Page 34 of Comforted By The Mountain Man
We eventually have no other choice but to drive back to Asher’s and regroup. The less information we find on Ryder’s disappearance, the more I’m believing there’s only one explanation.
How could I have been so stupid? I ignored the feeling I had weeks ago of someone watching me. I knew what I felt. Then Asher and I fell into our bubble and I forgot. Like an idiot, I fucking forgot. And now, my son is in danger and it’s my fault.
I kick a dining room chair, hyperventilating as anger blinds me.
“Whoa, whoa,” Asher calls, running to me. “Sierra,” he tries reaching out but I back up, bumping into the couch.
“No,” I shake my head. “This is my fault. I knew they were watching. I knew they wouldn’t leave us alone. I’m so stupid. I let myself fall for this false reality,” I wave my hand between us. “I should’ve been vigilant. I never should have let him out of my sight.”
Asher rushes to hold me. Like a wounded animal, I fight against his hold, crying.
“Listen to me. Listen to me, Brown Eyes,” he firmly whispers against my forehead. “You are not stupid,” he reprimands lovingly. “Being happy is not wrong. Ryder, living in that bubble, as you call it, has given him peace, laughter. And I promise you.” He pulls back when the fight leaves my body and I just melt into him, sobbing.
He brings his face close to mine. “If they took our boy, I will raise hell, bring him home, and make them pay.”
“You don’t understand how bad these men are,” I whisper, my tears staining his shirt.
“Who are they?” Grayson steps up, asking.
Forgetting we have an audience, I pull myself together, wiping my face. Asher keeps me close as I confess. I have to. Ryder’s life depends on it.
“Ryder’s biological father is—was—part of an MC in Southern California. He was stealing. Then he died. Someone called me, telling me to get out. Oscar left instructions and a deed for the cabin at the Fletchers’ old place.”
Cliffnotes, but enough for them to understand.
“I didn’t think they’d know how to find us,” I whisper.
All the Hunter men surround us in the living room. Even Grace is here, pacing the kitchen. She opens drawers looking for something, then pauses.
“Sierra?” she asks, lifting a piece of my old phone. “Is this the old phone we talked about?”
“Oh god,” I cry, remembering.
Running into the kitchen, she hands me the phone she has already put back together with the battery. I take it and power it up.
The men are speaking in hushed tones. Serious. No nonsense. Asher’s strained eyes watch me as I hear countless notifications chime to life. Missed calls, voicemails, and texts.
I hit play on one of the last voicemails from yesterday.
“Alright, puta. We gave you a chance. Did you really think we wouldn’t trace Oscar’s last dealings and find you? You were always dense. Only good for one thing. But Oscar was too much of a pussy to force you to do your duty.” I tremble, recognizing Sulfer’s slimy voice.
“No matter how this ends, I’m ripping that cunt open until you bleed,” he chuckles before hanging up.
My hand drops the phone. West rushes to catch it as Asher pulls my head into his chest. His body radiates fury. Fear shatters any control I have on mine. I can’t stop shaking. My teeth chatter, picturing what they’re doing to my baby boy.
I hear multiple questions peppered by the brothers.
“Where do you think they are?”
“Do you remember how to get to their clubhouse?”
“Do you know what they want?”
I can’t speak.
Nash, who now has the old phone, informs us of what they want. “You know information about Oscar’s last supplier, he used club money to pay. They want the contact.”
“Why do they think you know that?” Ezra asks.
