He grinned wider, two full dimples popping in his pale cheeks this time. He was incredibly good-looking, reminding me of Tarzan more than a biker. But he was so… so lazy. It drove me nuts, and I barely knew him.
“Nope.” He winked.
I pulled at my hair, then reached under the bar. “No?”
He nodded, watching me, his smirk falling when I pulled out something I’d seen him cradling in his arms the night before when he’d swung by my dorm to check on me.
“Well. How about I do this then?” I popped open various bottles of liquor, one after the other, drawing a few more biker eyes as I began to dump drops of the alcohol into the sink. Archer chuckled at first, probably thinking I wasn’t ballsy enough to keep this up. But after a full six-shots’ worth was dumped out, his high and mighty laugh went dark.
“Not the whiskey, Feisty. I had that delivered from home. It’s expensive as fuck.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “This stuff?” I sniffed and pointed at the bottle. The label said Redbreast. I shrugged, then began to pour it down the drain even faster.
He was up and around the bar before I could get it emptied, his stool falling to the floor with a loud crash.
I pulled the half-emptied bottle to my chest, then limped quickly around the bar. Crap. What was I doing? Granted my brain was half-fried and this was the only way I could think of getting any real answers out of anyone, but I wasn’t part of this group, hadn’t been accepted by anyone but Niyol. And oddly enough, I kind of wanted to be.
The second I moved to hide behind a table full of ginormous men, most of whom looked like they could crush watermelons with one hand alone, all of them stood in front of me, arms crossed, chins high in defense.
For me.
I did a small shimmy, grinning in success. Well, then.
Archer leaned over onto his knees, gasping for breath. Or maybe he was trying to keep himself upright? He cursed, and I winced myself, my own body throbbing, even days after the accident. Pain or not, I wasn’t ready to let this go until I got the answers I deserved.
“You going to tell me now?” I asked, hands on my hips, breathing staggered.
One of the club members in front of me looked over his shoulder and gave me a knowing nod. Something almost respectful. This guy was one of the quiet ones in the club, I’d come to know. Chop. I liked him already.
For the first time in a week, I felt the tightening in my chest ease. Maybe I wasn’t so out of line after all.
“You should tell her what we know, Arch,” Chop said. One of his arms was bigger than both my thighs combined.
“Put the baby down first,” Archer slurred, his glassy eyes never leaving mine as he pointed toward the bottle in my hand. His face had fallen, the teasing gone completely. Evil Archer was here. I should’ve known that version would make an appearance sooner or later.
“Tell me. Please. I’m…” My bottom lip quivered as the adrenaline in me crashed. “So scared.”
“Settle down, Feisty,” he said on a sigh, cradling the bottle in his hands when I turned it over. “Hawk is fine.”
My shoulders fell in relief and I followed him to a table.
“Something’s happened with Lisa, though,” he continued.
My knees grew weak, and I pressed my hands along the back of a chair for support. “Is she okay?”
He sat down, putting the bottle on his lap. “She’s taken off. Left. Charles… She took off with him in the night. Nobody knows where they—”
“She what? How is that even possible?”
Archer put his hands up in the air, opening his mouth to respond, but the front door of the clubhouse blew open, a gust of summer wind slamming it against the wall and interrupting him.
“They’re back,” Chop said, his eyes narrowed, lips pushed down into a frown.
My face grew hot, eyes stinging with unshed tears as I turned to face Archer. Ignoring me, he stood and took off, heading outside.
I pushed away from the table and hobbled after him, my feeble body protesting the movement. Just alongside the cemented road outside the front door I stopped, watching as a group of motorcycles rolled in. Relief rocketed through me, yet the closer they rode to the front, I realized that none of the riders were Niyol. Though I was certain he wasn’t in any shape to ride a bike after getting shot—again—the letdown of not seeing his face right away burned my chest.
“Where is he?” I scanned the road.
Archer stood by my side as he said, “In the car.”
That’s when I saw it. An old Buick coming through the gates. I could finally, for the first time in days, take a breath that counted.
