampire reduced to a mini-van. It was laughable, and he sent a glare in my direction.
“What happened,” Damian asked, turning the tables on me.
“I walked in on her fucking someone else.”
Damian had the decency to sigh. “That’s rough.”
“Yeah, fifteen years out the window like that.” I snapped my fingers.
