Ride Hard: Deadly Scorpions MC

by Snow, Jenika

  It pisses me off that I can’t do anything other than sit here and wait, but that’s it. If she does set me free, will I truly agree to her deal? I’ll definitely help her hide the body, but letting her go? I’m not sure I want to do that. If there was ever anyone who needed someone to take care of her, it’s this girl. The question is, will I try to step up and be that person?

  What in the fuck am I going to do with her?

  Chapter Eleven

  Langley

  My hands are shaking and my heart is racing as I walk down the hallway and toward the bedroom, where I’ve left Einstein. I feel like I’m going to pass out as a reach out and place a hand on the wall, steadying myself, stopping for a second to get my bearings.

  My mind is a jumbled mess, thoughts and actions, worries and fears racing around inside me, chaos ensuing. I can hear Mama’s machine beeping, and the fact that she’s unaware of any of what’s going on calms me momentarily.

  “You got this. Just get the damn key and go back down there. He can help you. He can help you clean this mess up.”

  I take a deep breath in and exhale it out slowly before I start moving again. And then I step into the bedroom. I don’t know what I expect to see, maybe Einstein no longer lying there, the idea I have killed him just a figment of my imagination. But he’s there, his lifeless body unmoving, blood pooling, becoming cold and thick around his head.

  I feel like I’m going to throw up, and I clutch my stomach, but there’s no time to be weak right now. I have to be strong for me and Mama. I have to be strong so we can get through this.

  I exhale once more and walk over to where he’s lying.

  His eyes are open as he stares at the ceiling, his pupils dilated. God, were his eyes closed before I left? Have they always been like that? Is that what happens when someone dies?

  All these questions race through my mind. I shake my head to push them away. God, I’m going to throw up.

  I get down on my knees and start rifling through his pockets but come up empty. I curse internally and lean back on my heels, staring at him and then seeing a glint of silver around his neck. I push his shirt down and see he’s wearing a chain, and as I pull it up, I’m praying like hell there’s a key attached to the end of it.

  And then I see the tiny key that no doubt goes to the lock.

  Using all the strength I can muster, I rip the chain from around his neck and haul ass back downstairs. The biker is still sitting against the wall, his body seemingly calm and collected, his expression stoic. I wonder what he’s thinking, if he’ll hurt me as soon as I unlock him, kill me.

  But as I look at him, there’s something inside me that tells me I can trust him. And God help me for feeling like that.

  I’m in front of him a second later, on my knees and reaching out with shaky hands to put the key inside the lock. With a flick of my wrist, the lock is disengaged. I should’ve stumbled back, gotten as far away from him as I can, but instead, I’m rooted in place, staring into his dark eyes, wondering what his next move will be.

  Slowly, he pulls the chain away from him, freeing himself fully. The metal drops to the ground with a resounding thunk and then he slowly stands, his big body unfurling from the ground. My heart races, and my breath stalls in my chest.

  I try to move but stumble over my own feet and fall back on my ass. As I sit here with my knees bent, my hands braced on the cold cement behind me, all I can do is crane my neck and look into his face.

  He is fully standing now, his entire body intimidating, his strength and power undeniable and immense. God, did I just make the worst mistake ever?

  He takes a step toward me, but I am still frozen in place, too scared to move.

  “Show me where the body is and let’s get this taken care of.”

  And just like that, I relax, and maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ride

  “What do people call you?” I ask the girl, trying to distract her.

  My men had gotten here a little over an hour ago and took the body away. Now, there are a few club girls in there cleaning shit up. The more I see of this place, the more I have to wonder how the girl lived here. Fuck, it’s so bad; surviving is all she’s done.

  And then there’s the old lady. She’s in bad shape too. Langley isn’t going to like me for what happens next, but it needs to happen. I probably need my fucking head examined, but I’m going to step in and do it. This girl needs someone to save her. She’s drowning. I don’t know why I’ve decided that someone needs to be me… but I have.

  “Call me?”

  “Yeah. A nickname?”

  “I told you. My name is Langley,” she says, her eyes still round and wide, no doubt from shock. I knew her name, because she’s answered every question I asked her, and I asked her plenty. Although they were mostly nonsensical ones to distract her.

  And I know she’s needed those inconsequential questions to keep her mind off all the other bullshit moving around right now, because she’s clung to my side, actually grabbed my arm on one occasion, her nails biting into my flesh when my men showed up. It’s like she saw me as a lifeline.

  I admit my fellow patches can be scary motherfuckers, but then I’m worse. Langley doesn’t seem to notice that. Maybe she’s decided I’m her savior or something. What she’ll come to learn is that I’m a far cry from that shit, but I am going to try to be that for her.

  And again, I don’t fucking know why.

  “Fine. I’ll call you Lee.”

  “Lee?” she asks.

  “You got a problem with that? I’m not going to call you Langley every single time I need your damn attention. It’s either Lee or girl. Take your pick.”

  “I don’t know why you would need to call me anything. It’s not like we will see each other again after today,” she says so matter-of-factly it pisses me off.

  I frown at her. Most women aren’t in such a fucking hurry to get rid of me. She’s just a girl, so damn young. Maybe that’s why, but it’s still a fucking blow to a man’s ego.

