Extra Bonus #78: The Night of the Donnellys: The During (Ryke Meadows) (Patreon)

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RESOURCES:  Check out this narrative timeline graphic to visually see when this bonus scene takes place.

SPOILER WARNING: This bonus takes place during UNLUCKY LIKE US and will contain MAJOR spoilers from the book and will ruin your reading experience if you have not read Unlucky first.

LUNA AND LILY ARE IN TROUBLE. They’ve been attacked. The text from Paul Donnelly—of everyone who could’ve messaged me—is an airhorn in my head, my ears, my fucking soul. My world is dark tonight. It’s storming. In and outside my body. Thunder booms, and rain pelts the visor of my motorcycle helmet.

I tighten my livid grip on the handlebars of my daughter’s Ducati. I didn’t grab my fucking gloves. Rain wets my hands, but it’d take a power higher than God and Connor Cobalt to pry my fingers off this bike.

I’m not letting go.

I’m not braking.

I can’t fucking stop until I reach them. And where the hell is my brother? On his way. I remember that part of the text.

Rage overpowers fear. Overpowers concern. Overpowers every tender emotion that I could carry in this caustic moment. I want to kill, maim, harm, throttle. I’m a fucking vacuum of fury, and I wish my tires would scorch the bodies of whoever laid a hand on Lily, on Luna.

I’d run them over.

“I’ll kill them,” I mutter to myself, heat brewing in my chest. Each breath is heavy and searing. I’ve already whizzed past two security SUVs who’ve been notified about Lily and Luna a few minutes ahead of me. I’ve already sped onto an on-ramp.

I’ve already answered three phone calls from security via my helmet’s Bluetooth, and no one has any information other than where to fucking go. Price would know—he’s been my wife’s bodyguard for decades and the head of Triple Shield—and even if we’ve had rough patches this past year, I still trust him. He’d know everything and he’d tell me if I asked.

So I fucking asked.

He said, “We don’t have much information. Just that Lily and Luna have been attacked. Loren’s on his way.” He told me to go there.

Everyone told me to go. And fast.

I’ve met dark moments of adrenaline-fueled urgency in my fucking life, and I want this to be a blip. Fucking nothing. Part of me knows it’s too late for that to happen, for that to be true.

I’m bowed forward on the sport bike, and I accelerate faster.

I weave dangerously between cars in the rain. I’m on automatic. Not thinking about my life, just reacting, just fucking doing. And my phone rings again. I answer the call on the helmet.

“Are you on your way there?” It’s Connor.

“Yeah.” I’m glad he cuts to the fucking chase. Doesn’t ask me if I know. Assumes I already do. I’m not interested in a long chat that leaves me irritated at the end. I just want to reach them before it’s too late.

“They think it’s the Donnellys,” Connor tells me, and I blink back the start of tunnel vision. I focus on the road, not my escalating wrath. “An ambulance has been called, so has the med team. Of what I’ve learned, they haven’t arrived yet. Rose and Daisy are planning on gathering all the teenagers at my house. Kinney is already there.”

“Where’s Xander?” I ask.

“Home alone. I can’t go get him. I’m stuck in traffic.”

I’m about to meet the same traffic. I’m entering Center City, and it’s a fucking nightmare of red lights and bumper-to-bumper cars. “Call Garrison. He was at my house. Get him to get Xander.”

“Already did.”

I can’t relax at the thought. There are too many other reasons to be tensed and furious. The Donnellys. What would they do to Luna? To Lily? What would they fucking want with them?

What did they even want with Beckett on Halloween? My nephew?

To mug him? To hurt him?

I grind my jaw. There’s a reason I haven’t been involved in any of the security meetings about this major fucking threat. Because I can’t contain the part of me that erupts like a volcano when faced with this type of evil.

I just can’t.

It feels like it needs to be met with fire and stone, not cool, soft hands, and I can’t cool down for this.

I just can’t.

“Ryke,” Connor says before he hangs up. “Stay with him.” I know he’s referring to my brother. I know if something happens to Lo’s wife and daughter, his world is going to be even darker than mine.

“I’d never fucking leave him.” That’s been the truth of my life, ever since Lo turned twenty-one.

I’ve never left my brother.

