Chapter 15

*****Be advised: This chapter contains some sensitive material. Reader discretion is advised.*****

Ryder's Point-of-View

*****The day before*****

Sam wasn't happy about what I was going to do. I told her I had to take care of someone who hurt a lot of people. This included a friend of mine from college, Travis Langley.

Several years ago, his daughter, Cara Langley, was abducted from her front lawn. She had just celebrated her seventh birthday. Cara had disappeared for two weeks, without a trace.

The man I am after, Steven Blasphick, had raped and strangled her. He then disposed of her body in a ditch. A farmer had found the body and called the police.

Because of Blasphick's priors, rape, and assault, police knew who the suspect was. They had his fingerprints and DNA in the database. The only problem was that he had fled the country. No one knew his whereabouts until recently.

Trevor knew about the things I did and made me promise that if I ever found him, I was to kill him.

This is the first job I am happy to take on.

I had left before dawn to get to Boulder, Colorado.

A couple of days ago, I got wind that Blasphick was staying at Hotel Boulderado. I'm not even sure if he is still there. With everything happening at home, I just couldn't leave.

If Blasphick isn't here, I'll just track him down again. The prick is also using an alias. Geoffrey Bushman. If he left the hotel, I just have to follow the credit card trail.

I make it to Boulder in record time. Six hours. It's noon when I pull in front of Hotel Boulderado. I know the area rather well. Freddie loves vacationing in this area. He will sometimes drag me along.

The hotel looks ancient. The rooms and suites have a Victorian-era style. Not my type but nice, none the less.

I grab my metal suitcase from the trunk and walk across the street. I look at my watch. Check-in isn't until three, but I have no problem waiting around. If my target isn't in the room, then he will probably make his way to the lobby, eventually.

I walk up to the front desk and place my suitcase on the floor, taking out my wallet.

"Good afternoon, sir. May I have your name?" The redhead, bubbly front desk clerk says, smiling at me.

"Jack Smith," I say, handing her a credit card and looking around. I am looking for all the exits on the ground floor, just in case.

"Okay, Mr. Smith. I have you here in a king room, non-smoking, two nights?" She asks, looking up from her computer monitor.

I nod. "Question. My buddy, Geoffrey Bushman, is staying here. It's our reunion, and I want to call him and let him know I am here. The problem is, he lost his phone yesterday. Butterfingers!" I laugh as the front desk clerk swoons. "There's no way to communicate with him unless you call the room for me?"

Per hotel policy, workers are never to divulge the whereabouts of their guests. Whether they are staying at the hotel or already checked out, I figured that out a long time ago. However, if you ask the clerk to ring up the room for you, they will do it as long as you don't ask for the room number.

She smiles and looks down at the monitor. She grabs the phone and dials his room number.

1113.

"Wait! Look at that!" I say to her, flashing the back of my phone. "It's the devil himself! He must've gotten a new phone. Thanks for your help, sweetheart!"

She grins at me as she hangs up the phone. I pretend to take the call and ask Geoffrey for his room number. She hands me the keycards and wishes me a good day.

Once I'm in the elevator, I head up to my room.

219.

Once there, I remove my holster and guns from the suitcase. Taking out the cartridges, I examine them and lay them on the bed. When I finish, I put my suitcase under the bed.

Taking a seat at the desk, I pick up the room phone and dial Blasphick's room.

No one answers.

I put the holster on and place the extra cartridges on my belt. The black leather belt I am wearing is made specifically to hold bullet cartridges. Making sure to button my suit jacket, I walk out of my room and head for the lobby.

As I sat on the chair nearest to the front door, I realize I can't concentrate. I usually am focused and can sit for hours without moving, but not today.

I clear my throat and adjust my black ray bans. I look out of the window and see that the sun is shining very brightly on this day. It's actually beautiful. It's a warm welcome from all the rain and storms we've been having.

I begin to get annoyed. Why is the sun making me feel all warm and cozy? Samantha is always in my ear, telling me to stop and smell the roses, which is precisely what I have been doing. A quote I hate at the moment. I guess love makes a person weak. However, Sam is my weakness, and I am okay with that!

If I keep fidgeting around, my target will walk right by me, and I won't notice. I adjust my tie and jacket, exhale, and decide to move seats away from the hot sun. It doesn't help that I'm in all black also.

Once I'm sitting in the corner, I clear my thoughts and begin to stare at the front entrance.

An hour later, a couple walks in holding hands and laughing. The woman is dark-skinned, a little on the chunky side, with long curly hair. She is stunning. Her companion is a light-skinned man with red hair and tall. They are checking in and tell the clerk they are on their honeymoon.

I take my 'fire and ice' necklace out from underneath my suit and stare at it. My mind starts to float to the day Samantha and I were picking our color schemes for our wedding back in California:

"I don't know. I think I like this color."

Samantha holds up a royal blue napkin. She was looking so beautiful in a white blouse and a pink pencil skirt. She even wore the heels I bought her for our one year anniversary, about six months ago.

It was a pair of pink Louboutins that had been bedazzled with pink diamonds. LeAnn had helped me with it. She told me it's what Sam wanted. I cursed LeAnn out for days. What did I look like shopping for shoes and bedazzling them? I even hate that fucking word!

Bedazzled.

If I ever found out who came up with that name! It annoyed me just saying it.

Come to find out Sam loved them from afar. She didn't want them. Nonetheless, she adored them. I should've known better. My fiance isn't the flashy type.

I instantly calm down when Sam turned and smiled at me. She was wearing the hot pink lipstick I grew to love also, the one she had worn in Naples when I had her disguised.

Sam always had her wavy hair loose, but today she decided to slick it back. A style she got from LeAnn.

