Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(3)

Denver didn’t answer.

The car came to a stop, and Sheriff Cobb jumped out. The sheriff was in his midtwenties with way-too-light blond hair and blue eyes colder than a glacier. Probably. Ryker hadn’t ever seen a glacier, but it was the coldest thing he could imagine.

The passenger door opened. “Dr. Daniels,” Ryker said, watching the woman carefully, his sides cramping. The urge to run away was overwhelming, but he kept his body visually relaxed. “Here for more tests, ma’am?” He’d been impolite to her once by refusing to take one more damn written test after a long day, and the sheriff had made sure he couldn’t walk for about a week without puking up blood. Ned Cobb had watched the beat down with a smile on his face, interjecting only once to remind his brother not to break anything because medical doctors kept records.

The woman stepped out, her fancy designer dress looking as out of place in the dismal home’s terrain as a wild peacock would. She smoothed her long dark hair, and her bright red lips pursed. “Ryker. You’ve grown three inches, and it’s been only a few months.”

Her voice purred in a way that made him shuffle his feet. It was like she was seeing him differently somehow, and he didn’t understand his reaction, but he knew he didn’t like it.

Why was she always making Heath and him take written and physical tests? She paid no attention to the other kids at the home.

Then her gaze, a dark blue one, turned to Denver. “I’m here to welcome Denver to the boys home as well as study him a little. Denver, your file says you have a case of selective mutism.”

Ah shit. Another test subject? Why them? Ryker glanced at the kid, who’d sidled closer to him. The kid had good instincts to be wary of the calculating woman. “What’s that?” Ryker asked.

“He doesn’t talk,” Heath whispered.

Ryker bit his tongue. No shit. But they had to hide their brains around the lady who had them take so many tests. Why, he didn’t know. But his instincts were usually good, too.

“I can make him talk,” Sheriff Cobb said, striding around the car and flexing his chest muscles.

Denver swallowed audibly.

“Oh, Elton, that won’t be necessary,” Sylvia Daniels said, clasping her hands together. “I’m sure I can get Denver to speak. Right, boy?”

Ryker eyed the gun at the sheriff’s hip.

Sheriff Cobb’s lips peeled back. “Try it, kid. Please.”

Ryker didn’t answer, but he met the cop’s stare evenly. Cobb was just another bully in a world full of them, and someday they were gonna meet on even ground.

When that day came, only one of them would walk away.

Ryker glanced at Heath and then at Denver. His chest heated and cooled. The only way they’d survive this was if he remained calm and used his head, never letting his temper take over. When he stopped thinking, he was as bad as the sheriff, and now with Heath and Denver counting on him, he had more to lose than Sheriff Cobb did. That had to count for something, right?





CHAPTER


1


Present day

Zara Remington brushed a stray tendril of her thick hair back from her face before checking on the lasagna. The cheese bubbled up through the noodles while the scent of the garlic bread in the oven warmer filled the country-style kitchen. Perfect. She shut the oven door and glanced at the clock. Five minutes.

He’d be there in five minutes.

It had been weeks since she’d seen him, and her body was ready and primed for a tussle. Just a tussle. Shaking herself, she repeated the mantra she’d coined since meeting him two months ago: Temporary. They were temporary and just for fun. This was her reward for working so hard: a walk on the wild side. Even if she was the type to settle down and devote herself to one man, it wouldn’t be this one.

Ryker Jones kept one foot out the door, even while naked in her bed doing things to her that were illegal in the Southern states. Good damn thing she lived in Cisco. Wyoming didn’t care what folks did behind closed doors. Thank God.

She hummed and eyed the red high heels waiting by the entry to the living room. They probably wouldn’t last on her feet for long, but she’d greet him wearing them. While she still wore the black pencil skirt and gray silk shirt she’d donned for work, upon reading his text that he was back in town, she’d rushed to change into a scarlet bra and G-string set that matched the shoes before putting her clothes back into place.

If she was living out a fantasy, he should get one, too. The guy didn’t have to know she’d worn granny-style Spanx panties and a thin cotton bra all day.

A roar of motorcycle pipes echoed down her quiet street. Tingles exploded in her abdomen. Hurrying for the shoes, she bit back a wince upon slipping her feet in. The little kitten heels she’d worn to work had been much more comfortable.

A minute passed and the pipes silenced.

She drew air in through her nose, counted to five, and exhaled. Calm down. Geez. She really needed to relax. The sharp rap on her front door sent her system into overdrive again.

Straightening her shoulders, she tried to balance in the heels as she passed her comfortable sofa set, the shoes clicking on the polished hardwood floor. She had to wipe her hands down her skirt before twisting the nob and opening the door. “Ryker,” she breathed.

He didn’t smile. Instead, his bluish green eyes darkened as his gaze raked her from head to toe . . .and back up. “I’ve missed you.” The low rumble of his voice, just as dangerous as the motorcycle pipes, licked right where his gaze had been.