  “Ride, baby, we got the room cleaned. Bonzo used the bleach like you asked and it looks good—well, as good as this hellhole can get,” Dessie says, coming up from behind me, sliding into my lap without warning. She’s club candy and one of the good ones. Normally, I like any attention she gives me, but with Langley staring at me, it feels wrong. Maybe she’s too young to see what happens between a man and a woman. No, she’s definitely old enough for that, but she doesn’t need to see that shit with everything she’s gone through today. Or maybe I don’t want her seeing this kind of obscene shit, because she’s latched her claws deep into me and is making me feel… things I’d rather not.

  Either way, I carefully help Dessie off my lap.

  Langley is too young for me, and she has trouble written all over her—and not the good kind of trouble.

  “Go in the old woman’s room and help Tub and Audrey get her ready to go, Des.”

  “Okay,” she replies, looking at me strangely. Her eyes go to the girl and then back to me. There’s a question in her gaze, but I ignore it. It’s not her place to question anything, and hell if I know what’s going on myself.

  “She your girlfriend or something?” Langley asks once Dessie leaves, and maybe it’s my imagination, but she seems irritated asking the question. Is she jealous? I like the idea of that, even if I shouldn’t.

  “Or something,” I mutter, not getting into or explaining the fact that Dessie is club candy and what her role is. “You need to go get cleaned up,” I tell her, frowning at the threadbare clothes she has on. I’ll have to get her some new shit. Girls need that crap for school. Fuck me… is she in school?

  “Why?” she asks, but my mind has already traveled in another direction.

  “Are you in school?” I ask again.

  “What?” she asks, blinking like I’m insane, and hell, I just might be.

  “Are you in school?”

  Her eyes widen before
she pulls her brows down low in confusion. “Like high school? I’m twenty-one,” she says, and shock pushes through me.

  I didn’t expect that. She seems younger, but I’m glad as fuck she’s at least legal. Although that shouldn’t matter, because I shouldn’t want anything to do with her.

  I’m fifteen years older than her. That’s a fuck of a lot. That bothers me and pisses me off at the same time, and because of that, my voice is harsher than intended.

  “Go get cleaned up,” I snap.

  “Why?”

  “Because people can see your tits despite my cut you’re wearing.” I stare at her hard. “And you have blood on your face,” I tell her, not bothering to be nice. Her body goes solid. I can literally see the way her muscles tighten up from my words. She clutches my cut tighter around her, and fuck I shouldn’t like that she’s wearing it. The truth is, I mostly lied. You can’t really see her tits now that she has my leather covering her, but I know she’s exposed under that shirt she’s passing off as a nightgown, and I don’t like it, especially with my men all wandering around in here.

  “I-I’ll….” she stutters and takes a deep breath, lifting her eyes from where she was looking at the ground, and stares right at me.

  I can see she’s trembling, but her voice is steady and she’s doing her best to not appear weak. I respect that. This girl may not have much, but she definitely has grit.

  “I’ll be right back,” she murmurs, and I let her go. I wonder if she’s going to give me shit when she gets back in here.

  The ambulance should be here shortly. I told Tub to call it once the men cleaned the room and rid the place of any sign of Einstein. I pulled a few strings and got the old lady a bed in a rehab facility. I’m no doctor, but it’s pretty clear she needs trained help. Langley can’t do it. I know she works, and there’s no way she can be the old woman’s caregiver too.

  Besides, I have plans for the girl, ones that will take up all of her time.

  Yeah, I’m definitely stepping in to save the girl, but I doubt she’ll thank me for it. In fact, she’s going to hate me when I move her into my club, but I’m still doing it.

  Because I’m a fucking idiot.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Langley

  I stand at the door and watch as the ambulance takes Mama away. I’m holding back my tears despite the fact that I know this is the best course of action for her.

  As much as I cared for her this whole time, she needs so much more, more than I can ever give her. I have no medical background, and it has been nearly impossible to get any kind of assistance for her, to get anybody out here to help with her care.

  I cover my mouth with my hands as I watch them close the ambulance backdoor. That’s it. She’s gone. But not forever. I’ll visit her, let her know I’m still here with her.

  Thankfully, she’s out of it and doesn’t know what’s happening. If she’d been with it, no doubt she’d probably curse at the paramedics to get their damn hands off her. That would make me smile if I didn’t feel so overwhelmed.

  Once the ambulance drives off, I stand here staring at the handful of bikers. There are Harleys lined up on the side of the road, and a couple SUVs, which I assume are for the women who’d come with them.

  Ride called them club candy, and although I don’t know MC terminology, it doesn’t take a genius to understand what that means.

  Ride is a few feet away speaking with a couple guys, but I notice he keeps looking at me. He is so much bigger than everyone else, tall and muscular, the air around him powerful and authoritative.

  When I set him free and we found ourselves in the room looking down at Einstein, he’d asked for a cell phone. Then he called up his crew. The truth is, I thought they’d kill me as soon as they showed up, but instead, they cleaned up the body, got rid of the blood, and here we are, my future looking so different than I ever thought it would.

