Ryker (The Ride #4)

by Megan O'Brien

  I stared up at him, my eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears. “I know you did,” I rasped, praying he understood just how true those words were. How much my life was made better because of them.

  Something shifted between us. It was subtle but I could almost feel some of the anger lift as understanding began to take a fragile hold.

  Before long we were turning down my quiet street. We stood in front of my dark, depressing house, staring up at it in wonder at how different it looked in the wake of despair.

  “I don’t want to go in,” I admitted quietly. “I never do.”

  “You can give it life again, I know you can.” He nodded gruffly, staring up at the dark shape the house painted against the sky.

  I looked over at him in surprise.

  “Night, Piper.”

  “Night,” I replied, watching dumbfounded as he strode off in the direction we’d come. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, his head tipped downward.

  I felt the vines of hope wrap around my heart, and prayed they didn’t squeeze too tight and make it stop altogether.

  *****

  “Her coffee’s on me,” a deep voice stated as I stood at the register of my favorite coffee shop the next afternoon. It was right across the street from the boutique, making it an easy spot to grab a quick dose of caffeine when I needed it, which was often.

  My head swung around to face the man behind me and I had to crane my head up, he was so tall. He was also handsome in an edgy kind of way. The man exuded a don’t-fuck-with-me kind of vibe. His blond hair was shaved close to his head, making his chiseled jaw, which was lined with a thin layer of whiskers, more pronounced. He wore a Knights cut but I didn’t recognize him.

  “Uh, thanks,” I replied, as the barista handed me my coffee.

  “Don’t mention it.” He nodded, his eyes looking down at me in clear appreciation. “Piper, right?” he asked, when he’d sidled up to me as I poured creamer in my coffee.

  I looked at him, surprised that he knew who I was. “Yep.”

  “Tag,” he responded, reaching a large hand out to shake mine.

  “How do you know who I am?” I asked curiously.

  “A gorgeous girl moves into town, I have my ways of finding things out,” he replied, his mouth turning up into a panty-dropping smile. The expression completely transformed his face, making him even more handsome.

  “You have a nice smile,” I commented without thinking. I smacked a hand over my mouth, my cheeks flaming because I’d just said that out loud.

  He chuckled. “Glad you think so, babe.” He stepped closer, his large body towering over mine.

  I gulped.

  “Have dinner with me.”

  My eyes went wide and I nearly dropped the sugar in surprise. I hadn’t been expecting that. It had been a long time since a man had shown such blatant interest and in such a bold way. I couldn’t deny it was flattering.

  My thoughts went to Ryker. It seemed like we’d formed some sort of truce, albeit a fragile one. I wasn’t going to jeopardize that. Plus, my heart was still his and I didn’t have the energy lately to pretend otherwise. I’d been doing enough of that for a decade.

  “I’m flattered, but I can’t.” I shook my head.

  His brow rose in surprise and I could tell he wasn’t used to being turned down. “You got yourself a man since I asked around about you?” he asked, seeming genuinely perplexed.

  An uncontrollable laugh escaped. “It couldn’t be that I’m not attracted to you?” I demanded lightly.

  “Nope.” He shook his head with a wink.

  Well, he was charming in a cocky sort of way, I’d give him that.

  “Full of yourself,” I muttered teasingly, enjoying our banter.

  “One dinner,” he persisted.

  I looked him square in the eye. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

  He regarded me for a beat, seeming to gauge whether or not I was serious. Whatever he saw there must have confirmed it. “Okay, darlin’.” He shrugged. “You change your mind, you let me know.” He winked.

  “Will do.” I smiled, watching as he turned and strode out of the coffee house. I crossed the street back to the boutique, still shaking my head at our exchange.

  “Tag asked you out!” Ettie shrieked in surprise a few hours later. She’d popped in to the store and was helping me out.

  I nodded. “He was persistent. I had to say no more than once.”

  “Does Ryker know?”