Once we end the call, traffic is a shit show. I drag my feet on the cement—that’s how dead-stopped we all are. Fuck it. I go between the cars and cut the line to the red light. I’m met with honks, but as soon as it turns green, I’m in front of the pack and accelerate again.

My phone rings, and my Bluetooth tells me who’s calling. My stomach drops with a cement-block of weight.

“Mof,” I answer, my breath heavy.

Is he already on the road?

“Do you know what’s going on?” Moffy asks. “Farrow just ran out for a med call, and I can’t get ahold of my parents.”

“Where are you?” I ask, right as a maroon truck switches into my lane—nearly hitting the front of my bike. Are you fucking serious?! I swerve in enough time, but my nose flares, pulse on an ascent.

“In the elevator.”

“Fucking come on,” I curse. A Ford Focus honks at me when I cut into their lane to avoid being hit again by the asshole in the truck. “Fuck you!” I yell, then remember, “Not you, Mof.”

“What’s going on?” he asks, voice firm and more demanding.

He’s in the dark. I didn’t ask Connor about him, not because I forgot about Moffy, but because I thought he’d know as much as I do already. Through his husband. I thought he’d be behind a wheel, gripping it with the same ire that flows through my blood. I thought he’d be on his way, and the realization that he’s not…it relieves me for a brief second.

Usually, I like having Moffy around to help…but my brother can’t lose a son tonight. I don’t know if he’d survive that many blows.

There are so few times I’ve ever coddled him. I can’t ever really remember treating Moffy like a breakable, fragile kid. But I can’t have him risk his life by speeding through traffic like me.

Not tonight.

I can’t lose him either. I fucking love Moffy. I’ll always love him in a different way than I do my other nephews. He was with us when we were so young…when life was more fucking complicated. When we all lived together and we were still figuring shit out.

Most days, we’re still trying to figure it out. Age has given us more experience, but sometimes, I still can’t see the correct path when there’s a fork in the road. Life is a series of trials and errors, and all we can do is learn by the mistakes and hope to make better choices down the line.

This, right now, is a choice I’m making.

If he’s going to find out what’s going on, it won’t be through me. But I also don’t have it in me to tell him not to come.

Positions reversed, I’d be incensed. And I’d go anyway, regardless if I was told not to. I know Moffy is the same.

The only one who could stop me is Daisy.

Long seconds pass, and I finally claw out the words, “I don’t know that fucking much.” It’s true. I really fucking don’t.

“What do you know?” he asks.

The maroon truck purposefully hits the gas, just to cross back in front of me. “For fuck’s sake,” I growl out. “Fucking MOVE!” I gesticulate a hand towards the bastard in the front seat. “Stop trying to cut me the fuck off.” He gives me the bird. “Yeah—fuck you too!” I flip him off.

I need off this road. Away from this jackass.

Taking a slight detour, I take the next right, then a left. Avoiding as many traffic lights as possible, and I’m splitting lanes again. I can’t even care right now that it’s illegal.

Blood and pulse pumping, I talk to Moffy more hurriedly in Spanish. I tell him there’s a situation and I ask if he’s getting on the road soon.

He replies in Spanish that he’s about to.

“Please be fucking safe,” I tell him in English.

“Did someone get in a wreck?”

I don’t think so. “I don’t really fucking know.” My throat is searing, my deep voice scratching my esophagus like I’ve chugged gasoline and lit it on fire.

“Where are you headed?” he asks me.

Don’t come here. “Call Connor.”

There’s a pause. “Yeah, I will.” He hangs up, and I try to concentrate on the road, the storm, the path ahead to Lily, Luna, and Lo.

Please be okay.

Please be fucking okay.

When I roll into the dead-end road, I’m not the first one here. Or even the fucking second. I feel too late as police, private security, paramedics, and an ambulance cram the narrow street. It’s loud with sirens and chatter and shouting. I barely slow to a stop when I hop off the Ducati. Not even thinking about the kickstand. Not even caring as the bike falls to its side. Prying my helmet off, I run past bodyguards, past officers.

I run to my brother. “LO!” I scream.

Where’s my brother?

Nothing could stop me from finding him. Not a cyclone. Not a fucking earthquake. I feel like I could tear through concrete and rubble to reach Lo in this moment. Somewhere, deep-down, I know it’s bad.

