by Ryan Michele
The tension in the room gets thick, so much so that the hair on my arms raise. It makes me wonder how often Ryker has an opinion that the guys don’t like and if they’re tired of his shit.
“Fine, but I get a shot when we figure out what the fuck’s goin’ on.”
Cooper chuckles behind me, and I wonder what the “shot” means. A bullet? I don’t want to know.
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t know any of this was going down. My brother told me yesterday that I was in danger and laid all this at my feet. I haven’t had a chance to process it all, and I sure as hell didn’t want to get any of you involved.”
This has turned into a bigger mess than I ever imagined. Way too much going on and way too many variables at play. Not to mention, if Cooper gets hurt, I may lose my shit.
“Shit happens. We roll with it,” Rhys says with a slight grin, catching me totally off guard. Who knew the scary man could actually smile?
“Beautiful,” Cooper says, and I turn toward him. “Meant what I told you in the parkin’ lot. You’re mine. I take care of mine. No matter what the problem, I’ll fix it. You’re Ravage now, and we don’t back down.”
I turn in his arms fully and wrap my arms around his neck. Never would I have thought a stupid phone call from a customer at the laundromat would lead to this.
Squeezing him hard, I whisper, “I’m not moving in with you. I’m getting my own place.”
To that, he laughs. “We’ll see.”
“Sorry to break this up.” Cruz coughs on a chuckle. “Got shit to do.”
Pulling away from Cooper, my heart squeezes for the man in front of me. Who would’ve thought?
Cooper lays a kiss on my lips as the guys leave the room. “Gotta go. Two of them will be in here with you, one outside.”
“Do you really think it’s that bad?”
“Don’t give a fuck if a rabbit hops by your door, beautiful. These men will protect you with their life.”
“Or from an unsuspecting bunny.”
He laughs. “Or that. Hopefully, when we’re done here, we can get the fuck out of this town.”
My heart sinks a little. I thought we would spend some time together alone.
Listen to me. All this shit going down, and I’m thinking of myself? Stupid.
“Sounds good.”
He leans down to my ear. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.”
Between my legs tingles as the warmth from his breath caresses me.
“You do, huh?”
Cooper pulls away and puts his lips to mine, stealing my breath.
“Be back.”
The door closes. You’d better.
“I’m on outside first,” Derek says, moving toward the door. “You kids play nice now.” His words are directed at Ryker.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Ryker grabs the remote to the television and throws his body on one of the two beds in the room. “Might as well catch up on Judge Judy.”
The other guy, who I haven’t been introduced to, but they called him Jacks, burst out laughing. “No wonder you don’t have a woman. Judy? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Jacks moves to the table, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
“She’s gotta sharp tongue,” Ryker responds as he flips through the channels. He has dark hair, dark eyes, and tattoos all over his arms and neck.
“One that’ll bite your dick off.”
“I bet it’ll hurt so good,” Ryker groans.
“You’re fuckin’ nuts.”
Jacks and Ryker carry on as if I’m not even in the room, and I kind of like it. With everything going on, they aren’t giving me anything heavy. Instead, they are lightening the mood. I appreciate that.
“What about Judge Joe Brown?” I ask, sitting down on the empty bed, my back to the headboard.
“He’s off,” Ryker says, still flipping. “He got into some legal shit. Jail or banned or something.”
This surprises me. I swear I just watched his show the other day. Maybe it was a rerun.
“Really?”
“Yep.”
Ryker finds Judge Judy, and we watch her kick ass.
18
Cooper
“This is what we know,” Buzz starts, holding his laptop as we meet in Pops’ room. Bristyl is only a few doors down, and I can feel the pull to go to her. Strange, yet not. “The restaurant has a back room. There are two exits. One through the main dining area, the other through the back. Cameras don’t show anything, but we all know how well that goes.” He’s referring to when I was a kid. The brothers told me all about the asshole who shot my mother and tried to take my grandmother. He pulled some pretty twisted shit back then, but he’s six feet under now.
