Behind the houses, the sun was rising and turning the sky beautiful shades of gray and pink. The air was moist with dew. He inhaled the sweet smell of the flowering shrub that blossomed in front of his neighbor’s house and gazed around his neighborhood with a feeling of satisfaction that he was finally home.
He spent the last six months moving around, searching. For what? Peace? Knowledge? Truth? Didn’t matter. Ryker hadn’t found any of it, but he was more than ready to settle down in one place, at last.
The job he’d just finished for the Brotherhood Alliance, guarding a sweet older woman from an abusive son, rattled him. Sure, he’d seen worse in battle but, come on, a son turning on his mother for money? Disgusting.
The dickwad didn’t think he was getting enough from her estate, not that she had much of an estate. She was still living in her house and wanted to stay in it as long as she could. The son tried to have his mother declared incompetent and committed to a mental facility. His feisty mother showed him. Now the son was entirely out of the will.
After Ryker had a little “discussion” with him about never coming near his mother again, the asswipe hightailed it out of Florida.
He opened the front door, walked through the living room, past the kitchen, and into the guest room to check his security feed. All was good. His house was safe, and the neighborhood was quiet. When Ryker moved into the area a few months ago, he felt instantly at home. It was a middle-class working neighborhood like the one he grew up in.
There was no light on at the small ranch house next door. He wondered if it was still empty. The elderly woman who lived there died just before he moved in. He didn’t know if the house was for sale but hoped whoever moved in would be quiet.
His neighbors on the other side were a working couple with no kids. The rest of the block consisted of older people, couples with children, two singles, and him. They minded their own business—most of the time. He found out the first day he moved in that there was that nosy neighbor that most people avoided. He caught her peeking out from behind her curtains every time he left the house. However, after several conversations and bonding over an especially good coffee cake and bad coffee, he found Mrs. Bittner to be a lonely and very sweet older lady, the widow of a police officer. It didn’t hurt that she watched out for the neighbors, even if they didn’t appreciate it.
He also discovered that there was an unofficial neighborhood welcoming committee.
Having people deliver food to his house was embarrassing, but he felt welcome, and he still had casseroles and sweets in the freezer to enjoy.
Ryker walked down the hallway and back to the kitchen. It looked like someone had tried to update it years ago and failed. The appliances were basic white and out of date. The countertops were granite. It was something he could work with. The updates stopped there. There was no rhyme nor reason to the renovation.
Ryker shook his head, then grabbed the orange juice from the fridge and poured himself a glass and contemplated whether to go to bed or stay up. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d stayed up all night.
Chase Maddox, the director of the Brotherhood Alliance, hadn’t called about another job, and Ryker had to find one.
The pay from the Brotherhood Alliance was generous, but Ryker needed to keep busy during the day and to have a steady income.
He fingered the small knife in his pocket. It was a gift from his grandpa when he was young.
He considered turning the small outbuilding in the large backyard into a woodworking shop. His father and grandpa taught him the basics of woodworking. Ryker enjoyed working with his hands. Maybe he could make small pieces of furniture to sell. Hmmm, he’d have to think about that.
There was still plenty of work to do around his house.
When he bought it, the agent called it a fixer-upper. She hadn’t lied. The wallpaper had to be stripped, the kitchen renovated, and the bathrooms updated. At some point, he’d paint, but that would be last. He could live with the beige walls and lack of furniture for a while. At least the roof and tile floors were in decent shape. There was plenty of work to keep his body and mind busy.
Ryker sighed. First up, fix the shop, and then the house. Hopefully, Chase would have another job for him soon. He enjoyed protecting people, especially the vulnerable. The ones who had limited funds, the ones no one looked after or even thought about.
It reminded him of his dad and grandpa. After his mother died, they always went out of their way to help their neighbors, particularly the senior citizens who had no one to assist them.
As a teenager, he raked leaves in the fall, shoveled driveways in the winter, and mowed lawns in the summer. The grandmas filled his stomach with lemonade and cake and his mind with a feeling of satisfaction. Everyone looked out for one another. The neighbors were grateful.
That was why he joined the Army and trained to be a Green Beret. Ryker hated bullies and terrorists. He lived to serve, protect, and hunt down those who wanted to harm his country or innocent people. It was the reason why, when his friend Dexter “Digger” Drum told him about the Brotherhood Alliance, Ryker was eager to join the organization and put down roots. He could use the skills he learned in the military to honor and protect vulnerable clients who were without resources to hire protection.
His yawn was long, deep, and unexpected. Okay then. He was exhausted. Maybe a short nap would reenergize him, and then he’d get up and tackle some of those boxes in the guest room—or not.
The boxes contained keepsakes from his life and journals that his wife kept, which he hadn’t read.
He already knew about his wife’s affair with his best friend. He didn’t need to read about it. They were killed two years ago by a drunk driver going the wrong way down the highway.
Ryker rolled his neck and popped the kinks. Maybe he’d put that chore off. Why feed his broken heart and rehash old betrayals?
CHAPTER THREE
Dani wiped her brow with the small hand towel she brought from home. Sweat dripped from every pore on her body.
Her third yoga class had just finished, and even though she was exhausted and ached all over, she felt great—invigorated. She loved teaching yoga. But she looked forward to having a few minutes to herself before picking up Jack at his after-school program
Several participants waved goodbye. She welcomed the quiet. Dani glanced around the studio with a feeling of pride, joy, and accomplishment.
The Spiritual Bliss studio was in a converted warehouse separated to house several businesses. The studio was on the second floor of the renovated building. Mallory Chapman, the studio’s owner, had divided the space into three rooms, with paneled glass doors separating the rooms.
The light wooden floors blended nicely with the soft white walls. The owners painted the tin ceiling white to give the space a clean and calming feeling. Pops of green plants surrounded the huge glass windows, which overlooked a small courtyard. A ceramic fountain in the corner created a peaceful atmosphere and a quiet refuge from the hustle and bustle outside with the sound of trickling water. Underlying scents of frankincense permeated the air to promote relaxation.
“Hey, Dani,” said Mallory as she walked into the room. “How did the classes go?”
Dani threw her towel in the basket and looked at her boss. “Fine. The women are so nice.” So far. Everyone in her classes seemed to be drama-free. In the past, she’d had one or two clients who didn’t fit into the class, which made things awkward for the other participants.