Her Wild Ride: An addictive, steamy biker MC romance suspense novel

by Van Fleet, Heather

  Twenty-Seven

  Niyol

  If I was in hell, then somebody needed to turn on the fucking light.

  But then I heard a beep. And another. Followed by the dripping of something, then whispered voices. I blinked open my eyes, déjà vu hitting me as a nurse hovered over my bed. It was just like the time I’d OD’d after partying too hard when I was sixteen, only now it wasn’t self-induced misery.

  “Jesus.” I winced as I tried to move, the back of my left arm ripping—at least it felt like it—from the place where the bullet had gone through. Every other inch of my body hurt too, probably from the fall. But I was alive. No idea how I got so lucky. Maybe the Big Guy had a special place in his heart for dickheads like me after all.

  “You’re awake,” the nurse said as she removed a blood-pressure cuff from my good arm.

  I cleared my throat, reaching for some water. “Is there a woman waiting for me?”

  The nurse held the straw to my lips. “There is. She’s right outside the room. Are you up for visitors?”

  “Yeah.” I blew out a breath, relieved Summer was okay. Just the thought of her getting hurt had my blood pressure rising, no doubt. “How long have I been out?”

  “About eight hours.” She smiled at me and set the cup on a table.

  Damn. That was a while.

  I needed Summer with me until we got to San Diego even more now, by my side at all costs. Not only so I could protect her, even in my jacked-up state, but so I could tell her how sorry I was.

  Leaving her like I did was one of the stupidest fucking things I’d ever done. Any one of those rogues could’ve shown and messed her up. Even with the Vegas brothers around, nothing would stop someone looking for vengeance.

  The nurse finished up and said she’d let her in. Squinting to ease my aching head, I looked toward the door, waiting, holding my breath. But when it finally opened, it wasn’t Summer standing there.

  “Maya?”

  With one arm folded over her stomach and her free hand at her side, she looked like she was walking toward death row—me being her executioner. It was a shit thing to do, but I found myself looking behind her, expecting Summer to be right there.

  How was Maya here and Summer wasn’t?

  “God, Hawk.” She dropped her hands and threw them around my neck like no time had passed at all.

  I winced as the pain in my arm intensified but still smiled a little despite it. “Hey, My.”

  She pressed her forehead to mine. “You’re a flipping mess.”

  “Least I’m not dead, yeah?”

  Maya groaned. “Not funny, idiot.”

  Eventually, she leaned away, holding my face between her hands. Her hazel eyes were rimmed red like she’d been crying. But the Maya I knew didn’t cry over stupid shit like me getting shot.

  She’d changed too, at least looks wise. A shit ton, actually. Taller, thinner, but rounder in all the places a woman was. I studied her, head to toe, compartmentalizing yet again. But instead of feeling that old spark we’d once shared at nineteen, all I felt was satisfaction that she seemed to be doing okay without me.

  I’d imagined this scenario before. More times than I could count. It was the one thing that got me through prison. Made me believe that I had a chance on the outside; that someone besides Emily and Lisa were waiting for me. Only now that it was happening, it didn’t feel right. Not the way I thought it would. The way I’d hoped.

  “I’ve missed you,” she finally said.

  “Nothing about me to miss,” I laughed, but then started to cough.

  She reached behind me, fluffing up my pillows. “You still smoking?”

  I winced through the pain but managed a nod.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “And you’re still good about busting my balls, I see.”

  “Eh, I’m not as bad as I used to be.” She winked, smiling for a second before sitting beside me on the bed. “Care to tell me why you’re getting shot up?”

  I shut my eyes, trying to breathe without it hurting. If this was pain on meds, I’d fucking hate to see what pain was like off them. “Rogues.”

  “Huh?”

  “Lifers on Pops’ side.” Her eyes narrowed a little, confusion there. Apparently, Flick hadn’t told her much. “Brothers who left the club and decided to take vengeance on my ass ’cause of my old man,” I clarified.

