Goosebumps danced across my arms. “Emily?”
“What?” she snapped, rubbing her face—avoiding my gaze when she dropped her hands away.
That was when it hit me. The truth. “Did you write Niyol a letter while he was in prison, pretending to be someone from his club?”
She stiffened. Biting her lip. It was the only yes I needed.
“I can’t believe you would do that. He’s been a wreck, thinking someone was against him. It’s half the reason he left in the first place,” I mumbled, angry that my best friend thought it was okay to try and mess with someone’s life so much. This wasn’t her. Not at all. And if Niyol or anyone from his club found out…
I shuddered at the thought, glancing around the terminal and half-expecting a group of bikers to take her down.
She grabbed my wrist and tugged me toward Lisa and Niyol by the door. Her voice dropped to an even lower, angrier, whisper as she continued. “I was doing him a favor. Can’t you understand that? That stupid club ruins people. It nearly ruined my mom, which in turn, nearly ruined me.”
In a way, I could understand her reasoning behind it. But to make such a drastic move, one that could put her in danger at the same time?
“They’re trying to find out who did it,” I whispered back, yanking her to a stop. “Do you know what they’ll do to you if they find out it was you who sent that?”
Emily shrugged. “I’m not scared.”
I shook my head, disbelief making me look at my best friend of six years so incredibly differently now. I might not have been a fan of Niyol’s lifestyle, but I would never interfere like that. Maybe she had her reasoning beyond just protecting her stepbrother, but Niyol had his reasons to want to go back. And I respected that. She should have too.
“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for his BS about club life, and brotherhood,” she sneered.
I couldn’t respond, mostly because I had fallen for his BS. More than anything, I wanted to trust him because I was falling for him.
“Jesus, Summer.” Her shoulders drooped, as though she carried the world on them.
I took her in fully, disbelief washing over me. Not only was I going to have to keep this a secret from Niyol, but I was also going to have to try and figure out a way to keep my best friend safe.
Me. A middle-school teacher. A cheer coach. Good God.
Before I could tell her what I was thinking, Niyol was there, pressing a hand against my lower back, and Emily was off, hands tight at her side.
“Ready?” he asked, his eyes narrowed after his stepsister.
I nodded, a knot forming in my throat. “As I’ll ever be.”
Thirty-Four
Niyol
“Well, well, well… What the fuck do we have here?” Flick looked me over, a huge smirk on his face as he stood on the front steps of the Red Dragon clubhouse. His beard had grown longer than I’d remembered, as had his hair. But his eyes looked tired. Bags hung beneath them. I could only imagine the shit he’d been dealing with since I’d been in prison. But he didn’t have to do it alone anymore. I just hoped he wasn’t too pissed that I’d taken so long to come home.
Shifting back on my heels, my brothers flanking both sides of me, I tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans and nodded. “Flick.”
I hadn’t even been in town an hour before I’d Uber’d my ass here. Greeted by Slade and Archer at the gates, they’d let me right in, leading me up to where I stood now. We were a force, the three of us.
Flick motioned Slade and Archer away with his chin. They looked to me for affirmation—a ballsy move to make against their Pres. Regardless, I nodded. Flick and I needed to head this off. Alone.
“I want my cut back,” were the first words out of my mouth.
“And I’m guessing you think I should give it to you.”
My boots crunched through the gravel as I stepped closer, sending a chill down my spine. On the outside, I kept my cool, chin held high. But on the inside, my heart raced, proving my nerves were as fucked up as my current head-state.
“What do I gotta do, Flick? Tell me.” I stood before him, willing to beg if I had to.
“You ran.”
“I did.” Paid for it too, though my brothers had nothing to do with the wound on my arm.
“What makes you think I wanna give you another shot?” His left eye twitched, but otherwise, his face stayed emotionless.
“I don’t deserve it.” I dropped my head. “But I want to earn my place again. Here, as an RD.”
“And, what, you think running to my niece cross-country was how to do it?”
“No. It was stupid. But like I said, I’m ready now.”
He chuckled, the sound scary as fuck. I looked up at him again, trying to remember the man who’d once taken me fishing. Who’d been more of a father to me than my old man ever was.
“I was willing to give you that chance, boy. Before you left. You didn’t take it though.”
“Did Slade or Arch tell you—”
“’Bout that letter?”
I nodded.
“Yeah. Not a good enough excuse though.”
I swallowed, looking to my right. The gravel parking was littered with bikes and old cars, along with broken beer bottles and God only knows what else. It was proof that everyone was there tonight. Plus, the music was loud, the wide door open, welcoming, as people, brothers and groupies filtered in and out of the building.
My stomach twisted at the view and my thoughts drifted back to the kiss I’d shared with Summer outside her apartment. She’d offered to drive me home if I stayed there with her, but I knew if I did go inside, then I’d chicken out and not come here. Now, seeing the place in motion, I missed Summer already. Not sure what that meant, but knew it wasn’t good.
Could I have both worlds, though? Or would I lose both instead?
“I’m pissed, Hawk.” Flick’s voice echoed in the night, the music in the air heavy. Angry like the beat of my heart. “Not being able to trust your brothers is a pretty shitty thing in our world.”