I knew very little about any of the men here, but the solidarity they showed as the convoy of bikers and the car pulled in front of the clubhouse proved just how devoted they all were.
These men were so much more than I’d thought.
As they parked their bikes and jumped off, nobody moved to open the car’s doors. Instead, Flick and Slade came directly toward Archer and me, a two-man force, with an army at the ready behind.
“How is he?” Archer asked the man with the long gray beard—Flick. I recognized him instantly.
He paused for a second, taking me in before he finally answered. “’Bout as good as anyone who’s been shot twice in a month could be.”
Ignoring them both, I pushed through the rest of the men standing by, shoving right and left with my shoulders. Chop was there, he seemed to notice me before anyone else. He nodded in acknowledgment, then stretched his arms wide, making room for me. I smiled and mouthed Thank you just in time for the rear door of the car to open.
Breath held, I stared and waited and waited…
In the backseat, two young guys got out next, both looking no older than sixteen, followed by…
“Summer.”
Tears filled my eyes as I zeroed in on… “Niyol!”
I limped forward and slammed into Ny’s chest as he stood. He was alive. He was here. He was safe. We both were.
He let out a hiss at my tight squeeze. I jumped back and dropped my hands, fear making my lower lip wobble.
“I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“I’m tough.” He tried for a smile, reaching for my cheek. I leaned into him, feeling like I was finally home. Looking into his eyes though, I could see a type of pain that wasn’t there before. A pain which stemmed beyond just the physical kind.
“Are you okay?” I tried for gentle, my voice shaking as I stepped closer once more. This time, I reached for his hand and brought it to my mouth, kissing his palm.
His eyes closed at my touch. “I’m good. Nothing to worry about.”
“I missed you.”
He blinked open his lids, mouth opening and closing. Something was on the tip of his tongue, but a man cleared his throat from behind, reminding us we had an audience. Niyol leaned forward, kissing my ear, only to whisper, “We’ll talk tonight.”
“Church. Now,” Flick barked throughout the group of men. I swallowed and looked around, about as foreign to this world as, well… a cheer coach to a motorcycle club.
Niyol squeezed my fingers just once, bringing me back to attention. “I’ll be in your room in an hour.”
Forty-Four
Niyol
“She’s dead to us.”
Flick was the first to speak as we settled around the table. His eyes were as black as the night, bone-chilling. I’d seen a lot of angry men in my life, but nothing like this before. He looked vengeful. Like this was a personal vendetta for him, and only him, when really, this was mostly about me.
He told the room the story. How Lisa had betrayed the club by working with Charles and helping him escape. He also told them about her being my real mom—something I still couldn’t wrap my head around. A few eyes flashed my way. One or two with pity, couple more with disgust. But I ignored them all, too fucked up in the head for any words.
I leaned back in my chair, covering my face, wishing like hell we didn’t need
to have this vote at all. If only Lisa hadn’t been so stupid, left like she had, we wouldn’t have to make this damn decision. I’m not sure what the fuck was going through her mind, but I knew her well enough that there had to be a good reason for it. And my guess was, that it had everything to do with Emily.
When I was almost three years old, Lisa had left me behind with Pops, only so Emily—my sister—didn’t have to be part of club life growing up. Over and over at my bedside, just hours after I’d had surgery, she’d told me how badly she wanted to take me with her, that she had tried hard to do so. But the first time she’d attempted to run, Pops had found her, beat her, raped her… Then he threatened to kill her if she ever tried leaving again. Terrified, Lisa had called one of her friends from school, an old boyfriend or some shit like that, and the next night, when Pops had gone out on a run, that friend had come to get her; waited outside the compound gates where she’d been forced to stay until Pops got home.
She’d gone to look for me after grabbing Emily, but I was missing. Apparently my fucked-up father had hidden me somewhere that night. Then Emily started crying in her arms, and she knew it was too late. That she’d never get out of there with the both of us. So, she left with my sister, leaving me behind.
Apparently when Pops found out that she’d split, he went ballistic. Found her friend, killed him, then put a hit out on Lisa. Somehow, she’d gotten lucky though, and escaped.