It’s dark. Flashlights are beamed towards the back, swinging against the brick walls of the buildings that jut out on either side of the narrow street. I run past Lily’s rental car. Windows busted. My boots crunch glass and chunks of asphalt.

I see the Keenes crouched down, paramedics wheeling a stretcher to the scene, and I finally find him.

Lo is among the med team, knelt beside someone. Luna? Lily?

My heart thrashes in my chest, and I pick up speed. “Lo!” I call out, only a few feet away.

He doesn’t react. Maybe doesn’t even fucking hear me. It’s noisy. The Keenes are talking over the sirens as much as possible.

When I squat next to Lo, I rest a hand on the back of his stiff neck—he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move a muscle, and then I follow his glazed gaze to the body that the Keenes hover over.

My stomach turns inside-out. Hatred, rage, anger erupts over the nausea, and fury burns my lungs again.

Lily. She’s small. Weighs barely anything. If there was even one of them, she’d have no fucking chance up against them. What kind of fucking monster would do this to a woman?

I instantly try to turn Lo away from seeing his wife this badly hurt. He jerks against me.

“Lo,” I breathe. Come on, Lo. Fucking please.

He’s holding her limp hand. “I’m not leaving her. I’m not leaving her.” His breath is hot and shallow. But he finally looks at me and the acid pouring through his amber eyes is more than lethal. I truly think he’d kill me if I even tried to take him away from Lily right now. “I’m. Not. Leaving. Her.” He says each word with force and precision, and it does its job of cutting through me.

I nod, understanding.

He rubs at his puffy, reddened eyes with the side of his fist. His cheeks are wet from an onslaught of tears that descended before I arrived. He’s blinking a shit ton, and I try to focus on him and not Lily.

If I look at her again, I will hop on my bike and chase down those fucking sick bastards myself.

My brother needs me here.

My brother needs me here.

It’s why I stay.

The Keenes throw out so much medical jargon, my temple hammers. Lo asks, “What’s going on?” as soon as Farrow moves with urgency and focus. He’s sliding a curved metal blade with a light attached down Lily’s throat.

“Farrow is intubating her,” Dr. Keene, Farrow’s father, tells us. He speaks to a paramedic about putting her on the stretcher.

“Why does she need to be intubated?” Lo asks, his breath jagged.

“To help her breathe,” Farrow answers calmly, and when he’s finished and a tube is in her airway, he looks up at him. “Everything’s going to be okay, Lo.”

Lo shakes his head slowly like that possibility is gone. He’s in a daze, staring haunted again at Lily. His hand squeezes around hers. “I’m here, love.” I hear him whisper under his breath. “I’m here.”

“She’s going to make it,” Farrow rephrases.

Lo tries to take a breath, then he blinks a few times. “…Luna…where’s Luna?” Pure fear washes over his face. “Luna!” he calls out, like maybe she’ll pop up behind the rental car. “Luna?!” His voice cracks, and it shatters something in me, hearing him call for his daughter like that.

I never want to be in this fucking place again.

My muscles burn. “She’s not here?” I ask the med team more than my brother.

He’s still partially lost, his face fogged in shock.. “I…I have to find Luna. Ryke.”

“We’ll find her.” I whip my head around the chaotic scene. Security is huddled near an SUV, speaking a mile a minute to one another.

“They’re looking for her,” Farrow tells us while the paramedics lift Lily onto the stretcher. We’re all standing. His father and uncle take over Lily’s care, and I watch him snap off bloodied medical gloves and jog over to security.

“Philly General is expecting us,” Dr. Keene tells Lo as we rush with the stretcher to the ambulance. The paramedics open the door.

Lo only lets go of Lily’s hand when she’s lifted into the ambulance. Dr. Keene has already climbed into the back, and Lo is next to board.

I’m about to climb on, motorcycle helmet tucked under my armpit.

But Lo twists around, and he’s looking at someone past my shoulder. I catch a glimpse of Paul Donnelly—the Omega bodyguard who’s loosely involved with all this shit through the relation of his estranged family. But despite that connection, my little brother won’t cast him out.

Because his daughter loves him.

Because a long, long time ago, Lo once kept apart two people who loved each other, and he’s trying not to do what he did to me and Daisy to someone else.