  “Why should he have to know?” I demanded. “Why would he even care? From what everyone keeps saying, he has a harem of women keeping him occupied.”

  “Whatever you say,” she replied, trying to hide a smile behind a blouse she was folding.

  “What?” I demanded in exasperation.

  “Babe, I hate to break it to you, but all anyone has to do is be around you two for more than a minute to know that’s a line of bullshit.” She laughed. “There’s so much sexual tension it’s freaking ridiculous,” she continued. “But hey, I get it. You two have shit to sort out.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I scoffed. “We’re barely on speaking terms.”

  “Give it time.” She nodded sagely.

  “Whatever,” I muttered, looking at her like she was crazy.

  She just smiled with a shrug.

  “What?” I demanded, annoyed that I could feel myself blushing.

  She laughed. “All I’m saying is that with a few more conversations and some more time together, I wouldn’t bet against you two getting back together in, say, under a week.”

  “A week?” I demanded, incredulous, before my eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And why are you so precise on the timing?”

  She shrugged, grinning coyly. “There may or may not be a bet going between us girls.”

  “Ugh, you guys are impossible!” I exclaimed, throwing a sweater at her.

  “You love me anyway,” she replied.

  I huffed. “I do,” I admitted. “Now can we please wrap this shit up and stop talking about my nonexistent love life?”

  “For now.” She grinned with a wink.

  I was caught off guard to find my dad moving around in the kitchen when I got home that night. “Hi, Dad,” I greeted, trying not to seem too surprised that he’d emerged from his room.

  “Hi, bunny.” He surprised me by using his old pet name for me. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat at hearing it. “I’m sorry about the other night,” he apologized, not meeting my eyes. I busied myself looking in the fridge, not wanting to make an uncomfortable situation more so. “Was that Ryker I heard?” he asked, changing the subject almost immediately.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled, my appetite evaporating.

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “This was always your mother’s department,” he began, and I eyed him with surprise. It was the first time he’d voluntarily mentioned her. “But I’m a good listener.” He shrugged uneasily.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I smiled warmly, touched by the offer. “I’m fine. Things with Ryker are just…” I searched for the right word. “Confusing,” I finished lamely.

  He chuckled, the first time I’d heard the sound since my mother died. “You two.” He shook his head. “Your mother and I had bets on when you’d finally work things out.”

  “What?” I exclaimed, shocked.

  “Piper, that boy has been in love with you since the first time you dragged him home with you. I’m well aware of his reputation,” he muttered. “This is a small town. And God only knows what he does with that motorcycle club of his. But Ryker was a good boy and I know him to be a good man,” he stated firmly.

  “He doesn’t think about me like that anymore; he hates me,” I replied hoarsely.

  He offered me a sad smile. “Honey, there’s not much I’m sure of these days, but I know for damn sure that’s not true.” He reached out to grasp my shoulder briefly.

  “I know I’m just… well, not myself. I know you came back because
you felt like you had to.” He looked off to the side as my heart clenched. “But I’m a grown man. Whether or not I ever pull out of this isn’t for you to control. You deserve to be happy.”

  My eyes brimmed with tears and I bit my lip to the point of pain, willing them not to escape.

  “Thanks, Dad,” I rasped.

  He soon disappeared into his room, his brief break from his ever-present grief taking a turn and sending him back into hiding.

  It was almost harder—having the glimpse of my old dad only to have it taken away again.

  Chapter 4

  “You following me?” a familiar voice chuckled from behind me a few days later.

  I turned to face Tag in surprise. I was dropping my dad’s car off for a service on the outskirts of town. I’d had to find a new mechanic since the one I’d had most of my life wasn’t speaking to me.

  “Hey.” I smiled at Tag. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Manny here ordered some parts for me,” he replied, cocking his head toward the very cranky mechanic, who I’d just given entirely too much money to. “You need a lift?”

  “No, that’s okay, I’ll wait,” I told him, though the prospect was far from appealing.

