Page 46 of Ryder's War

Everyone chatted and ate. It was surreal, sitting here with bikers and teenagers eating homemade pizza, while her past crept closer with every dead bird and gingerbread taunt. But maybe that's what family really meant. People who stood between you and your demons, even if they were battling their own.

Halfway through dinner, Ryder jerked forward in his seat. “What the fuck is that?” Tiffany didn’t have to look to know he was pointing to the gingerbread dish.

Rose’s voice turned worried. “It came in the mail today. Am I in trouble for opening it?”

Tiffany stated quietly, “I was waiting until we were alone to talk to you about that.”

Rose reached for the dish.

“Don’t touch it, Rose.” Standing so fast his chair flipped back, Ryder stalked over to the box it came in and pushed the flap down with his nail. “No return address.”

At that moment, Tiffany wished the floor would open up and swallow her. She couldn’tmove or speak or think. Why did she always freeze up in situations like this?

Stuart had already found her again. This was an all-time record for him. She watched Ryder use a paper towel to carefully lift the dish back into the box and carry it out the door. God only knew where he was going or how long he’d be gone.

Rose, ever the studious observer of life, made a wild guess. “Is that to do with your ex?”

Nodding, Tiffany whispered, “You should go. Wherever I am is not a safe place for you to be anymore.”

“Fuck that.”

Tiffany’s head snapped up. Rose was not supposed to be cursing, and she knew it. Turning to her stunned friend, she asked quietly, “Ace, can you take Rose home?”

Ryder’s voice barked the doorway, “Ain’t none of us going anywhere. We’re going to sit right here, finish our meal, and wait for Cork and his team to have a proper look around. We know someone who can dust the dish for prints. Since it had no return address, it came from a person, not a company.”

Ace looked back and forth between his club brother and new friend. “How long has this been going on?”

Ryder swiveled his head around to look at her. “Tiffany, please answer the question.”

Rubbing her temple, she couldn’t manage to get rid of the pain throbbing there. “I didn’t understand that it was him until today.”

Shock and then realization dawned on his voice, and Ryder’s voice softened. “Looking back, what was the first thing that caught your notice?”

“The dead birds on our welcome mat probably should have given me more pause than it did,” she snarked, angry with herself for not seeing the clues sooner. Hearing the others gasp, Tiffany realized the full weight of her error in thinking. “When I was little, my cat used to bring me dead birds and mice as some kind of cat offering.”

Ace sounded relieved. “Cats do that.”

“That’s exactly what made me think it was a stray looking for a new owner,” she shared her reasoning. “Only, I never saw a cat at any point. Granted, I wasn’t actually looking for one either.”

Ryder asked quietly, “How many, Tiff?”

Looking down at the table, Tiffany couldn’t believe she’s been so stupid. “Five. I kicked them into the flower bed, thinking we’d deal with them in the spring.”

Ace spoke up, his voice laced with concern. “I can see how you would have thought that. I might not have put two and two together myself.”

“The cat I told you about? I brought it with me when I got married. Stuart hated his little offerings. He told me if it continued, he’d get rid of Rupert the Magnificent. One day I came home, and Stuart had…had…” She stopped talking, not trusting her voice.

“You don’t have to say it,” Ryder told her.

“I don’t know why I still get so emotional,” Tiffany said, running a hand through her hair. “It’s really stupid to be upset about something like that after all these years.”

Rose leaned over. “What does that have to do with the gingerbread boy dish?”

Ryder’s head fell forward. “It was a gingerbread girl. They run. Haven’t you heard the story? The first time Tiff ran, it was Christmas, and he used the rhyme to taunt her.”

Ace’s concern morphed into fury in a heartbeat. “Tell me the fucker’s name.”

Tiffany issued a quick warning. “He’s from old money. If you touch him, you’ll end up in jail.”

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