But shit went down, life messing with her. She ran out of money, lost her job, got evicted from her apartment, only for her brothers to turn their backs on her too. She thought that was Pops’ doing but didn’t know for sure.
Then bam, there was me and Pops that night along the road. Karma, Lisa had called it. Now that I look back on it though, I’m guessing Pops knew exactly where she was, probably had all along. That’s also why he’d taken me with him. Not for a hooker to celebrate my patch in, but to rub it in Lisa’s face that he’d turned me into the exact man he was. Or so he thought.
Pops took one look at Emily through the car window that night, and Lisa knew she was stuck for good this time. Only good part was the fact that Pops didn’t want Emily. He just wanted the pussy Lisa could provide, anytime he wanted it.
So, she made a deal with Pops that night. If Lisa gave it over, he’d not tell us the truth and keep both her and Emily well provided for.
The rest is history, guess you could say.
Not sure why Lisa never bothered to tell me the truth. All those years she’d been back in Rockford but hadn’t said shit. Maybe she was scared of what Pops might do to her and Emily if she did. Either way, I didn’t question it. Not knowing all the answers was better right now anyway.
It was gonna take me a long time to forgive her, and I’d told her that.
But then she left, took Pops with her. Now no one knew where they were. Gone in the fucking night. Took out a few prospects in their wake. When they were found, Lisa would be treated like Pops, according to tonight’s vote. Death being the punishment.
Regardless of who she was.
“All in favor of making Lisa an enemy say Aye,” Flick continued, his upper lip curled as he stared around the room at the brothers.
Votes were tossed around, most with no hesitation until the end when it got to Archer—whose eyes had been trained on me the entire time.
“Archer,” Flick barked. “Vote. Now.”
I watched him swallow, his throat moving up and down. If he did this, he’d not only be putting a death sentence on Lisa’s head, he’d be ruining Emily’s life.
“Aye.” He looked to the table, shaking his head. His yes felt like an instant stab to my back.
He and I were best friends, but his yes was the first time he’d ever betrayed me.
In the end, the only nos were from me and Slade. Obvious reasons, no doubt. Lisa wasn’t just my stepmom now, but my blood. And for that, she was Slade’s aunt. His family too.
“Then it’s agreed. Lisa is as good as dead.”
I couldn’t listen to anymore, so got up quietly from my seat and left the room.
Nobody followed. Not that I was surprised.
As I walked through the nearly empty clubhouse toward the dorms, I kept my head down, laser-focused on one thought: Get to Summer. But even as I stood outside her door, I couldn’t go in right away. Instead, I settled my head against the wood, praying like hell that what awaited inside was a woman who wouldn’t push me away.
I couldn’t take anymore fucking heartache. Not tonight. Not ever. Pushing through the door, I sucked in a quick breath at what I saw. Dressed in only a white t-shirt and her panties, Summer’s sleeping body. Laid out on her stomach, a blanket covering only her ass. The shirt she had on rode up high, showing her lily-white skin. I moved closer, until I stood beside her, knees touching the edge of the mattress, wishing I could stop time. Stay here with her, like this, forever.
Restless, Summer’s face grew tormented as she whispered in her sleep, No, no, no, stop, please.
I reached down and ran my fingers over her cheek. She jerked at my touch, eyes blinking awake. The bruises on her face nearly killed me; made me want to punch a fucking wall.
“Niyol?” she whispered, slowly sitting up.
I nodded, not able to say shit for fear I’d break down. Seeing her there made me wanna do just that. Did she hate me because I’d gotten her involved in everything that was my fucked-up world? She’d been so unsure before this all went down, and now I had this horrible feeling in my gut that she wouldn’t wanna be part of my life anymore at all. And because I felt the way I did, because I’d fallen fucking hard for her, I wouldn’t ask her to stay. Not anymore. She deserved better than my world. Better than me.
“Hey, you.” She reached up and touched my chin with her fingers, tracing my jawline. “I’m right here. Don’t be afraid.”
