Chapter 58

Chapter 58
Ryker

Theo pulled a chair out and sat down at the table. He looked from Deacon to me and back to Deacon. “I came to check on Iris. I don't know why you took her out of that damn place you want to call a hospital so quickly. She needed more help, obviously.” His words cut me, he was questioning my care for Iris, and that pissed me off more. “What the fuck are you talking about? Ayden said I could bring her home. I had a nurse here watching over her.” I walked to the bar and poured myself a glass of whiskey. “Deac?” I asked before putting the bottle back on the shelf. He shook his head no. “I’ll take a bourbon.” Theo said, his ego coming out thick in his tone. I slammed the cup down in front of him. “She is resting, and fine, you need to be on your way.” Deacon said, his tone also full of ego, almost threatening. Theo picked up the glass and tossed it back like a shot before standing back up. “Where were you anyway? Why was she here alone?” Deacon looked to me to answer him. “We went on a milk run; Iris enjoys milk with her morning cheerios.” I said now using my cocky tone. He shook his head, “I heard over my scanner that one of the safe houses known to hide Punisher members burnt down.” He looked at me, taking a step closer to me. “You wouldn’t know anything about that would you Lorcane? They seem to think Claud was hiding in there.” I shrugged and smiled at him, almost sweetly. “Hmmm, I hadn't heard. Shit! I needed to talk to Claud before he disappeared, dammit, now what will I do.” Theo sat the whiskey glass down in front of me and turned for the door. “The girl seems to have a hidden problem with those pain meds. She knew better than to drink on that medication like that. You might want to keep an eye on that.” I saw Deacon give me an, “I told you so” glance while he spoke. I saw her, nearly unconscious in Theo’s arms, I knew I had to ask her what is going on. Theo walked out the door and Deacon closed the door behind him. He placed his hand to his ear to speak into his earpiece telling the security to make sure he left completely and then lock down the perimeter.  

After a few moments, Deacon walked back over to me and sat down at the table. “Aren’t you going to go home and see your family tonight?” I asked him. Deacon didn’t like going too long without checking in. “I won't risk some fucking idiot following me home. No one knows about my family but you, well, and Iris, and I would like to keep it that way.” He shrugged and reached for my whiskey glass finishing the rest of it. “Well, the guest house is probably still set up the way you like it from last time.” I said, knowing he would want to get some rest soon. He nodded and stood up. He walked over to my whiskey shelf and grabbed one of my nicely aged bottles of bourbon. “I'm taking this.” He winked as he headed for the connection to the guest house. A secret hallway behind a bookshelf in the study with securely gives him access in case of emergency. “Goodnight Deac.” I laughed as he walked away. I sat there, still, in the quiet of the dining room. I knew I needed to head to bed, but to see Iris in that state had shaken me to my core.    

As the weight of the night's chaos settled into the silence, I leaned back in the chair, the tension palpable in my every movement, my thoughts twisting and turning like shadows cast against the dining room walls. I let out a slow breath, the whiskey’s warmth doing little to calm the storm still raging within. The image of Iris—frail, distant, and teetering on the edge of consciousness—gnawed at me, a stark reminder of what I have fought to protect and what I might risk losing. The moonlight pooled across the table, its silver glow catching on the polished steel of the knife now idle beside my glass. My gaze lingered on it, the faint echo of Theo’s words ringing in my ears. I knew more questions would come, ones I might not have answers for, and the thought weighed heavily on me. Yet, through the haze of whiskey and lingering rage, a single thought crystallized: whether by darkness or light, I would carve a path forward—for Iris, for the fragile peace I had clung to, and for the redemption I wasn’t sure I still deserved but couldn’t stop seeking. 

I got up from my chair and cleaned the whiskey glasses before hanging them back up. I wiped the bar and hung the towel back up. When I headed for the bedroom, all I could think about was wrapping myself around Iris. Disappearing under the blankets and feeling her small but warm body against my own. As I approached the bedroom door, the stillness of the house seemed to carry an unfamiliar quiet, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. Pushing the door open, I felt a wash of relief seeing Iris nestled beneath the blankets, her face softened by sleep, the tension of the day’s chaos momentarily erased. I moved carefully, mindful not to disturb her fragile rest, and sat beside her on the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under my weight. My fingers brushed against hers, light as a whisper, grounding me in the reality that she was here, safe for the moment. The questions and uncertainties that had plagued me seemed to fade, overtaken by the simple act of being close to her, though the knot in my chest refused to fully loosen. I leaned back against the headboard, the rhythmic sound of her breathing calming the edges of my storm, but not enough to silence the thoughts swirling within me. The darkness I had embraced in her name haunted me still, yet I knew I would wield it again if it meant safeguarding her. For now, though, the night stretched ahead and promised an elusive peace that I vowed to hold close, however fleeting. 

As I closed my eyes and started to drift off, my heart started to pound. I felt like a weight had been laid on top of me, like a I was splattered in Clauds blood all over again. My breathing got heavier as images of my machete slicing into him flooded my mind. I held my breath to slow my panic, but I sat up, now almost panting. Sweat covered my face and chest, and my heart felt like it might burst. Suddenly, I heard a sweet sound in my ear and felt those soft fingertips on my cheek. “Look at me, Ryker!” Her sweet voice more stern than usual. “Breathe...” She yelled at me. I opened my eyes and looked right into hers. “You are having a panic attack... You must breathe.” I took a deep breath in and let it back out slowly. “Good, Daddy, do that again.” I did as she said and the tension in my chest stared to ease, though the cloudiness in my brain seemed to stay. “Are you okay?” She said kissed me softly on my lips. I nodded, but I was lying. I had never had a panic attack before, and this isn't the first time I have come home from a night like tonight. What the hell was happening to me?