  “I’ll give you a lift. No worries, one of Manny’s guys can drop the car off when it’s done. Can’t they, Manny?” he asked pointedly.

  His forceful comment was met with a begrudging nod and incoherent mumble.

  I shook my head. “No, it’s really okay,” I argued. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea and I was pretty sure he wasn’t offering out of the goodness of his heart.

  He chuckled as though he could read my mind. “Darlin’, you’ve been a part of the Knights’ family a long time. Just trying to be helpful. I didn’t know you and Black have the kind of history you do. It’s just a ride.”

  I looked up at him curiously, wondering just what kind of history he’d heard about. “Okay, well then, thank you,” I accepted, grateful I didn’t have to hang around with the grumpiest mechanic of all time for the afternoon.

  Tag was good company. He’d piled me into his large truck and immediately put on a metal band I’d seen live in L.A. We talked easily about music and the best shows we’d been to recently.

  When his cell rang, he put it to his ear with a gruff “Yeah?”

  I watched as his eyes instantly narrowed. “What the fuck?” He listened for a second. “No, I’m tied up right now. Yeah? Well, shit, I’ll be there in a few.”

  He looked over at me. “Sorry darlin’, gotta swing by the club. It’s on the way. Should be quick.”

  I fought the urge to visibly blanch at the thought of stopping there, forcing a nod instead.

  “You been to the club?” he asked, as we drove in that direction.

  I nodded.

  “With Ryker?” he guessed.

  “Usually.” I nodded reluctantly. “A long time ago,” I added, staring out the window as the landscape flashed by.

  We pulled up to the club—a large solitary building on the outskirts of town. The desert was its backdrop, serving as a stark kind of beauty in the midst of occasional mayhem.

  As a kid I’d thought it was the absolute coolest.

  “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he assured me, killing the engine and leaving me sitting out front as he stalked inside.

  I groaned out loud as soon as he’d left. If Ryker saw me, there was going to be hell to pay.

  I sat in the silent cab, willing the universe to afford me better luck than it had of late. Of course, my efforts went unnoticed.

  I recognized the sound of his bike instantly, chastising myself for being so attuned to him. It grew closer, rumbling to a stop somewhere to my right.

  “Please don’t see me, please don’t see me,” I chanted quietly, as he cut the engine. I could hear him walking toward the entrance to the club as I stared down at my lap, afraid to move.

  I couldn’t believe my luck when he walked right by.

  He didn’t even glance in my direction, he was so intent on his task. He walked past me, throwing the door to the club open, and stepping inside.

  I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until it rushed from my lungs in a giant sigh.

  My relief was short lived.

  It was only a few minutes before the door was again thrown open, and Ryker stood in the doorway. This time his attention was solely focused on me. His eyes cut to mine, narrowed to slits as he stalked in my direction.

  He threw open the passenger-side door, his arms braced on the frame so he could lean that much farther in. “Why the fuck are you in Tag’s truck?” he barked.

  As it always seemed to be with us, his emotion only fueled mine. “He’s giving me a ride. We ran into each other at the mechanic. Why do you care anyway?” I demanded.

  “Get your shit, let’s go,” he stated without preamble.

  I glared at him. “No.”

  “Piper, get your shit,” he growled.

  I looked up at him, feeling the familiar pounding of my heart whenever he was near. “Why?” I demanded.

  He glared at me silently, but I wanted an answer this time. Yes, I’d left Hawthorne. But after years of unanswered calls, and of ignored visits home, I had to know.

  “Why, Ryker?” I fought the pleading tone that wanted to overtake my hoarse voice. “Why shouldn’t I be in Tag’s truck, or anyone else’s? You give me an honest answer and I’ll go with you.”

  He looked back at me, the emotions clouding his features too many to name. But he didn’t speak. He couldn’t give me the answers I was looking for.