I watched with loving eyes as she pranced around the room, talking excitedly to the wedding planner.

Sam then grabbed a black napkin. I was sitting at a table, at the venue, where we will have our wedding reception. We had agreed to have the wedding in Beverly Hills, California.

She fought with me about it until I told her I wanted to meet all of her family and friends. No sense in having them fly to Utah or New Jersey when I have no family. She agreed.

The wedding planner had a box of napkins in her hands and followed Sam as she made her way to the table, where I was seated. Her mother, Rebecca, was standing beside me, fuming.

Rebecca's hands were on her hips, and she was tapping the floor with her foot. Very beside herself. Rebecca and Sam could pass as twins. Identically beautiful, but different personalities.

"So do you like the colors, baby? Black and blue? Well, it's four different shades of blue actually," Sam happily said as I looked at both my fiancé and soon to be mother-in-law puzzled. No way would I be able to please them both. I felt uncomfortable being in the middle of this. All I wanted to do was pay for the spectacle and run.

I was beginning to think eloping would've been a better idea. I somehow suspected that Rebecca would assassinate me if Sam and I did such a thing.

"You can't be serious, darling!" Rebecca snapped at me. She walked behind my chair and put her hand on my back. "It's okay to tell Samantha how disastrous those colors are!"

"Mom!" Sam's eyes opened wide as she threw the napkins back into the box and crossed her arms. She gave her mom the death stare. I fidgeted on my chair and pulled on my tie. It was starting to get somewhat hot in here.

Did I say how uncomfortable I was?

"Sweetheart, why those colors?! I don't understand you at all! Black and blue? Ghastly! Am I being punked? Where are the cameras? Are we about to attend a funeral?" She walked around, looking for the cameras. I tried not to laugh as she put her hand on her throat and pretended to dry heave.

"It'll be your funeral if you don't leave these kids alone." Tim, Sam's Dad, walked in, holding a flute of champagne. He looked at me and shook his head.

Rebecca looked at her husband, dumbstruck.

"The theme is Starry Night, Mrs. Hallowell!"

We all looked over at the over bubbly wedding planner as she put the box down. "Black is Ryder's favorite color, and blue is Samantha's. It's a beautiful set up actually! I promise you'll love it."

Hmm, I thought to myself. I was impressed Sam remembered my favorite color.

We all looked at Rebecca. If I had blinked, I wouldn't have missed the vein that protruded from her forehead.

"Oh, a beautiful setup, you say! What is your name?"

The wedding planner did not amuse Rebecca. She was beyond fuming. At this point, she wasn't even trying to hide her hatred for the poor girl who was only doing her job.

"It's K-Karen, Mrs. Hallowell." She gulped as she looked at Samantha.

"Oh, K-Karen? Tell you what? Why don't you take that black and blue napkin and shove-!"

"No, no!" Samantha stood in front of Karen while Rebecca bit her lip. "Karen, would you mind getting me a centerpiece so that I can show Ryder?" Sam wanted Karen away from her mother.

Karen nodded and walked off, confused. She had put a little pep in her step, which made me want to laugh.

Rebecca composed herself as she grabbed Tim's flute and swallowed the entire drink in one gulp. "I hate when Help forgets their place! Jesus! No one asked for her input!" She whispered rather loudly.

Tim and Sam crossed their arms and looked at Rebecca, expecting her to realize what she just said.

"No!" She shook her head and pointed the finger at them. "I am not the help!"

"Well, you certainly aren't the bride! If you were, I'd be the happiest divorceé!" Tim laughed as I put my head down, trying not to grin.

These people were crazy, but I enjoyed being around them.

Rebecca's bottom lip started to quiver. "Why do you guys always pick on little, young me? I'm just trying to live and do for my daughter. You even have Ryder training to be against me!" She cleared her throat and held her head high. "Tell me, in what universe is that fair?" She pointed at me as my brows furrowed. I was so confused.

They had teams now?

"Mom, again, this is about Ryder and me. I brought you along for moral support—a little. Not to make final decisions or be annoying! And for goodness sake, be nice to Karen! It's her job to help me! Stop being a brat! Show Ryder your true colors after the wedding!"

Rebecca rolled her eyes and grabbed her compact from her purse." Fine! I'll be nice," she said, examining Sam from head to toe." Only because your fashion taste has improved, and those shoes are divine! I want a pair for my birthday." Rebecca looked at me and winked.

Duly noted.

Just then, a servant came with more flutes of champagne. Tim grabbed one and handed me another. "The real victims here are you and I, buddy boy!" He nudged me, taking a seat next to me.

"Yeah?" I laughed.

"Yup, trust me! My daughter isn't materialistic or dramatic like my wife. However, she's a handful! Don't get it twisted! These Hallowell women aren't to be trifled with. In a year or so, Sam will have your testes in a bag. She will be placed in her $10,000 Louie-whatever it's called. The purse. The one with the L and V plastered all over it."

I chuckled, knowing what he meant.

"Well, in your case, it'll be in one of your metal suitcases. Don't let my wife get ahold of one of those things. She's capable of sending it out and vomiting LV all over it. You should've seen the horror my mother-in-law was. I'm so happy I wasn't married to that one." Tim's brows went up, and he cringed at the memory.

"What makes you think one of my balls isn't trapped in a vice already?" I asked, shaking my head as Tim let out a hearty laugh.

We both looked up as we heard someone clear their throat. Sam and Rebecca were scowling at us. I hadn't even realized the wedding planner was back with the centerpiece. She shook her head and looked down, obviously knowing Tim and I were in trouble.

"Want to go check out the dessert table, Dad?" I ask Tim as the women continued to glare at us.

"I'll race you there, son!"

We stood and quickly walked away.