I swallowed hard, wondering how she knew… feeling more than I ever thought I could for a woman at the same time. Maya was fleeting, a big picture in my mind that I’d built up over the years. Summer, though, was endless. A forever I wanted so bad I could taste it.
“I tried to stay awake.” She bit her bottom lip.
I traced her cheekbones, the side of her nose, every curve, every inch… remembering, in case this was it.
“Sorry. It took longer than we thought.”
“It’s okay. I knew you’d come this time.”
My stomach hurled, had me damn near losing my lunch. This time. This. Time. She didn’t think I’d find her at the cabin. She thought I’d given up.
“I’m sorry…” I breathed, dropping to my knees, placing my head against hers. I wrapped my arms around her calves, begging silently for her forgiveness. “So fucking sorry for everything.”
She cradled my face between her hands, urging me to look at her. “Don’t apologize,” she said on a whisper. “Don’t ever apologize. Just be with me. That’s all I want.”
I nodded, slowly standing, though it hurt to do so. She patted the bed beside her and I took a seat, no idea where to put my hands—knowing at the same time where I wanted them.
Summer took the initiative, though. Her fingers, so cold against my stomach, unbuttoned my jeans, and slipped them down to my ankles. Leaning over, she pressed a small kiss to the underside of my cock, causing a groan to rip through my throat. With her tongue, she played with the small bar beneath, tickling, touching, exploring. Before I could beg to be inside of her, she reached behind me and grabbed a condom from under her pillow, tearing it open, then slipping it on.
She’d wanted this to happen. She’d planned it.
Relief and need washed over me as she took off her panties and carefully straddled my lap. “Against the wall, Niyol,” she urged with a small tap against my shoulders. I did as she asked, hissing the entire time in pain, but she didn’t make me stop. Didn’t ask me if I was hurting. Didn’t even attempt to slide off of me. For that, I was thankful. Because I needed the pain to remind me that with it, pleasure would follow.
/> When I was finally in position, she ran her palms over my chest, my neck. Then, before I could breathe her name, she sank over the top of my cock with a long, whispered moan.
“Summer, baby…” My head fell to the side in sweet agony as she moved. My chest hurt, the position pulling at my shoulder against the wall, but her beautiful body rubbing against mine was the only remedy I needed for the pain.
She didn’t stop moving, her hips going slow, as she rolled her pussy up and over my cock. Her heavy eyes watched my every move through half-closed lids, under the shadow of her hair. She needed this as much as I did. Pink, parted lips just barely grazed over mine, a silent admission that told me all I needed to know.
Summer wasn’t going to let me go.
Her fingers never left my face or hair and she worked my body like she owned every piece of me. Which she did.
All of me.
Forever.
I touched her breasts, fingers spread wide, cock aching with pleasure as her pussy surrounded it whole. I was already so close.
The tip of her tongue trailed up and down my neck when she leaned over, alternating with her lips that kissed and sucked and played. Sweat collected at my temples, but I refused to wipe it away. I needed to feel this moment in all the fucking ways I could.
Wanting nothing more than to taste her again, I grabbed the sides of her head bringing her mouth back level with mine.
“Kiss me,” I begged. And Jesus, did she ever.
Minutes later, I came with a growl, calling out her name and barely able to hold out as she followed me with a cry. I should’ve been embarrassed for blowing my load so soon, but the pain running through my body was damn near explosive. I was lucky I made it as long as I did.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked, pulling off me. I reached down, grabbed the condom, and shoved it back inside the wrapper.
I leaned forward just enough to kiss her forehead, barely able to catch my breath as I dropped the foil packet into the garbage by the bed.
“No. You gave me everything I needed.”
With a small smile, she kissed my cheek, then stood and reached for the bottom of my shirt. Slowly, she brought it up and over my head, careful of my wound. She peered down at my bandage, her hands trailing over my arms, my shoulders, goosebumps forming under her touch. With ease, she tugged the white gauze back, and I heard her breath catch the second she saw the bullet hole.
Her Wild Ride: An addictive, steamy biker MC romance suspense novel Page 28