Page 59 of Ryder's War

Deep in thought, her mind drifted through the long line of hurts Stuart had put on her while they were married. Never once had she managed to get her head and body on the same page to mount a unified defense. Fear had trained her body to freeze, her mind to fragment. But watching Ryder face down threats had awakened something dormant inside her - the realization that prey could become predator when pushed far enough.

She begged and pleaded with him, like a hapless little victim, freezing up whenit came time to act. What she’d give to have all those lost moments back again. Her head filled with dark thoughts—thoughts best left unspoken.

Sliding from her dark internal musings back into the present, Tiffany put the vehicle in drive. Having spent most of her adult life homeless or nearly so, she could easily write a book on the subject. The first rule of being homeless was to never look homeless.

Stopping by a local discount department store, she picked up few nondescript changes of clothing, including yoga pants, T-shirts, sneakers, and a gym bag. Heading to the fitness center, she was grateful that her father had clued her in about staying fit and using the gym as a place to shower. Personal hygiene was an area most people didn’t tolerate another person neglecting.

In any event, Tiffany had picked up a hair coloring kit and decided to dye her hair jet black. Going from brunette to black shouldn’t prove to be too shocking a change when she looked in the mirror. The gym had private showers, so dying shouldn’t draw much attention either, as long as she was careful to clean up well afterward.

After a light workout, shower, and putting on some clean clothing, she was starting to feel like a million bucks. Climbing back in the driver’s seat, something clicked in her head.

Staring straight ahead, she started the car and slid the gear soundlessly into place. The road ahead stretched like an accusation. Years of running had carved grooves in her soul, worn paths that led nowhere. But as she pointed her SUV toward home, Tiffany felt something unfamiliar taking root—not the familiar ice of fear, but the steady burn of resolve.

She was done being haunted. This time, she'd be the one bringing nightmares.

~ Ryder ~

Disbelief twisted Ryder's features as he stared at his father. “She sent him a what?” The words hung in the air, ridiculous against the gravity of their situation.

“A cease and desist request written in crayons on a gigantic sheet of paper.”

Trying his best to wrap his mind around what his father was saying, Ryder mumbled mindlessly, “Crayons? I came all the way here because you said she was in danger, and now you are telling me she’s sending him gigantic notes written in crayons.”

“I shit you not, son. It was written in several shades of purple. I don’t know what that was all about, but the dude freaked the fuck out, right there standing in the street. A messenger cycled right up and handed him a tube. He signed for it and opened it up real eager like. I could read it from twenty paces away.”

“I think between him and us, we’ve pushed her right over the edge,” Ryder commented.

“Maybe, but he was hot under the collar. He took it to the police, and they pretty much told him to fuck right off. Since it was little more than a note asking him to stop trying to contact her, they couldn’t do a thing.”

Ryder’s brows furrowed. “It seems really weird to me. You’re sure her mom hasn’t seen her?”

“Like I told you on the phone, son, my gut tells me she’s here, but none of us has seen her. We’ve had her mother’s home staked out since we arrived. She even brings Hickory out baked goods and coffee. Trust me, if she had anything to hide, we would definitely know about it.”

Pacing back and forth in the spacious hotel room, Ryder obsessed about where his old lady could be. “What in God’s name possessed her to come here? The dude’s a total nutjob. She’s not safe here.”

“Maybe she got tired of running and figures her only shot at having a life with you is seeing this through,” his dad offered.

“I hope the fuck not,” Ryder said through clenched teeth. “Being with me is not worth facing off with a lunatic.”

“I’m not sure what she’s doing, but the man’s been looking progressively more fucked-up over the last week or so.”

“It’s all fun and games until someone gets poked in the eye.” Ryder realized he was screeching, but he didn’t give a good goddamn.

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.”

---