Chapter 659 Ryder Was a Bit Lacking
Ryder felt torn.
Standing by while someone was in danger wasn't his style. Besides, how often did a guy get the chance to play hero? But with his injured arm, could he really take on two aggressive-looking men?
What to do?
"Stop right there!" Ryder finally couldn't stand by any longer and rushed forward, positioning himself between the drunk woman and her pursuers.
"Gentlemen, this is my girlfriend," he said firmly. "Please leave us alone."
He quickly helped the woman to her feet, his eyes full of concern. "Honey, you've got it all wrong! There's nobody else, I swear. Why did you go drinking by yourself? I never said I didn't love you. Please don't be angry anymore, okay?"
The drunk woman looked up at Ryder with unfocused eyes and was about to speak when he cut her off.
"Don't say anything—I understand! I'm not mad at you. If anyone's to blame, it's me for being so handsome that you feel insecure!" He turned back to the men. "Guys, this is my wife. If there's nothing else, we'll be going now."
"What?" one of the men scoffed. "She's your wife? A pathetic delivery boy like you? Do you really think you deserve a beautiful woman like her?"
"She really is my wife," Ryder insisted. "Don't believe me? Ask her! Drunk people can't lie. Right, honey?"
Ryder moved closer to the woman, desperately trying to communicate with his facial expressions, hoping she'd catch on. He also hoped the men would back off if they thought she was married.
The woman hiccupped and looked at Ryder. "Who are you?"
"I..." Ryder winced.
The two men cracked their knuckles, ready to teach the liar a lesson.
"Sweetheart," Ryder quickly interjected, "we're in danger here! How could you drink while pregnant? This situation is terrible! Come on, let's go home!"
That stopped the men in their tracks.
"Silver Wolf Gang has rules about not harassing pregnant women," one muttered. "We'd get beaten to death for breaking that code."
Seeing his words had an effect, Ryder firmly took the woman's arm and started leading her away.
Halfway down the block, she suddenly yanked her hand free. "Who are you?" she slurred. "Where are you taking me? Help! Somebody help me!"
Ryder clutched his arm—the wound had reopened with the sudden movement. Was this woman crazy? Didn't she realize he was trying to help?
The two men, hearing her cries, quickly ran over and blocked their path.
"You little punk, trying to snatch a girl right in front of us? Do you know what happens to people who mess with the Silver Wolf Gang?"
"Why even mention our gang to him? This bottom-feeder doesn't deserve to know who we are."
One of them turned to Ryder. "Beat it! You're way out of your league trying to compete with us for women!"
They laughed triumphantly, but to their disappointment, Ryder didn't leave. Instead, he clenched his fist and pointed at the drunk woman who was now crouched on the ground, apparently counting ants.
"I'm not leaving her."
The men rolled their shoulders and loosened up. "Looking for trouble, huh? Let's show you what we're made of!"
Seeing their stance, Ryder felt a chill. These guys were clearly experienced fighters.
Rex, I miss you right now.
He shook his head. He couldn't rely on Rex to fight all his battles—he needed to be able to protect himself and others!
Since there was no avoiding this fight, he'd have to face it. After giving himself this pep talk, Ryder took a step back.
"Both of you at once? Wait, aren't you gang members? Doesn't 'the code' say you should fight one-on-one?"
If he could face them individually, he might manage to take down one and then escape with the woman. But two-on-one? He wasn't so confident.
His eyes darted around, looking for an escape route. Unfortunately, while he could probably run away himself, there was no way he could escape while dragging along a drunk woman.
"Haha, listen to this kid acting like he knows gang rules!" one man laughed arrogantly.
"Exactly!" the other chimed in.
Ryder's head throbbed. What now?
Only one option—fight and hope for the best.
With that thought, Ryder charged forward. The two men advanced as well, and they all collided in a flurry of blows.
At first, Ryder managed to hold his own. But after a few exchanges, his injured arm was bleeding again, and he was struggling to defend himself.
Finally, one of the men landed a flying kick to Ryder's stomach. He flew through the air and crashed hard onto the ground, his back and head slamming against the pavement.
Dazed and unable to get up, Ryder's vision blurred. Through the haze, he saw something unexpected:
The drunk woman was fighting both men—and her moves were lethal.
In moments, the two men were overwhelmed. Soon they were on their knees, begging for mercy.
Ryder watched the surreal scene unfold: two burly thugs kneeling before the drunk woman, kowtowing and pleading for their lives.
The woman coldly uttered a single word: "Scram." The men tucked their tails and fled.
Ryder shook his head. Was he hallucinating?
When his vision cleared, the woman was standing over him.
She brushed aside the tangled hair from her forehead, revealing her full face.
Wow.
She really was beautiful. If his wife Sarah was the type of beauty with a gentle exterior but inner strength, this woman was boldly striking. Her features radiated a commanding presence that was somehow both intimidating and magnetic.
Of course, Ryder was just making an observation. In his heart, his wife was still the most beautiful woman in the world.
The woman waved her hand in front of his face. "Are you blind?"
"What?" Ryder frowned. "I can see fine. Why?"
She raised her voice: "Then why don't you have any reaction to seeing me?"
Every other man who saw her true appearance couldn't hide their desire.
"What reaction? Were you just pretending to be drunk?"
Ryder marveled at how some women played these games.
The woman crossed her arms, assessing him. "You did okay back there. Your fighting skills need work, though."
Without offering to help him up, she walked away, disappearing from sight.
After a while, the pain subsided enough for Ryder to stand on his own.
Just then, a taxi pulled up.
The driver rolled down his window: "Was that your girlfriend back at the corner? She gave me five hundred dollars to get you home safely. Where do you live?"
Ryder's mouth twitched. It must have been the "drunk" woman. Well, he wasn't going to turn down the ride.
He gave the driver his address.
The driver slapped his thigh. "I've been waiting for a passenger who called earlier! I kept calling back but no answer. So it was you all along! What happened—fight with your girlfriend?"
Ryder could only sigh.
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