  “That stupid club.” She gave my legs a shove, then curled up next to me on the bed. Lucky she was so tiny, I barely had to move to make room. “I’m so glad you’re done with them.”

  I cringed and looked away.

  “Haaaawk?”

  “Hmm.” Still couldn’t face her.

  “Don’t you dare tell me you’re going back. Especially after this and what your dad did to you.”

  She made sense. Going back was stupid. But to me, club life was my life and ignoring it wasn’t possible, no matter how far away I ran. There was no point in starting over somewhere else when I could’ve been starting over with the RD world first.

  “Flick’s taken over.” I shrugged, trying for casual.

  “So?” she huffed, ignoring my reasoning—still the hardass even all these years later. “My uncle is an old man. He may be good to me and my mom, but he’s not gonna be able to lead a motorcycle club much longer. You know that as well as I do.”

  Another reason why I knew I had to go back. I didn’t want to be Pres. But maybe, someday, I wouldn’t have a choice.

  “Don’t be pissed at me about this,” I argued. “I had every fucking intention to leave, but what the hell would I do if I made it to Cali anyway? You would’ve grown tired of my ass mooching off you. Admit it.”

  “You could’ve gotten a job. Or gone to school and gotten your GED. Something. Anything else.”

  I touched her hand, squeezed her fingers too. “Maya. Be serious. I fucking hated school and learning new shit.”

  “I am being serious. You have loads of potential, but never had the chance to explore how much. Now you do.”

  There may have been potential in me for something, but it sure as hell wasn’t the things she’d mentioned. Plus, I didn’t have any motivation, let alone fucking patience, to follow through with anything but the only life I’d known. If only I could’ve realized that before I left Illinois.

  There again, I’d have missed out on Summer.

  Summer, who was still not there…

  I shook my head, refocused on Maya. “I have to do this. For Slade and Arch. They need me. And I want to do good by the club.”

  “And where was the club when you were getting shot up in the streets, huh?” She jumped off the bed. “I can’t believe this. All these years later, and you’re still the same idiot who lives and breathes the illegal life.”

  A tear slipped out of her eye, but she wiped it away quick with the back of her hand and started pacing the floor.

  So this new version of Maya had grown soft. Why was that? I wanted to ask, hell, I probably should’ve, but she didn’t let me, her next question catching me off guard.

  “Tell me something,” she whispered, stopping long enough to face me. “Does this have anything to do with the woman who called me?”

  “What woman?”

  “The pretty blonde who’s sitting in the waiting room, looking half dead.”

  “Summer?” Summer called Maya? Summer was here? At the hospital?

  I looked at the door again, waiting for her to pop inside.

  “Yeah. Her,” Maya continued. I could see the curiosity in her gaze, a little bit of confusion too. If she was jealous, though, she didn’t show it.

  I loved this woman in front of me like I loved Emily and Lisa. That’s it. There was nothing there otherwise. Not a flutter in my gut. No racing heart. None of the stuff I was supposed to feel. The stuff I felt with Summer.

  “It’s complicated.” To the point where I needed to finish our ride back to San Diego before I could tell her the truth I’d been holding onto. Explain that our
trip had been necessary after all, just not for the reason we both thought. If I told her that now, though, here in this hospital, she’d leave me in a heartbeat.

  Which was why I’d have to lie to her. Again.

  “Real complicated, I’m sure.” Maya rolled her eyes and sat beside me on the bed again. “As in, you got it bad for her, but she’s too goody-goody for someone like you?”

  I cringed, then rubbed a hand over my face.

  Maya pulled it away, her eyes a little sad. “If you want something like that in your life, Hawk, all you’ve got to do is treat her right. Not like you would if she was any other woman at the club.”

  “I treated you good.” I smirked.

  “You fucked me on the dirt road outside the compound when we were half buzzed on moonshine. That, Hawk, is not how a girl like your blonde deserves to be treated.”