“It wasn’t about not trusting. It was about Emily and Lisa. I could’ve put them in danger by sticking around.”
“And, what, you think leaving put them in any less danger?” He threw his hands up, then let them slap against his thighs. “We protect what’s family. And those two are just as much our fucking family as you are.”
I swallowed hard, regret heavy in my chest. He was right. My new life plan was also one of the reasons I’d left. But he’d never let me back in if I told him that.
“You assumed the worst. That’s not how this shit works round here, Hawk. And frankly, I’m fucking pissed.”
“You got every right to be.”
“Wasn’t lookin’ for your permission, boy.”
I nodded, dropping my head. The one big difference between Flick and Pops was Flick didn’t use his fists as punishment, but his words, his shame, could hurt just like a knife to the gut.
“I know I fucked up.” I shook my head. The darkness outside now matched my black boots—possibly my soul. “And I know I sure as hell don’t deserve another shot either. But if you give me one, I promise I’ll make it worth your while. I’m devoted for life.”
Keeping my eyes on the ground, I couldn’t find the guts to look at him. It was my lowest point in life, begging for reinstatement. Lower than the day I stepped into prison.
“What about my niece?”
I blinked, confused when I glanced up at him again. “Maya? What about her?”
“She doing good?” He folded his arms, gray eyebrows bunching together.
“Yeah. She’s fine.” And not for me.
“No. Not anymore she’s not fucking fine,” Flick growled. “By you leaving the way you did, going to her, you automatically brought her back into the world you were runnin’ from.”
Unease rushed through me. “What do you mean?”
“What it means, is, I’m gonna have to figure out a way to get her ass back here when
she’s settled and happy.”
“The Vegas brothers. I thought they took care of things. I didn’t think—”
“Hell the fuck no. They’re good with us, but nobody wants to go against your old man, not even behind prison bars.”
“Fuck,” I whispered, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Fuck’s, right. Your old man’s got connections all over the damn place. That small group who shot your ass were just a few fuckers the Vegas crew took care of. By leaving, ratting your old man out, you’ve caused one hell of an uprising round the country with some of our brother clubs.”
I knew it. I god damn knew it. My narking had not only ruined my shot at getting back my cut, but it’d messed up whatever shaky balance the club did have with brother clubs around the country. “What can I do?”
He shrugged. “Not a damn thing.”
I shut my eyes. So, that was it then. He didn’t want me back after all. Nodding once, I turned on the toes of my boots, even more lost than before I left.
“Hawk,” he yelled at my back. I froze but didn’t bother looking at him. “I never did like Pops. That’s the thing.” I heard Flick stepped closer.
I turned around, facing him.
“So consider yourself lucky.”
I stiffened, not expecting those words.
“We’ll take a vote on reinstatement,” he continued. “Call an emergency church meeting about what to do next. Tonight.”
Slowly, I lifted my head and looked him in the eye, trying to make sense of what I was hearing. Take a vote… As in, take a vote to let me back in?
“If your brothers decide to let you come home, it’s gonna take a hell of a lot of work on your part to make things right. All your time. Your effort. Your blood, sweat, and tears.”
A vision of Summer flashed through my head right then. Me and her in her Rover, the backseat, the Colorado sky. The tornado, her wrapped in my arms, the beach, my confession, and finally burying myself inside of her. What we had was confusing as hell already. Me, telling her my devotion was going to be fully dedicated to the club instead of her for a while, would be me doing exactly what she didn’t want. Putting her second to something else.
Still… If I wanted a life with her, I needed to fix this part of myself first. And second chances were hard to come by when it came to being a Red Dragon.
I just hoped Summer would understand that this choice was being made for us, not just me.
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” I said.
He lifted one brow. “Are you? Because you leave again, things ain’t gonna be good for you.”
“Yes. I’m fucking positive, Flick.”
Smirking, he lifted a hand, shoulders relaxing as he propped a hand along the back of my neck. “Well then. Let’s start with a drink.”
Thirty-Five
Summer
Three weeks had passed since we’d returned home.
Three very long weeks of Niyol completely shutting me out and cutting off all contact.
I’d been a fool to think that things were going to be different between us; that he was nothing like Landon, or any guy I’d been with for that matter. He would put me first. For once, someone wanted me as their top priority.
How wrong was I?
To obliterate my madness, on the eve of day twenty of not speaking to him—AKA last night—I did something that nearly broke me: I deleted his phone number from my cell.
Screw Niyol.
It was time to disregard every promise he’d made, for good.
From here until the day I went back to work, I was determined to bury my nose in lesson planning and restyling my loft apartment. Nothing said life-revamp like new furniture. My brother Caleb’s truck had just pulled up outside of my complex. He was bringing my new stuff—him and a couple of his buddies. Normally, I’d get giddy over the fact that there would be an abundance of sweaty, sexy hockey players in my place, but I wasn’t much in the mood to be sidetracked by more men.
In a rare fatherly moment, Dad had decided he wanted to do something to celebrate the start of the new school year for me, which led to the furniture spree. I think it was his guilt talking, honestly. He hadn’t bothered to swing by but once to see me since I’d returned home from my trip. It was disheartening, to say the least.