Most days, I believe he’s better than I am. I’m too stubborn to grow at the same fast rate as Lo, but he’d tell you he’s the worst of us—when he’s anything but.

“Donnelly?” Lo calls out, wind roaring through the dead-end alleyway. My brother isn’t angry. Isn’t shooting daggers. He looks absolutely fucking pulverized, and there’s no room for the kind of inferno in his body that’s raging in mine. Donnelly inches closer to hear as Lo says, “Luna—”

“I’m gonna get her. I promise you,” Donnelly says, voice knotted and face trying to stay whole and not torn up. I don’t know him that well, but his expression says he fucking loves Luna too.

He’ll find my niece.

I have to believe in that too. Because I can’t leave Lo.

Security is on top of it. Connor is likely involved. It’s everything I need to get my ass in the back of the ambulance. The doors shut, and I’m sitting beside my brother while we bump along the street and the sirens blare. He’s cradling Lily’s hand again, but he's staring far away, lost in the events in his head. I wrap my arm around his shoulders.

His breath shortens, and I can feel him holding it together. Every minute, every second, he’s clinging. I can’t ignite his fucking world with light. Daisy is the one I think of when everything goes black, but I’m here.

I’ve always been like the rock I climb. As much as I could crumble, I can’t, not when I brace my brother.

I keep holding him.

HE HAS TO SPLIT up from Lily in the ICU. They won’t let him back there with her. This is the worst part. The separation, the fucking unknown.

Lo says he wants time to himself, and I can’t fucking deny him that. So I buy a couple water bottles out of the vending machine. I loiter in the hall for a second or two. We’re the first ones here, and I haven’t kept constant tabs on everyone back at Connor’s.

Connor is texting updates and trying not to bug the shit out of me.

I grind my teeth more than once. I’ve scraped my fingers through my hair a thousand times. I’ve impaled the walls with my fucking glares. Nothing makes me feel better. Nothing could possibly right what’s happened.

And Luna. If anything fucking happens to Luna…

I wipe a hand down my mouth, water bottles tucked under my armpit. Some nurses are staring, and I decide to head back to the ICU’s visitors’ room.

When I open the door, Lo makes no rush to straighten up and hide the raw emotion breaking his features. He’s slouched forward, forearms on his thighs, and he’s clearly been crying. He rubs a fist at his splotchy face, eyes bloodshot.

He swallows hard and stares at the floor. Like his throat is too swollen and closed, he says nothing. After shutting the door behind me, I come over, and I take the seat beside him. I set the water bottles on the vacant chair next to me, and I stare out ahead and slide an arm against his back.

Lo finally looks at me. For a long, long beat.

And I turn my head to my little brother. “What?” I breathe, staring into his broken amber eyes. “You think you’re alone or something?”

His chin quakes, and he bursts open, bawling into his hands. I hug him closer to my chest while he cries. I put a consoling hand to his head, his body heaving with agony, and I feel it ripple through me. Hot tears cascade down my face, and I look up at the ceiling.

Please let Luna survive.

Please fucking survive.

LO HASN'T SAID MUCH, but he’s stopped sobbing. His tears are on a silent stream, and I can’t sit. I lean against the counter, a coffee pot and disposable cups available for visitors. I’ve mostly been drinking water.

My adrenaline is still through the fucking roof, and I don’t need caffeine.

Moffy is the next person to appear. “Hey?” He comes into the visitors’ room, holding the hand of his nearly two-year-old boy, and Lo lifts his head a bit more to see his oldest son.

The look they exchange is of pure heartbreak, and I drop my gaze to the floor, my muscles contracting in painful bands.

“Grandpoppy Lo,” Ripley exclaims.

I lift my eyes.

Before the boy bounces over to Lo, Moffy crouches down and says, “Hey, let’s give Grandpop a sec to himself, okay?” He playfully taps the brim of Ripley’s baseball cap.

Ripley smiles and nods. Moffy rubs a thumb against Ripley’s lips, wiping off what looks like strawberry milkshake residue. To give Moffy a minute with his dad, I squat down and say, “You want to give your uncle a hug?”

Ripley is timid, until he sees it’s just me.