  “You can’t, can you?” I murmured, realizing we had an audience as Tag stepped toward the truck, Wes and Cole watching from the doorway.

  Well shit, I certainly didn’t need that, now did I?

  “Tag, man, you get in that truck we got problems,” Ryker growled.

  “Fuck, brother, she’s not even yours,” Tag replied, sounding more perplexed than challenging.

  Ryker ripped a hand through his hair. “Fuck!” he yelled angrily, stalking toward his bike and shoving his helmet on.

  Tag got in the truck, starting the engine seconds after Ryker had sped off, kicking up gravel as he went.

  “Fuck, woman, your shit with him is all sorts of complicated,” he muttered, backing out of the lot.

  “It didn’t used to be,” I murmured, my hands twisted in my lap.

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded. “It was beautiful once,” I admitted reverently, before I could stop myself.

  “Well shit, you feel like that, you find your way back—however you can,” his deep voice rumbled.

  If only I knew how.

  Chapter 5

  My dad came downstairs for breakfast the next morning, and despite my mood concerning Ryker, I relished the small victory. We ate in relative silence, the dogs’ nails clicking on the hardwood the loudest sound, but I’d take that if it meant my dad pulled himself out of his self-imposed prison for a short while.

  I left Hawthorne after breakfast.

  My girlfriend and former roommate from L.A, Sam, had told me about a few boutiques similar to mine off the strip in Las Vegas. I thought it would be a great way to get some pointers on how to make updates to the store. All I knew was what my mom had done, and those concepts were outdated. I need some fresh ideas.

  When Ettie called for the third time, I relented and answered as I sped down the highway.

  “Hey,” I called, using speakerphone and practically having to yell over the freeway noise.

  “Hey, where are you?” she asked.

  “Heading out of town for the night,” I replied.

  “What? Where?” she asked, sounding surprised.

  “I, um, well I’m just going to Vegas for a quick stop,” I answered vaguely, suddenly feeling guilty that I hadn’t invited her.

  The silence on the other end gave me pause.

  “Vegas?” I could hear the anxiety in her voice but couldn’t place its origin
.

  “Yeah, there are a few boutiques I want to check out,” I admitted.

  “Piper, you shouldn’t go to Las Vegas,” she replied firmly. “Turn around.”

  “What?” I responded, surprised by the vehemence in her voice. “No. Etts, it’s just for the night. I’ll be back tomorrow, we can talk then.”

  “Piper, seriously, Ryker will freak.”

  “Ugggh!” I shrieked, before trying to find some semblance of calm. “Ettie, I’ve known you a long time. I love that we’re friends again. But if I have to hear how I should worry about Ryker one more time, I’m going to pull my fucking hair out!” I exclaimed. “He’s not my father, he’s not my boss, and he sure as hell isn’t my boyfriend. I’m doing this because it might help. It’s good for the boutique. I don’t give a shit what he thinks. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I stated, then winced as I hung up.

  She’d forgive me, eventually.

  The drive felt longer than I remembered, though part of that might have been that I was praying my car made the journey.

  I arrived close to dinnertime, relieved to be out of the car. I hadn’t been to Las Vegas in years and I smiled as I strolled through the brightly lit streets letting the sights and sounds wash over me.

  It felt good to be out of Hawthorne for a short while. I needed some breathing room from all the intensity. That’s why I wasn’t disappointed when it became clear the boutiques I’d come for wouldn’t be of help. Sequins and dresses above the thigh brow were so not part of my vision for Dixie’s. Either Sam’s taste had seriously diminished, which I doubted, or they’d turned over their merchandise since she’d last been there.

  I continued to wander around, not ready to go to the hotel, and found myself at a local dive.

  The bar left something to be desired. Its low lighting somewhat succeeded in masking what I was sure was a state of complete disrepair. A small stage was lit with minimal effect; the stool provided for any would-be performers looked like it was ready to keel over. But something about the place spoke to me, so I stayed.