My cell phone buzzes in my hand as I sit on my bed, freshly showered and dressed. Ryker messaged me last night to say that he would pick me up at nine o’clock this morning, and the text that has just come through at one minute to nine tells me that he’s outside.
Pushing up from the bed, I head downstairs quietly, mum is still in bed, most likely recovering from her baking extravaganza and then hours at the fundraiser.
I tug on my boots beside the door before grabbing my coat from the peg and open the front door, stepping outside into the crisp morning air. Ryker’s truck is parked across the end of our driveway, the tall, brooding man watching me as I lock the door and pull on my coat before hurrying down the steps and down the side of my mother’s car. I round the hood of the truck, openi
