Page 118 of Ryder

“I get that,” I say. “But?—”

“No buts, just listen for once. I know how headstrong you are, and I’m warnin’ you right now, Ryder won’t be happy if you can’t listen to simple instructions.”

“But Pipes is here, and my sister. We’ll be there before anyone else?—”

“Do you really wanna put Casey in danger, too?”

“Of course not.”

“We’ve dealt with shit like this before, we’re no stranger to it. You’re too emotionally involved, and that’s when accidents happen.”

I know he’s right, but my instinct is to go after them and fight. This is my family. The two people I care about most in the world.

“Crystal?” Cash’s voice awakens me from my reverie. “Are you understandin’ me?”

“Yes,” I say. “I’ve got it.”

“Good. I’ll be on the road, so keep in touch with Jett for any updates.”

“Got it.”

He hangs up.

“Well, he’s a party pooper,” Casey says from the backseat. “Like, seriously.”

“He means what he says,” Pipes warns. “So no matter what the two of you have cookin’ up in your heads, think again. This is dangerous. If anythin’ happens to either one of you, it’s on my head.”

“I’m not doing anything,” I protest. “I’m not a complete idiot. Someone has my husband, and my son. I’m not going to go rogue, but I am going to protect myself, and Casey.”

“Yeah, about that,” Pipes says. “Cash said to stay inside the vehicle. We’ve got the whole MC chasin’ Ryder’s truck. Don’t wanna be caught in the crossfire. So, I’ll be needin’ that gun.”

“I’m not stupid,” I huff. “And you’re not taking my gun.”

Pipe’s hands tighten on the wheel. “Maddenin’ woman,” he mutters.

“The MC has a point,” Casey interrupts. “There are a shit ton of members, and only two of us. We’re both emotionally connected. I’m not saying we’re completely useless, but we always talk about chicks in movies and books who don’t listen, and then get their asses shot.”

“I take it you’re the rational sister?” Pipes turns his head to the rearview mirror.

From my peripheral, Casey flips him the bird.

“I’ve never fired a gun, but I’m always willing to test out target practice,” she throws back.

Pipes pouts and makes anoohnoise as he shakes his hand. “Feisty. You know what,pumpkin?I’ve got a shootin’ range about to open. You can practice all you like.”

“I meant onyou. You’re the target.”

“Me?” He sounds incredulous. “What did I do?”

Yes, that’s a very good question. One I have no interest in right now while my son and husband are under siege. “Will you two just quit it for half a second, please?” I press my temples. “I’m trying to think.”

“You don’t need to think about anythin’. Just keep your eyes on that GPS and we’ll figure the rest out as we go,” Pipes reassures me.

I don’t know how he can be so calm. Then again, he’s always been good in a crisis.

My entire life is in that fucking truck.

I turn to look out the window. I feel hysterical; angry one minute, crying the next. A million things go through my mind: Is this a random act? Or is it something more sinister? And if so, who and why? We have no enemies. I haven’t pissed anyone off lately, enough to cause my family to be a target anyway. Neither has Ryder.

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