  I never even imagined I’d get away from Einstein, not until he overdosed, he killed me, or Mama passed away.

  Those had been my only options for getting out of this shithole.

  Ride comes over to me, this hard look on his face, which I am starting to understand is just how he appears. He’s the leader of this club, this motorcycle gang or whatever they call themselves. And it’s clear the authority that comes from him, the respect these men and even the women have for him, is practically tangible.

  He stops a few feet for me, and despite the fact that I’m standing two steps above him on the small front porch landing, he’s still taller than I am.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “You had no reason to help me, but you did.” I really want to cry, not just because Mama is gone, not just because everything has gone shit side up, but because I am scared. I’m nervous and frightened and don’t know what to expect. “I’m sorry about everything Einstein did to you.” I swallow roughly. “I’ll be on my way. I won’t bother you ever again.”

  “Sweetheart,” he says, and the corner of his lip turns up. Something in my belly twists at the sight of that smirk. “Did you think I did this expecting nothing in return?”

  My heart starts racing double-time and I swallow again, my throat so tight I think I’m choking for a minute. I run my palms up and down my thighs, my skin suddenly sweaty, my nerves working overtime. “What do you mean?” My voice is so low it’s barely audible, but when he smiles wider, I know he’s heard me.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he says and takes a step closer, his chest almost brushing against mine. “I’m not a good man. I’m as bad as they fucking come. Not counting the fact that I was chained up in your basement, I just did you a solid, a big fucking one, in fact.”

  Fear takes hold of me and I hold my breath, knowing where this is going, but unable to say a word, unable to stop it.

  “I helped you out. Oh yeah, sweetheart, you fucking owe me.”

  I lick my lips, the flesh suddenly dry, my tongue feeling so thick I don’t think I can actually say any words.

  “I don’t have any money,” I whisper, my tears overflowing my eyes now, slipping down my cheeks. I reach up and angrily brush them away, pissed at myself for giving him the satisfaction of watching me break down, of seeing me weak. “I have nothing to offer. I have nothing.” I emphasize that last part and stare into his icy, dark eyes.

  I hate myself for feeling any kind of attraction to him. He’s evil, degraded, but he’s right—I do owe him. If not for him, the police would already be here and I’d be thrown in the back of a cruiser, being hauled away to jail. It didn’t matter if it was self-defense. I killed a man. So yes, I do owe Ride a hell of a lot.

  I wipe more tears away and take a deep breath before exhaling it out slowly.

  “Langley,” he says softly, his voice deep, husky. “It’s not money I want, baby.”

  My heart speeds up at the tone of his words, as I think about what he means.

  I know what he means.

  No, it’s not money he wants.

  “I want you.” And then he smirks again as if cementing the deal.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ride

  I watch as Langley’s pupils dilate, her eyes still shimmering with tears. She’s taking off my cut, handing it to me, but she stops before her arm is fully outstretched. It’s as if she finally takes in my words.

  I feel like a fucking asshole for baiting her, but she makes it too damn easy. I count as the seconds tick by, maybe three heartbeats at the most. Then, it’s as if a hard outer shell slides over her pretty face. I don’t like it, but I grudgingly respect it.

  “Now?” she asks, her voice shaking but devoid of emotion.

  Fuck, she sounds like she’s getting ready to face a damn firing squad. If that’s not a blow to a man’s ego, I don’t know what the hell is.

  “And if I said yes?” I ask, taunting her.

  She doesn’t say anything for long seconds. Finally, she responds, “They have to leave.” I see her look over my shoulder at my men and the ladies.

  The
temptation is strong to take her up on the offer, to show her that she would enjoy fucking me. Hell, maybe even beg for more. I don’t want her like this, however. I don’t want her scared and nervous. I shouldn’t want her at all, but I have to admit I do. I don’t lie to myself, ever, so there’s no point in doing it now.

  Langley is under my skin, and I know there’s no way I can forget about her. I also want to help her. For some reason, this woman—and at twenty-one, she is a woman—had made me feel something I’ve never felt before. I find myself needing to take care of her, to make sure she isn’t forced to eat the shit life can dish, like she has her whole life. I want to make things better for her. I want to make her smile so the haunted look in her eyes disappears.

  “That’s not how this works, Lee. And I’m the one who will give the orders, baby. Not you,” I tell her, taking my cut from her and putting it over her shoulders again, wanting her to wear my clothing. She can get cleaned up at my place instead. It makes me feel all possessive. She slides her arms through the sleeves like she’s a robot. Heck, maybe she’s in shock, because she doesn’t fight putting it back on. I like the idea of her wearing it. I want her wearing it, and I’m not going to question that right now.

  “My name is Langley,” she mutters.

  “I know. And that’s the name I’ll use when you’re a good girl,” I tell her with a grin, feeling my cock jerk at the thought of her being a very good girl for me. My men hear me, because I hear them laughing in the background. And that pisses me off. I don’t want anyone thinking about Langley in a sexual way. No one but me.

  “Good girl? You make me sound like a dog.” She huffs out the words, her arms folded at her chest, clearly put out with me. But a part of me thinks she’s got her arms in that position, because she’s trying to crawl into herself, make herself appear smaller.