“Why, again, are we doin’ this shit in a restaurant full of people?” Rhys asks, stretching his arms behind his back. Damn man is still built like a brick shithouse.
“So, we don’t kill them on contact,” I throw in, pissed at Poe asshole for hurting Bristyl. He’ll be lucky if I keep my gun in its holster and don’t blow a hole through his head.
“This shit’s peaceful. Just a chat to get shit straight. We don’t know what the Red Devils have to do with Sinisters, and we don’t give a fuck,” Pops says. “We get in there, do our shit, and get out. Then we deal with the rest.”
We ride out and head to meet the Red Devils.
The restaurant is glowing with lights bursting in every direction. Large windows allow the florescent to glow outside, even though it’s still bright outside from the sun. Hell, not even my shades are blocking out this much illumination.
People sit in checkered, black and white booths, with shiny blue tables. Five tables are occupied and, counting the drinks at the tables, there are eight people sitting at them. There are nine cars in the lot and seven bikes. Two waitresses could possibly account for two of the cars, making seven cars accounted for. That leaves two.
A brunette waitress yells out at us to take a seat over by the windows, but we don’t listen. Instead, we follow Pops as he leads the way toward the back room. As we go, I clock two people at the grill, getting all my cars in order. Now for the seven bikes.
The hallway leading to the back room isn’t as bright as the front, but once we enter the back room, we are bathed in light again.
I clock Poe right off with a smug as fuck look on his face. Next to him is Nick and Len, the other two who were at the rally. We’ve met the president, Scandal, before. He’s older, long beard that he combs straight down, and no hair on top of his head whatsoever. With his stern eyes, most people would be nervous. Not us, we’re Ravage. No one fucks with Ravage.
Five other men are in the room. Two of whom I’ve seen before, three I have not. When we met with Scandal a few years ago, I was just patching in. It was him and two others.
“Pops,” Scandal calls out, rising from the long table he sits behind.
His five guys sit beside him, while Nick, Poe, and Len stand behind them. There are seats, so some of the guys take them. I prefer to stand, my father next to me.
My blood hums in my veins as the thought of the mark on Bristyl’s leg comes to mind. Even only seeing it when it was red and fresh, there’s no doubt in my mind that she had a huge bruise from the fucker.
“Scandal.” Pops takes the proffered hand.
Greetings and introductions ensue. Once Scandal introduces Poe and his smile turns cocky, my gut screams for me to put him in his place, or six feet under, whichever comes first.
“Seems we have problems with you boys steppin’ in on our business,” Scandal begins.
I barely catch myself from speaking, not that I can’t, but it’s better to listen first, react later. Think smart, always. These types of meetings, it’s best to let Pops talk.
“Bristyl is our business.”
“Since when? When you stepped into somethin’ you shouldn’t have?” Scandal retorts.
My nails dig into my palms.
“She’s Cooper’s. Already put a claim on her.�
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Scandal’s eyes lift to mine, no doubt remembering me. My hair was short then, and my body was not as built, but he’s a smart man. Otherwise, he shouldn’t be running a club.
“Is that so? Poe here says that he has claim on her.”
Poe takes a step forward, placing himself right behind Scandal.
Pops looks back to me. “Well?” he invites. I don’t need anything else.
“She’s mine. You touch her, breathe on her, look at her—fuck, come within a mile of her—I’ll end you.” My eyes stay focused on Poe as he cracks his neck in some sort of intimidation move. Sorry, buddy, that shit doesn’t work with me.
“I saw her first,” he says.
I want to ask him how old we are, but again, I wait.
I need to punch him, though. The need to take this motherfucker out is growing so fucking strong, but playing it smooth is my game.
“Not playin’ this pissin’ match. Looks like you have a problem because she’s in my bed and not yours. You don’t want to take it, that’s your problem.”
Poe takes a step forward and leans into the table. “It is your fuckin’ problem. I’ll destroy you.”
My lips tip, but I don’t take the bait.
