Heists and Vengeance

Eighteen

Ryder

When Ryder heard the jingle of keys in the lock, he practically vaulted to the door. It was about time the others had come back! They'd been supposed to return by nine o'clock, and the last he'd checked, it was half-past.

The lock clicked, and the door pushed open. Ryder stood there, glaring, ready to scold, but as soon as he saw them the words died on his lips.

Erin looked relatively unharmed, and so did Brett, save for a scratch on his arm. But Lana...

They were carrying her together, and Ryder could tell why – the paleness of her face made him certain she would not be able to stand on her own. She was clutching her side, which was heavily bandaged, but the gauze were tainted by the dark red stain spreading on the cloth.

"What happened there?" He turned to Brett. "This was supposed to be a relatively simple mission, but of course-"

"Not now, Ryder," Brett said, voice sharp. Despite the bite of his voice, Ryder could sense the underlying exhaustion and stress, and so he didn't push it. On a normal night, he wouldn't be happy with Brett's tone, but...this wasn't a normal night.

He pressed his lips together. "Okay. How serious is the wound?"

"Pretty serious, Ryder." Brett responded. "You can tell by that fact that there's blood all over her shirt!"

He ignored Brett, and leaned forward. "Here. Let me help." Brett slowly eased his arm off Lana, and Ryder took his spot next to her. "Let's go to the couch."

As Brett walked away, muttering about needing a drink, Ryder and Erin slowly guided Lana towards the sofa in the living room. She was like a rag doll, completely limp, and when they set her down, she let out a hiss of pain.

"Sorry." Erin whispered to her. Lana just nodded, and closed her eyes. Within seconds, she was out like a light.

Ryder turned to Erin. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you." She nodded towards the kitchen. "Over a drink."

Suddenly, Cole burst into the room. "I saw Brett in the kitchen! So how'd the mission-" He stopped when he saw Lana's condition. "Oh my god. What happened?"

Erin sighed wearily. "Let's go to Brett. He'll help me explain."

"So you're saying," Ryder said, voice deadly serious. "That all this happened just because you couldn't control your bladder?"

Brett nodded, and took a swig of whatever liquor he was drinking. Ryder had respectfully passed when Brett had offered a drink, but now he was starting to regret that choice.

"That was pretty much my reaction when he told me," Erin said from her position hunched over her own glass of alcohol. "Except I was way louder."

"Why didn't you shoot back?" Cole asked. He'd taken all of this in pretty well, compared to the rest of them, but then again, he'd always been good at managing his emotions. Ryder had tried to emulate that, but that was an area where he felt he identified more with Erin – he couldn't help but show how he was feeling.

"We didn't have time to shoot back – we were running for our lives!" Brett said loudly.

"Lives that were in danger because of you." Ryder shot back. He knew that Brett was currently drowning his regrets in drink, but he needed him to understand the gravity of his choices.