"I'm here," I said, my voice carrying in the quiet night. "Now what?"
Ryder didn’t move immediately; he didn't pace or throw his hands up in a fit of temper.
Instead, he leaned back against the hood of his SUV, crossing his arms loosely over his chest.
He was trying hard to project that same untouchable, arrogant composure he always wore around the arena, but the harsh yellow streetlamp wasn't doing him any favours. It caught the dark bruise flowering along his jawline and the bone-deep exhaustion pulling at the corners of his eyes.
"Now," Ryder said, his voice sounding like a low, steady rumble in the cold air, "you tell me how to fix it."
I stared at him as my breath puffed out in small white clouds, struck by the audacity of this guy. Just days ago, he had cornered me, blackmaile