His lips rise. “Uncle Why.” He can’t say Ryke that well yet. It’s fucking cute. He bounds for my arms, and I lift him up on my shoulders. He giggles, and I’m careful with him, holding a hand against his back.

Moffy looks appreciative. He drops his backpack on the floor, then takes a seat beside his father.

“You…” Lo swallows again. “You hear anything about Luna?”

Moffy rubs his tensed fists, then glances at the door. “Farrow isn’t back yet, so I don’t think they’ve found her. He went looking for her with security.”

Lo hangs his head, breathing harder. Moffy puts a hand on his back, and Lo touches his son’s knee. I think he’s trying to comfort Mof, but it looks more like he’s hanging on to him.

“Can I get you anything, Dad?” Moffy asks.

“I’d…” His nose flares, eyes welling. “I’d trade anything for them.”

“I know,” Moffy whispers.

Lo pinches his eyes, then swallows and looks over at me. “I heard them…” His face twists in pain as he tells us, “I heard them…they called me while it was happening, and I heard…” He covers his mouth, then shoots to his feet, anguish all over his face.

My eyes darken, and my lips part. He heard the entire fucking thing? The car windows were smashed. Lily…Luna…

“Jesus,” Moffy mutters. “Dad…”

He tugs at the collar of his shirt, his breath irregular, shortened and sharp.

I lower Ripley down to the ground. “I can get you some oxygen.” I’m about to run for a nurse.

“No,” Lo chokes out, swallowing again. Pinching his eyes again. “I don’t need it. I don’t need it.” He’s convincing himself, but this chant sounds less about fucking oxygen.

“I’ll get it,” Moffy says, on his feet.

“No, no.” Lo rests his hands on his head. We’re all standing still, waiting for him. “I just…need a minute alone. I’m okay. I’m okay.” He’s speaking to me because I’m glaring, my muscles burning, and I don’t know if he should be left alone right now.

He twists around to the bathroom. There’s one here, in the visitors’ room, and I only exhale knowing he’s close by. When the door shuts, it’s just me, Moffy, and his son.

Moffy places Ripley on a chair and digs in the backpack, unearthing an interactive book that lights up and makes noise. Ripley takes enough interest in the book, and Moffy joins me at the coffee counter.

He removes his baseball cap, runs his fingers through his thick dark-brown hair. Same color as mine. Same color as my father’s—his grandfather.

He’s not dyeing his hair anymore. He hasn’t been for a while. He did it to look less like me, and it’d be a lie to say it didn’t fucking hurt.

Moffy watches the bathroom with deep, hardened concern.

“How are you doing?” I ask him.

His green eyes flit to me. “Fine.”

I study the sharp, toughened lines of his face. He puts his baseball cap back on, as though knowing I’m scrutinizing him too much. He won’t let me be worried about him. It’s a fucking age-old tale with my nephew.

If there is chaos, he wants to be crossed off the casualty list, even if he’s bleeding the fuck out, and I can’t fault him for that. I get wanting to help more than wanting to be helped.

“It’s on the news,” Maximoff suddenly says, his eyes flashing hot in anger. “Images of my mom. It’s on the fucking news.”

“What?” I growl out.

Maximoff is too heated to respond.

“You saw it?” I ask him. “You saw her?”

He stares off at the ground. “Yeah.” His Adam’s apple bob. “I did.”

Fucking A. “Mof—”

“I’m fine. Look, I’m just worried about my dad.”

As stoic as he is, I don’t believe he’s fine—he’s too fucking empathetic to be okay with what’s happening—but I do believe there’s only one person that’ll reach him. And it’s not me. It’s not his family. It’s going to be Farrow.

So I’m not pushing him that hard.

Maximoff watches his son tap a button on a page. It chirps like a bird. “I don’t want Xander and Kinney to see that shit on TV or online.”

I dig out my phone to text Connor, but Maximoff says he’s been talking to him. Rose and Daisy are apparently censoring all the teenagers from the news as much as fucking possible. They’re planning to bring Xander and Kinney here once Jane and Thatcher are at the Cobalt Estate to oversee everything.

I’ve already received a few texts from my daughters. Sulli is headed to the Cobalts’. Banks and Akara are with her. She’s safe. It’s a selfish feeling, and it roils my stomach. Because my brother’s daughter isn’t even accounted for.

