Her Ride

by Rachael Orman

  Contents

  

  Copyright/disclaimer

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Her Ride

  Copyright 2014 by Rachael Orman

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Her Ride is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  Ryan “Dirty” Ellis Patrick

  April 1985 - January 2014

  To my step brother, who left his wife and son way too early.

  While Her Ride is not a story about suicide, many people are affected by it daily and I personally wanted to take a moment to remind everyone out there, there is help and there is always a reason to live.

  Never give up and never stop trying to survive.

  If you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, never hesitate to call.

  1-800-273-Talk (8255)

  National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

  OR

  1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433)

  OR

  http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html

  ~~Acknowledgements~~

  Kelly & my girls - I can’t say thank you enough to my wonderful husband and children for putting up with their crazy mama that spends so much time on the computer researching and writing. My husband puts up with my wild stories and late hours while being husband extraordinaire. I love you honey (and my turkeys too)!!

  Danielle - girlfriend… I don’t have enough words to say thank you for your support and help through this book. It wouldn’t be half as great without you!

  T - Thank you for being a great beta and helping make the story better…fastest beta in the world!

  Mary Kris - Your crazy number of edits and ideas might’ve taken years off my life, but they helped in the end and you did it all with horrendous tooth pain.

  Crystal & Little House of Edits - Thank you for the final run through and fixing all the errors left behind in such a quick and efficient manner and making it so great to work with you.

  Jacqui - My #1 fan! The first one outside of my betas and editors to get a peek into my newest story and as always encouraging me to keep on writing and keep on taking that scary step and hitting publish!

  Jennifer - My biggest writing support group… You alone have kept me going through all the ups and downs and author goes through. Plus, you are an amazing friend!!!!!!!!

  It had been one year, six months, and seven days since the last time my shit kickers stirred up the dust in my good ole’ home country of America. I had served in the United States Marines for seven years, but I had just landed back in my home state of Arizona to spend my final leave before I got out of the military. Really, it’s hard to believe how fast the years flew by. I enjoyed being in the military, but it was time for things to change. Watching people fight to get out of the airplane, I patiently waited until it was less crowded before pulling on my heavy backpack with a grunt then exited into the airport.

  The familiar scent of the airport had a smile tugging at my lips. It smelled just like I remembered it. Dirt. Might sound weird that I enjoyed that scent, but it also reminded me of riding. Tiredly, I leaned against a wall in the terminal to stretch out the cramps in my legs from the multiple plane rides it had taken to finally arrive home. Everyone was rushing around, but not me; I was taking my sweet ass time. I had spent so many years following every instruction thrown at me. Since I was on my own time, I was going to do whatever the hell I wanted. Finally I pushed off the wall, making my way through the masses of people until I spotted the back of a familiar head near the baggage claim. One of the benefits of being five foot nine was that I could see over quite a few people.

  Crouching down, I tried to blend in with the crowd a bit as I snuck up closer to the man. The closer I got, the more I could make out of his broad shoulders as he leaned against the wall with his back to me. All his hard muscles were covered by a tight black shirt that was tucked into a pair of loose jeans. A leather vest rested over his shirt naming the motorcycle club he road with, Tormented Souls. He was imposing and I could see people taking an extra step away from him in fear as they passed; I knew this man though and was excited that he was the one who had come to pick me up from the airport.

  Dropping my bag behind him, I jumped onto his back and put him in a choke hold. Instinctively, he turned and slammed my back into the wall he’d been leaning against; the hard impact of it had me letting out a soft ‘oomph’. Before he could do anything else though, I leaned forward to nip his ear and whisper, “You wouldn’t hurt little ole’ me, would you?"

  “Damn it, Ryan.” Ellis heaved out a sigh of relief. I laughed since I’d been able to catch him off guard, which was well and truly rare. “Get off me crazy ass.” Ellis grunted, squeezing my knees where he’d instinctively grabbed me when I’d jumped on him. Still laughing, I slid down off his back, trying not to notice the firm press of his hands as they moved from knees to thighs, continuing on to brush the curve of my ass before he removed them. A shudder worked down my back from his touch. I felt my face flare pink as I also felt a distinct reaction between my thighs from the brief touch. Ellis had been my childhood crush, but I thought I had finally gotten over that since I was no longer the naïve child I had once been. Hoping to hide my pink cheeks, I snatched up my backpack from the floor and started walking toward the bag carousel designated for my flight.

