The man gasped as he dropped back. His eyes narrowed as a feral snarl curled his lip before he moved forward again. Ryker bounced on his toes, keeping his bad arm pinned to his stomach. The bastard might have had a throwing star, but he wasn’t well trained. Ryker sneered at the bastard and returned the taunt. “I love a good fight, too.” He bolted forward and elevated his good arm high over the man’s head, bringing the other man's arms up to block a blow that would never come. He kicked the bastard’s knee. The joint popped, and he went down partway.
The perp snapped forward, sending his arm in an arc. His fist landed on Ryker’s injured shoulder. Black spots ravaged his vision and his knees gave out. He went down like a fucking rock. The bastard came at him, his rage pinpointed on Ryker’s neck, and the perp locked both hands around it.
His reflex actions from countless hours on the training mat kicked in. Ryker bridged his back, trapped the man’s arms with his good arm, slipped his foot to the outside of the man’s leg, and flipped them both to the side. He rolled them, and with every ounce of strength he had left, he threw a left hook. The guy went limp and Ryker sat back on his heels.
The fucker was still breathing. Thank God. He stared at the man's face. Other than seeing him tonight with Brie, he'd never seen the man before. Was he a major player in the Cartel? Had he killed Peña and Rubio? Was he the top of the organization now? So many fucking questions and not a single answer. Yet.
Black spots still danced in front of his eyes. He blinked them clear and groaned as he stood up. He stared at the man he’d cuffed earlier. The guy wasn’t even trying to move. Smart man. He bent and picked up his weapon and then looked for his radio. Damn it, where had it gone?
A rush of feet breached the mouth of the alley. Uniformed officers leveled their weapons and screamed for him to drop his weapon.
Ryker hung his head and stared at the word POLICE emblazoned down his leg and across his chest of his sweats. Stupid. No, not really. The cop was being cautious, which was good. He carefully lowered the weapon to the ground and backed away from it as directed. He didn’t want to get shot again, and not following the directions a cop gave you upped that probability.
“Arms up! Get on your knees!”
Ryker snorted. Yeah, where had he heard that before? He obliged with his left arm. “My right arm is broken. I’m Captain Ryker Terrell, HCPD JDET. These two are the runners from the warehouse sweep. Call it in and ask.”
“I’ll do that once you go to your knees.” The cop moved up and kicked his weapon away.
“Dude, that is my service weapon. If you fuck it up, I’m having the department come after you for the cost of repair.” Ryker dropped to his knees and then sat on his heels. Man, he’d seriously fucked up the doc’s work on his shoulder.
He heard the uniform call it in and heard Patel’s voice answer. He sniggered when she cussed over the radio. She was a momma bear.
One of the uniforms brought his weapon and handed it to him as the other cuffed the man who’d dropped Brie into the harbor. “Did he break your arm, sir?”
“No. I had shoulder replacement surgery about a week ago.”
“Holy hell, you took down two perps one-armed?”
“Yeah, and I thought you were going to take it easy today.” Tiernan’s smart ass comment brought a smile to his face, but he wasn’t moving. Actually, he couldn’t. If he did, he’d puke. He was done.
Tiernan crouched down beside him. “Dobson?” Ryker needed an update on the hurt member of his team.
“He’ll live. Not sure if he’ll be back to work anytime soon. Looks like the bullet went through his ankle.”
“I can recommend a doctor.” Ryker tried to lose the exhaustion, but damn it, he was fucking tired. “The op?”
“From what I’m getting from Control, we have all three sites secured. No casualties. My guys took down three in the warehouse, but we were able to get medical to them in time. They opened fire on us. We have it on video for internal affairs. How about we get you to the hospital?”
Ryker nodded. “Yeah, that would probably be good.”
“Fucker nailed you in the shoulder, didn’t he?” Tiernan offered him a hand up.
“Yeah. Do me a favor, would yah? Find out who the hell that guy is and make sure they watch him close. He’s mental.”
Tiernan chuckled as he ducked under Ryker's good arm. Ryker groaned but appreciated the support. “He’s not the only one who’s mental. You’d probably give him a run for his money.”
“Not funny.”
Tiernan laughed and started them toward the mouth of the alley. “Yeah, it really is.”
Ryker focused on moving one foot in front of the other. Okay, it probably was fucking hilarious. He’d laugh tomorrow.
Maybe.
Chapter 19
Ryker opened his eyes. Fuck. Right, the hospital. Again.
“Hi.” Brie leaned over him.
“Babe.” The word sounded like a croaking toad with a mouth full of flies, but she smiled at him. Fuck, he'd never get enough of that smile.
“The doctor was pretty upset with you.” She pushed the hair off his forehead.
“Not my fault.” He blinked up at her. “How are you?”
Her smile faltered for a moment. “Scared. Tired. Sore.”
He lifted his head and glanced down at the bed. He didn't have an IV stuck in him, so he tapped the silver rail with his hand. “Put this down and lie down with me.”
She shook her head. “I don't want to hurt you.”
“The only