  I shook my head, hating the memory. Not because I didn’t want it, but because it was wrong. Growing up, that’s how women around me were treated. I’d only followed through with what I was taught, even if I tried to be a little better. Now though, I knew it was wrong—refused to ever let a woman be treated as anything below perfect for the rest of my fucking life.

  “I’m sorry.” I sighed, wishing I had the right words. “You deserved better than that.”

  “We both did.” Her eyes went hazy as she stared ahead. I almost asked her what she was thinking about, but I knew her well enough to know that she held secrets tighter than I ever did.

  “Yeah.” Maybe we did. But I wouldn’t regret it.

  Maya stared at her hands, folding them on her lap. “Your girl asked me to finish driving you to San Diego, by the way.”

  “She did?” My brows shot up. Summer was gonna bail on me? No fucking way could I let that happen. Not now.

  “Yeah. Sorry, though. I’ve just got a lotta things going on right now.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.”

  She patted my cheek. “You always do.”

  The room grew quiet, other than our breathing and the machines hooked up to me. I could feel her tension against my side, though. It was all I needed to know that she was still pissed at me about going back to the club.

  “Don’t hate me, all right?” I finally pulled Maya to my chest, needing to say goodbye. It’d be hell to do so, but better for the both of us.

  “Not hate, Hawk. Always love.”

  And just like that, I knew we’d be okay, even if it wasn’t in the way I’d originally planned.

  Twenty-Eight

  Summer

  My father told me when I was thirteen that I’d forever be his baby girl no matter what age I was. He swore to protect me and love me, be with me through every good and bad experience. But now, eleven years later, I realized how little like a fairy tale my life had become. And without my dad there to hold my hand while I sat alone in a hospital waiting room, saddled with a breaking heart and a nervous brain, I felt lost.

  The door to the lobby creaked open. A nurse poked her head inside, smiling brightly with a handful of papers. “He’s ready.”

  I didn’t hesitate to follow this time, knowing what was coming.

  Goodbyes may have hurt, but the thought of not saying goodbye was unbearable.

  I’d spoken to the biker men who’d been outside my and Niyol’s hotel room the night of his accident. They’d swung by the hospital, not to check on him, but to ask if I’d seen anything suspicious. When I said I hadn’t, they then told me I needed to stay quiet about the entire situation, explaining how they’d taken care of things on their own… whatever that meant. For some reason, the Vegas motorcycle people had been adamant about keeping the police out of this whole ordeal—I hadn’t seen a single office pour in or out of Niyol’s hospital room since he’d been admitted. Nor had any officer of the law come to me. But, I wasn’t about to question it.

  In a warped way, I was kind of starting to trust those two men anyway. And, believe it or not, I was also starting to understand just how different their world was compared to mine.

  That was ultimately why I’d kept my lips sealed shut.

  During the three days Niyol had been here, I never went into his hospital room to check in. Thankfully, though, his nurses were always sweet enough to update me. But because I’d avoided Niyol, he’d blown up my phone with his millions of messages and texts. Around the million and one mark, I’d finally decided to reply with a simple text saying: I’m safe, still around, and won’t leave town until you’re discharged.

  After that, I’d turned off my phone, only turning it on to occasionally communicate with his stepmom and stepsister. I hadn’t told either Lisa or Emily what had happened. There was no point in worrying them if Niyol was going to be okay. But I did say we had gotten lost along the way, which was why we’d taken a little longer than planned.

  It seemed to satisfy Lisa, but Emily didn’t sound as convinced.

  My growing feelings for Niyol were tearing me up. At the same time, being alone the last couple of days left me with way too many what-ifs to make sense of anything else. Like, what if I would’ve gone with him the night he’d been shot? What if I’d ignored my sudden bout of emotions and become the strong woman I knew I could be instead? He might not have left the motel at all, if that was the case. Worse yet, I might have gone with him and been hurt too.

  I could be home right now, making lesson plans for cheers, creating new routines for the upcoming tryouts. Yet had I gone the safe route, stayed behind in Illinois and not agreed to this entire trip, then I never would have met Niyol… which could have been a good thing.