“You want a coffee?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “No. I’m good.”

I reach out and squeeze his shoulder, but he’s tensed like I am.

Moffy intakes a sharp breath, then glances at the bathroom. “Should we check on him?”

“Yeah.” We head over there together, and I rap my fist against the door. “Lo?” I call out. “We’re coming in.” I rotate the knob, expecting it to be locked, but it turns easily.

Door swinging open, we see Lo sitting on the toilet lid, his phone cradled in his hand. He has a text message thread opened, but I’m not sure to who. He flips his phone over in his palm, his cheeks dried of tears, but pain still rests in his eyes.

He extends a hand to me.

I frown, fucking confused until he says, “I’ll take that whiskey now, big brother.”

I glare. “You mean, oxygen.”

He tries to produce a dry half-smile but it’s tortured. “It’s a joke.” He shuts his eyes, smears a hand down his face. “Sort of.”

“She’ll make it, Lo,” I tell him. “You need to keep telling yourself that they’ll both make it. And I know it’s hard…” I’ve been at a place where I believed Daisy wouldn’t survive, but I know this is so fucking different.

Lo is staring off at the bathroom titles. “I feel like I’ve died eight times tonight. I feel like if you don’t close that goddamn door, it’ll increase to nine. And I’m trying to get my shit together before they come here.”

“Who?” Moffy asks.

“Your brother and sister.” Lo is wiping his hands down his face again. “Come on. Come on. Come on.” His voice breaks.

I tell him, “They don’t have to fucking come here. They can wait. I’ll tell Dais—”

“No, they need to be here. That’s their mom. I’m not keeping them from her or from Luna—if Luna…” His chin trembles. “Jesus Christ.” Tears fall down his face again, but he looks up at Moffy. “Are you alright?” he asks him now.

“Yeah.” Moffy is taking deep breaths to control whatever’s inside him.

Lo shakes his head a ton, staring at Moffy from head-to-toe. “You fucking scare me sometimes, you know that?” He rises off the toilet lid. “I’ll be okay.” He holds Moffy’s face for a beat. “I love you, bud, and I’m sorry you have to see me like—”

“Don’t be, please.” He grips his dad’s shoulder, and they go in for a long hug, holding for an extended beat. I think they both needed that.

Lo returns to a chair. We give him some space—what he wants—and several minutes pass where Ripley keeps asking, “Daddy, where’s Papa?”

Moffy makes as many excuses as he can. Time passes, and we hear from security that they’ve found Luna. We see it on the news on our phones, but we’re not relaxed.

She’s unconscious.

“But she’s responsive?” Lo asks on the phone. They say, no. “What do you mean? What do you fucking mean?” He’s crying again.

I go back to sitting beside my brother, my arm around him.

Ripley has fallen asleep against Moffy’s chest. He’s holding him, and while standing, Moffy sways his body to keep his son from waking.

The door whips open some minutes later.

It’s Farrow.

Lo practically flies out of his seat. We both approach with Moffy.

Farrow is out of breath, in a hurry. “Maximoff?”

“I’m okay. Rip’s alright. You—”

“Also okay. Luna is here,” he answers fast, eyes pinging from his husband, son, then to me and Lo. “I can’t talk long.”

Moffy’s brows furrow. “I thought you can’t practice medicine in the hospital?” Farrow isn’t board certified.

“The administration is letting me practice in Philly General, as long as it’s only on Luna and Lily. They’re willing to risk the liability under these circumstances. The ICU and ED is understaffed tonight. I have to go.” He kisses Moffy on the lips, then nods to Lo. “I’ll let you know more as soon as I can.”

Then he’s gone.

In and out in a fucking blink, and I look to my brother. “She’s here.”

He shuts his eyes, letting those words seep in like morphine.

She’s here.

Thanks so much for reading this month's extra bonus scene! We know it was an emotional one, so we hope you brought some tissues. This moment in time in the book will always bring us to tears. We hope you liked getting more glimpses into the night and in Ryke's head.

This is the final content for the month, so you can expect all the usual goodies (bonuses and podcasts) to come next month in October. Thanks so much for being a patron!!

xoxo Krista & Becca

"The Night of the Donnellys: The During (Ryke Meadows)," Copyright © 2023 by K.B. Ritchie