There again, that’s the way it had been my entire life, so I shouldn’t have been as upset as I was. Dad loved me to pieces, but he loved his job more. I’m not sure why I expected anything different. It’s not like he knew—or would ever know—what I’d gone through with Niyol during our trip.
What I needed was a shoulder to lean on. An occasional hug. And I needed ears and simple company most of all. Was that too much to ask? I’d already been on the phone with my grandparents three times more than I had been during the past four years. Listening to Grams talk about her crazy cat, laughing at Grandpa’s jokes… It was the perfect therapy. Until they brought up Niyol and our trip. That was usually around the time when I feigned exhaustion or a bad signal on my phone. Was it the most mature way to handle things? Absolutely not.
But I could only be so strong.
Though Emily had been keeping a healthy distance the past few weeks as well, claiming wedding-planning stuff as her excuse, she was supposed to be swinging by to help me with a little reorganization. After a long talk with her about the whole letter thing, she’d finally agreed that what she did was wrong. In turn, she’d also started to panic. I tried to reassure her that there was likely no way the Red Dragons would ever find out, even if I didn’t believe it. She wasn’t as easily convinced as I feigned to be, but what else could two twenty-four-year-olds do?
We had plans to order pizza and consume a little wine tonight. Most of all, we were going to play catch-up, talk bridesmaids’ dresses, normal stuff, even if that was the last thing I wanted to think about.
“You look like hell.” That was the greeting I received from Caleb as he barged into my apartment. He motioned to someone down the hall with a hand, and the echo of laughter and heavy footfall rumbled through the loft.
“Hi to you too.” I motioned him and the four dudes inside, the rustle of plastic sounding around my new couch.
“Nice place,” one of the guys said—Kyle, I think, his name was. He was good-looking, single, and according to Caleb, had a slight thing for me. My brother had been trying to set us up for months, claiming he was twice the man Landon ever was. What my brother didn’t realize was that my heart had in no way ever ached over Landon the way it now did over Niyol.
Still, Kyle was worth a second glance. Dark hair, blue eyes… every girl’s dream. Every girl’s dream but mine, that is.
“Thanks.” I smiled despite myself. “And thanks for helping.”
“Sure. No problem. Happy to help.” He winked at me—playful, flirty, sweet. I begged my heart to do that jumping thing it did when someone seemed interested me. But of course it stayed stagnant in my chest. I’m pretty sure Landon had paralyzed it, only for Niyol to rip it out permanently.
Regardless, I invited the guys to stay and hang out for a while, offering them beer and pizza for their services. They were nice. Surprisingly respectful too. But, sadly, they all bored me to tears.
Now there I was, mindlessly exchanging cell numbers with Kyle as he leaned against the doorframe, the last to leave, other than Caleb.
“A couple of us are hitting the downtown scene tonight. You want to join?”
I waited a breath, glancing at Caleb, who was texting and oblivious, likely chatting with his fiancé. Saying no was what I wanted to do. I wasn’t interested in the least. But memories of the road, Niyol’s dark eyes, the beach and the water and the plane… It pushed me to a place I didn’t want to be.
“Sure.” I smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I’d love to.”
He smiled so wide his eyes seemed to sparkle, and a rush of sadness forced me to hold my breath at the view. God, Niyol… I’d kill him. He was ruining me far worse than Lan
don had.
I shut the door behind them and stared at the empty pizza boxes and beer bottles left behind, realizing something. This was my life now, the way I was meant to live it. Fall for a nice guy, who didn’t call me princess. Who didn’t tease me. Who didn’t suck me into his dangerous lair for the sole purpose of living his life. I was a freaking middle-grade teacher for God’s sake. Not some biker dude’s… what had Niyol called them again? Old lady? Nooooo, thank you. Not me. No way, no how.
Still, why did it hurt to breathe so badly again?
* * *
“We’re going out tonight. I don’t want to sit around and be bored.” I looked at my best friend who sat on the other end of my new couch, a glass of Moscato in hand.
“Us? Out?” She scrunched up her nose.
“Yes. Like, we’re going to a club.”
“We haven’t done the club scene in almost two years, Summer.”
I kicked my feet out in front of me on the coffee table. “I realize that. But I’m done with sitting around and watching life pass me by, you know?”
A beat passed before she looked at me with sad, accusing eyes. “He did this to you.”
I froze, not having a good response. She was right. But admitting it wouldn’t make me feel any better.
“Don’t deny it. Stupid Niyol and his stupid motorcycle crap… God, I still can’t believe he got to you. I love him, I do, but he crossed an uncrossable line with me by messing with you.”
I flinched at her harshness. This was the first time she’d voluntarily talked about him since we’d left the airport that day. It hurt. A lot. Not just because I missed him, but because she seemed to think I was an idiot for feeling the way I did—even though a person can’t exactly always help how the heart responds. At the same time, I didn’t want to be the reason for any bad blood between her and her stepbrother. He was her family, always would be, even if they weren’t blood relatives.
Her Wild Ride: An addictive, steamy biker MC romance suspense novel Page 22