“Tell me what the fuck is really going on here?” Pops speaks when I don’t. “Cut the bullshit. What does Sinisters have on you that you went to such lengths to keep it from them. I know this fuckin’ place isn’t that big. I know what goes on in Florida, so don’t tell me there isn’t somethin’ goin’ the fuck on. Get real and get real fast,” Pops warns.
“I want Bristyl in the fold,” Scandal says. “But from the look of your boy, that isn’t goin’ happen without some serious bad blood between us. That’s somethin’ I’m not willin’ to fuck with.” He looks up at Poe. “It’s done.”
“The fuck it’s done!” Poe barks back.
Surprised? Fuck yeah. Pops would have already had a bullet in my foot, then said, “Son, you’ve got another one, use it.”
“You said she was mine. I’m taking it.”
Scandal rises from his chair, fury thumping in his features, along with a tick of his jaw. “I fuckin’ said it’s done. You back the fuck down!”
“Best way to settle this shit is man to man. Ravage isn’t afraid to shed blood. But to spare both clubs, let’s have them settle this once and for all, like men—fighting,” Pops says. “Cooper and Poe, one on one. No weapons, only their bodies. Last man standing wins.”
“I’ll beat the fuck out of him, but it’s not for my woman. It’s because you’re a piece of shit.”
My father drops his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Son, just do what the fuck Pops says so we can get the hell out of here and home.”
I shrug, always up for a good fight. Poe’s a stocky sonofabitch and no doubt uses that to go in low. He’s a piece of cake.
“Just so we’re clear, this is for that dick putting his hands on my woman.” I pull off my cut, my gun holster, and my T-shirt, handing it all to my father.
Lean fighting machine, that’s what my mother has told me. I love the ease of a gun, but using my body is so much more fun. The blood on impact, crack of bone—all if it spikes my adrenaline, adding fuel to my fire.
“Let’s do this,” I tell the group of men who’ve started moving tables out of the center of the room and up against the walls.
The floors are a white marble and will be stained with blood very soon. I need to keep a tab on my feet so I don’t slip, but with my boots, it should be good.
Poe takes off his cut, gun, and shirt, giving them to Nick.
Lifting my chin to Nick, I say, “You want some next, it’ll be my pleasure. Don’t ever go near Leah again.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you right back.”
“Go near Leah, and I’ll kill you myself,” Green says from the sidelines, his words dripping venom. It surprises me because he normally stays pretty quiet. He’s more of a silent but deadly person.
Nick’s focus goes to Green. “Try it.”
“It’s not a threat. It’s a given.”
Nick huffs and moves away.
Poe makes a stupid-ass production of stretching and cracking different parts of his body. I move to the center and stand there, waiting.
“Is the bitch done dancin’?” Rhys calls from behind me with a chuckle. “Let’s get this shit done. I’ve gotta ol’ lady to get home to and fuck.”
“You done, Miss Ballerina?” I provoke. It does the trick, too, as he comes at me and swings hard, hitting me square in the jaw, a satisfied smile coming to his face. It doesn’t knock me down, and as I lick my lip, metallic invades my mouth.
“How’s that, you bitch?”
“That was your given. Now I’ll show you what Ravage is made of.”
I let loose on the man. Rights, lefts, kicks. The sounds of his bones cracking echoes inside the room as I hear my brothers laughing. It’s not their first time seeing me do this. It sure as hell won’t be the last.
Blood pours from Poe’s forehead, nose, lips, and his right eye is beginning to swell.
With a savage right hook, Poe crumbles to the ground, completely unconscious. Sweat pours from my body, invigorated as hell.
I look at Nick. “I’m ready for round two. That was just my warm-up. Come on, Nicky.” Taunting him is a bit much, but whatever. It’s the truth. He doesn’t want to fuck with me when I’m pumped up like this. The hits just get harder because I can’t feel the pain in my knuckles. It all numbs; one punch becomes just like the next.
“Fuck you,” he says.
I hold my arms out wide to my sides. “I’m right here.”
