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Even if Marshal was a liar, the man had never physically hurt him.
“Get out!” Okay, that might have been a raging scream sound, but so the fuck what?
He was pissed.
And then he was suddenly upside down when he was hoisted over Marshal’s shoulder.
“Ahhhhhh!” he raged, pounding at Marshal’s broad back.
Nothing phased the massive man and Ryker found himself carried from the room, down the hallway, and outside to the front circular driveway.
Syn stood there with the door open to a black SUV and Ryker realized his friend had had a hand in Marshal getting onto Harold’s estate.
“Syn!” Ryker hissed at his friend, feeling betrayed.
“I can’t have you making a mistake this big,” Syn murmured as Ryker was shoved inside the SUV.
The door shut and Ryker yanked at the handle only to find it remained closed. The childproof lock had been engaged from the front.
Marshal slid into the back seat alongside him and the driver pulled out of the Baldwin’s long driveway.
Through the window, Ryker watched as Jennifer arrived and Syn slid into the front seat of her sports car.
Had his friends been in on this together?
Damn it.
This reeked of Syn’s doing and he was going to give his friend a piece of his mind.
The big silent man’s presence next to him pissed him off.
Ryker huffed, crossed his arms, and turned his face away to stare out the window.
The car ended up at the airport and Ryker whirled on Marshal when it pulled up to a private jet.
“The fuck you think I’m getting on that plane,” Ryker snarled.
Marshal released a tired-sounding sigh, but Ryker didn’t give a fuck.
“Walk voluntarily or I’ll carry you.”
“Don’t fucking touch me.” His hand slapped Marshal flat across the face and the two guards in the front seat booked it out of the vehicle, leaving the doors open.
Marshal didn’t even flinch from the slap, so Ryker slapped him again. He wanted to keep hitting the man until he forgot all the shitty things Marshal had done, but forgetting wasn’t going to happen.
Marshal caught his wrist after the fourth slap. Shoving the door open, Marshal pulled him over the seat and exited the vehicle. When Ryker’s feet hit the pavement, he kicked, aiming for the man’s crotch.
With a quick move, Marshal deflected and the hit landed on the guy’s thigh. Marshal grunted, but hung onto his wrist even though he was violently struggling.
“Ryker!” Syn caught him from behind and held him.
“I’m not going with him!” he screamed and fuck if his tears didn’t start. Before he could hold them back, they trailed down his cheeks. His breath became labored, panting.
“Jennifer and I are going with you,” Syn whispered, squeezing him tightly. “Cohen is waiting.”
With the words ringing in his ears, his burning eyes held Marshal’s across the short distance. A muscle ticked in Marshal’s jaw. Regret filled the man’s eyes and a sheen made them shine.
He hated the fact that he’d hurt Marshal.