  Or not.

  But then Emily would have had to miss out on her cruise with Sam. And Lisa couldn’t miss any work, or she would’ve lost her job. What kind of friend would I have been if I had let those things happen? Though I had every intention of thinking selfishly, I knew it wasn’t me.

  I lived for my friends and family. Making them happy was what made me happy. Being someone’s second wasn’t all that bad, not that it mattered anymore. I’d chosen my fate, made up my mind. What-ifs did me little good in the grand scheme of things.

  I stepped out of the waiting area and walked toward Niyol’s room, mentally preparing myself for what I was about to see. Him and Maya, cozied up and ready to live out their version of a happily ever after.

  Outside his door I sucked in a breath and tapped my fingers against the wall behind me. That’s when the sound of a wheelchair and a woman’s laugh echoed into the hall. I looked over, expecting the dark-haired beauty I’d met a few days prior, but only seeing Niyol and his nurse.

  “Hey.” I bit my lip and gave him a tentative wave.

  He smiled at the sight of me, eyeing me from head to toe. For the first time since we’d met, it wasn’t a sexual look, but a look of pure relief instead.

  “Thanks for not cutting out on me, Princess.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat at his nickname, then shrugged. “Figured you needed your stuff.” I hitched his bag up on my shoulder a little higher, peering into his room at the same time. It sat empty, no Maya in sight. “Where’s Maya? I was hoping to say goodbye to her too.”

  He frowned, dark circles appearing deeper beneath his eyes. In the span of three days, Niyol looked as though he’d aged ten years. Still, his handsome, rugged face never failed to make my palms sweat. I wiped them against my shorts.

  “Gone.” He frowned at his lap.

  “Oh, um, I thought she was driving you the rest of the way to San Diego.”

  He glanced up at his nurse. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

  “Five minutes.” She tapped her imaginary watch. “I’ll use the bathroom, then I’ve got to get you pushed to the front and head back to work.”

  Nodding once, he looked from her to me, a brightness in his gaze that wasn’t there two seconds ago. “I have a favor to ask you.”

  My heart skipped like a traitorous villain. “And I may or may not have an answer.”

  He chu
ckled. “If you don’t have plans to rush home, I still need that ride to San Diego after all.”

  The breath in my chest stalled out. Or maybe I’d lost the ability to breathe at all; my lungs declaring me gone, even though my heart still beat. “What about—”

  “Maya had to get back to work.” He looked at my neck, avoiding my eyes.

  What was he not telling me?

  “Oh.” Damn it, this man. I swore to myself I could handle this—his inevitable rejection was always there in the back of my head. It was what I’d been preparing for. Yet now he’d thrown a wrench into my best-laid plans, short-circuiting my already misfiring brain.

  “Why did you call her?” he asked on a whisper.

  I didn’t have to think about my answer. “Because you love her.”

  He opened his mouth to say something in return, but I interrupted. “Maybe you should just fly the rest of the way. Or take a Greyhound. I’ll pay for the ticket if you need.” I took a step back, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “It’s only a few hours,” I continued, desperate to run—to keep distance between us before I fell even harder than I already had.

  “I can’t fly.”

  “It’s not so bad to fly, I promise. My guess is, you’ll literally be in the plane for, like—”

  “I’m not gonna fly, Summer. And I’m sure as hell not riding in a Greyhound. You are gonna finish driving me.”

  “But what if I don’t want to?”

  He lifted his hand and squeezed my elbow, lowering his voice as he said, “You have to. I need to do something there, and only you can take me.”

  “That makes zero sense,” I huffed.

  “It will. I promise you.”

  “So, what, you expect me just to be at your beck and call? Your servant and your chauffeur now? Hell, you don’t need me anymore, Niyol. Yet you keep pulling me back and I… I can’t do it. I can’t.”

  God, that hurt to say. All of it. Not because of the driving or the trip, but because my heart wanted him so badly to need me as his, like I desperately wanted to call him mine.