“Nah, you’re not worth it.”
“Pussy!” Rhys calls out, then Dagger, and the chanting begins.
All I can do is shake my head and try not to smile too much and bust my lip back open. The blood just clotted.
Getting serious, I tell them all, “Bristyl is off limits to you. You come near her, this is what’ll happen to ya.” I look directly at Nick. “You stay the fuck away from Leah, too. I mean it.”
My father comes up beside me, handing me my shirt. Instead of putting it on, I put my gun holster and cut on. It’s too fucking hot in here.
“Scandal,” Pops says. “Fuckin’ with either of those women will put you in bad with Ravage. Only warning. You keep your distance, no problems with us. We gotta come back down here, it won’t be pretty.”
“I got it,” Scandal says, looking down at Poe. “Someone drag his ass to the corner and throw some water on him.” Scandal holds out his hand, and Pops takes it. “On my word, this is done.”
“Our word,” Pops responds. “Also, whatever shit you got goin’ down with Sinisters, our ties are cut. We have no dealing with it. If it gets brought to our doorstep in any way, we’ll be back and it won’t be fists flyin’; it’ll be bullets.”
“Understood.”
“Our work here is done,” Pops says, releasing Scandal, but not before giving him the look that would make any man quiver.
There are lots of stares as we leave, but I don’t give a fuck because Bristyl is waiting for me.
We ride in a pack all the way to the hotel. As we get off, Pops announces, “Two hours to get some grub and we’re outta here.”
Nodding, I take the stairs two at a time up to my door where Jacks sits outside in the chair.
“About fuckin’ time. If I have to watch Judge fuckin’ Judy one more time, I’m gonna put a bullet in Ryker’s head.”
Ignoring him, I bang on the door. “Open.”
The door swings open.
“Damn, what’s the other guy look like? Dead?” Ryker greets.
Bristyl pushes—yes, pushes—Ryker out of the doorway then stops when she sees my face, her eyes going wide in shock.
“What happened? Are you okay? Is anything broken?”
Ryker laughs. “Those questions should probably be for the other guy. I’m out.” He steps outside with Derek after h
im.
“We’re pullin’ out in two hours. Get food and ready to ride,” I tell them.
“Looks like you’ll be ridin’ before us,” Ryker calls out on the way down the hallway.
He’s not wrong.
Closing the door, I pull Bristyl to me.
“Cooper, are you okay?” The concern in her eyes is the only thing that’s stopping me in this moment from taking her hard and fast.
“Never been better.”
Her worry lines grow deeper.
“Beautiful, let me show you.” I crash my lips down on hers, the burn from the cut only enhancing my need.
I’m happy I cleaned my shit up before we got back. Breaker had baby wipes in his saddlebag. Fuck if I know why. They worked, so that’s all that matters.
She pulls away abruptly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Beautiful, never.”
Our lips connect again in a sea of passion and lust that fills the dank hotel room.
Pushing her against the door, she gives a grunt at the contact then moans so damn sexily that my cock twitches. When I squeeze her plump breasts, she rips her mouth away from mine, sucking in much needed air. Her groans and mewls bounce off the walls.
“Clothes off … now.” The demand in my voice has Bristyl’s eyes growing wide, then they spark with lust and desire.
She listens as I toss my clothes from my body, including my boots, which take me a minute.
Bristyl stands in front of the door, her beautiful hair streaming down her body and covering one of those luscious tits. Her knee is cocked as she stands on a tiptoe. It’s her face, though, the look that tells me she wants me just as badly as I want her.
Grabbing my jeans, I yank out a condom and rip the foil off with my teeth, spitting the bit of plastic on the ground as I sheathe myself.
The need to be inside her is beyond overwhelming. My cock pulses and strains to find its home. That’s what Bristyl is. Coming home.
She comes at me, attacking my mouth and wrapping her legs around my body, locking them behind me. I press her hard against the door and place my hands under ass, gripping her tightly. The kiss becomes a desperation.