Heists and Vengeance

Six

Ryder

Ryder knew he should have said something else to Brett, but he wasn't sure how to smooth over the awkwardness he'd just caused. But Ryder had other more important things to think about – like the fact that he'd been ambushed on his way home by three Reapers. How they'd found him, he didn't know – but he was going to find out.

He strode down the hallway, stopping, and knocking at Erin's door. When she called for him to come in, Ryder opened the door and entered her room.

He looked around the room, surveying its bright yellow walls, the unmade bed in the corner, and the sketchbooks piled on every surface – it was so chaotic, and so intrinsically Erin.

The person in question was seated at a wide wooden desk, busy on yet another drawing. Ryder leaned against the door frame, waiting until Erin looked up at him.

"What?"

"Miss Turner is going to be staying here for a few weeks, so to help us with this heist. I need you to prepare a room for her."

Erin raised her eyebrows. "Prepare a room? And what does that mean?"

"I don't know. Make it cozy, and welcoming, or something." He shrugged. "Just do what you can to make her feel comfortable here. "

She nodded as she turned back to her drawing. "I can do that." Ryder wasn't surprised – Erin had a quality that made her seem easy and approachable to pretty much anyone. He thanked her and left to his own room.

He slumped on his bed, grateful for the solitude. He couldn't stop thinking about his conversation he'd had with the Turner girl, and the ambush that had occurred right after.

***

She'd been late.

Ryder had reached the house at which they were supposed to meet exactly on time, but she'd arrived at least 10 minutes later. He'd waited in the sparsely furnished sitting room, on a musty armchair, waiting for the doorbell to ring, and when it did, he'd jumped out of his seat, and practically raced to the front door. It had opened, and-

Oh.

Ryder had stood there in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the girl. Her dirty-blond hair had been tied back into a messy ponytail, and her fair skin seemed smooth and unblemished, save for a small scar just under her left eye. Ryder wasn't that tall but he'd still towered over her, and she'd almost had to crane her neck to look up at him. However, she made up for her small stature by the fierceness in her brown eyes – they held a relentless determination that Ryder couldn't help but admire.

They 'd stood in silence, just drinking each other in, all other things forgotten for the time being. It should have been awkward, but somehow...it hadn't been.

"I'm... I'm sorry I'm late." The girl said, breaking the silence. She'd looked down, a blush staining her cheeks, and Ryder couldn't think about anything, except for the girl standing right in front of him-

What's happening to me? Ryder had shaken his head, getting a grip on himself. "No, don't worry about it." he replied. "I'm Ryder Donahue, by the way. Just call me Ryder."

"Lana Turner. But you probably already knew that."

He'd stood to the side, to let her in the house, and when she'd smiled in thanks...it lit up her whole face. Ryder thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful before.

As she'd walked in, her attention had seemed to flit from the faded wallpaper to the rickety wooden furniture, and the musty carpet beneath their feet. Her curiosity been so fascinating to watch, and Ryder hadn't realized he'd been staring until she looked over at him.