Chapter 18
Xena’s POV
I suddenly felt uncomfortable, though I maintained my cool exterior. “Yeah, the brake pads and those parts on the tool rack. Could you grab them for me?”
Ryder nodded and walked toward the cabinet. I couldn’t help but stare at his solid frame, the muscles in his arms flexing unconsciously as he picked up the items. My heart rate quickened despite my best efforts.
“Don’t you think standing like that is inconvenient?” Ryder suddenly paused, turning back with a challenging smile playing at his features. His gaze traveled from my injured leg up to my composed expression, as if waiting for my reaction.
I frowned slightly, uncomfortable with being the object of anyone’s concern, but managed
a reluctant smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”
Instead of continuing his task, Ryder turned and approached me, standing uncomfortably close. “You’re strong, but you don’t always need to carry everything alone.” His tone was gentle but carried an unmistakable suggestion that made my skin tingle.
My heart hammered in my chest, but I fought to keep my composure. I cleared my throat and replied flatly, “Just grab the stuff, that’s all.”
Ryder’s eyes flickered, and he let out a soft chuckle before continuing to gather the tools I
needed.
“I’ve got two clients scheduled for tonight. Put those on the tool cart, brake pads on the second shelf, and the chain and sprocket at the top,” I instructed. Watching him complete
these tasks, I walked to the counter. With fifteen minutes before my first appointment, I
pulled out my sketchbook and continued working on my phoenix design. Drawing always
calmed me, as if all my pain could flow away through the tip of my pencil.
Ryder came over, looking at my phoenix sketch. “That looks incredible.”
“Thanks,” I replied briefly.
I suddenly remembered I needed to send the spelling bee word list. I quickly sent the link with my selected words, wondering why I still involved myself in school activities while
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knowing it was my only way to maintain “normalcy” and belong somewhere.
He picked up my sketchbook and began flipping through it.
The entire evening dragged on with Ryder quietly watching me as I worked. My injury made routine tasks exceedingly difficult. What normally took an hour now required two, and customers had to return another day to complete their orders. I inwardly sighed. Damn! That bitch!
Ryder looked bored in the corner of the room. He spent most of his time either watching me work or texting. Part of me wanted to know who he was texting, but I reminded myself it wasn’t my business. I shouldn’t develop any curiosity about Ryder; it would only complicate things.
After the last customer left, I walked to the door and flipped the sign to show CLOSED. The feeling of closing up shop was satisfying. Finally, after a busy day, all I wanted was to collapse into bed.
“All done?” Ryder asked as he watched me put on gloves to start cleaning.
“Yeah, just need to clean up and check the books.” I tossed sharp objects into their special
container and waste into the trash bin. A few chains that should have gone back to the
cabinet remained on the tool cart. Ryder just watched me work.
“Does Luna Martha hit you?” Ryder asked abruptly.
My entire body froze. Damn. He probably already knew the answer but wanted to hear me say it. I felt my throat tighten, anger and shame washing over me simultaneously. Why
would he ask that?
“Doesn’t matter. I won’t be around much longer anyway,” I tried to make my voice sound
indifferent.
“What does that mean?” Concern colored Ryder’s tone.
“Once I turn eighteen, I’m leaving. Traveling around until Logan takes over the pack. Then I’ll come back.” Voicing my plan gave me a strange sense of relief, as if saying it aloud made the dream more tangible.
“Why doesn’t Logan stop her, or your father?”
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“Logan does more for me than anyone. He’s always there, helping as much as he can. But
he can’t be with me 24/7, and I can handle a few bruises or a split lip just fine.” I sighed, sitting down to finish the bookkeeping. Ryder approached, standing at my desk.
“Where will you go?”
I glanced up at him, surprised by his interest. “Anywhere. Everywhere. Just not here.”
“And what about this business?”
“I guess I’ll have to put it on hold for a while.” Saying those words hurt–motorcycles were my only passion, the only thing that made me feel free.
“What about your mate?”
“You sure ask a lot of questions,” I muttered, growing tired of the interrogation.
“Just curious,” Ryder replied softly.
“Well, when I find him, I’ll ask for his opinion,” I answered, unexpectedly imagining Ryder might be that person. The thought startled me, and I quickly pushed it away.
A knock at the door!
Looking up, I saw Logan standing there. Ryder walked over to open it.
“Ryder,” Logan said as he entered.
“Logan.” There was no obvious power play, but the tension between them was almost
visible.
“What’s up, bro?” I asked.
“Just checking on you.” Logan walked over, looking at the work I was doing.
“Going well, it’ll be a good month,” I said, trying to ease the atmosphere.
“Good, that’ll make things easier for you.”
“Easier for her?” Ryder asked, confused.
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“For my travel preparations. If I get cut off financially, I have my own money to live on.” I placed the completed ledger in the drawer, locking it with a key.
“You’re okay with her leaving?” Ryder asked Logan.
“Of course not, but I also don’t want X to keep being abused, Logan replied, his voice tight with a mixture of anger and resignation.
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