  “Hurry up, the bags are coming out.” I called out over my shoulder to Ellis and the man that he’d been talking to, who I’d barely noticed. Staring at the bags that spilled onto the metal carousel, I pulled my backpack on while thoughts of the past took over.

  Ellis. He was a friend. A longtime family friend. I had lost my parents when I was 16. My brother, Patrick, had become my guardian because he was 19 and didn’t want me becoming a foster child. He was a mechanic for a local biker club. Being a normal little sister, I wanted to hang out with all his friends and they all welcomed me as “baby girl”, or some variation of the name. That is until they realized I wasn’t like other girls. I showed them I wa
s just as good as any man at any task, any job, and any skill. In less than a year, I was turning wrenches with the guys and answering to Ryan instead of the name my parents gave me, Shannon, or any name that included ‘baby’ or ‘girl’. Technically, I still went by my name as legally it was Shannon Ryan. The men in the club had deemed me more man than woman after one of my many brawls; from then on out I was only called Ryan. If you called me Shannon, you didn’t know me very well.

  “Get your panties out of a wad.” Ellis snapped me out of my thoughts as he stepped up next to me. When my suitcase finally tumbled down onto the carousel, I grabbed it and muscled it over the side. The damn thing was heavy considering I’d packed only one bag. I’d rather deal with one heavy bag instead of many lighter ones. I turned to look at Ellis once I had the bag on the ground. My golden brown eyes were instantly met with smiling dark green ones. I knew he was only trying to tease me, but I was too tired for that.

  “Ellis. I’m just strung out right now. I’ve been flying for over 18 hours. I just want to shower in my own shower and sleep in my own bed right now. Please don’t give me a hard time. Just get me home. Please." I was just not feeling like myself. I was exhausted and my brain was tripping over itself trying to figure out why I got turned on from a brush of Ellis’ hand on my thighs. I blamed it on the lack of good sleep, good food, or maybe even a nice hot shower. “What did you bring here? Your bike?”

  “Well, I figured you’d have some luggage so I brought Hammer here to take it back to Patrick’s for you.” Ellis nodded his head over his shoulder to the man he’d been talking with earlier. “And I brought my bike to take you back on. Unless you’d rather go in the truck since you're tired.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice while a half smile slid onto his face as we walked towards the parking garage.

  “Hm. Bike ride or truck ride. Tough choice.” I pretended to ponder over the decision, but I had known what I was going to say as soon as I knew my options. It’d be a bike ride every time and just the thought of getting on a bike again had me perking up. “I don't know, that is one difficult choice. Wind in my hair, feeling the earth fly past me or sitting in nice comfy seats with the cool air conditioning on my face.”

  “Oh, please. When you put it like that, it’s so obvious.” Ellis laughed as he handed off my bags to Hammer before leading me towards the door by placing his large, calloused hand on the back of my arm.

  “I’m that easy to read, huh?” I laughed and Ellis returned the smile. Without another word, we took the few steps to his bike in the multi-level parking garage. Winking at me, he handed me a helmet that had been resting on the bike before he slipped on his own helmet. I was filled with excitement just to be on a bike again. It had been so long!

  “I knew you’d take the feel of the road over, what’d you call them? Oh ‘comfy seats’.” He made air quotes with his fingers as he smiled again, shaking his head at me. “You are such a road whore.”

  Rolling my eyes at him, I pulled the band out of my hair. Letting my long blonde hair fall down my back before tying it into a low ponytail so that I could slip on the helmet, I caught Ellis watching out of the corner of his eye before he turned his head away and took his beast of a bike between his muscular thighs. He pushed the start button causing the bike to roar to life, making my heart rate kick up a notch in delight. I could feel the rumble of the loud engine rattle all the way through me. It was like taking a deep breath after being under water for a long time. I loved riding almost more than living, and it’d been way too long since I’d lived.

  Ellis looked over at me, tilting his head to the side, signaling me to get on. Sliding my leg over the seat, I wrapped my arms around his lean waist. He backed the bike out of the spot carefully before patting my thigh with one hand as he tossed a comforting smile over his shoulder at me. The bike roared loud as he twisted the handle; I squeezed him tight with my arms and thighs as the bike took off toward the ramp and out onto the open road.

  Flying down the paved road, feeling the wind blow through my hair had pure happiness filling my entire body. There are no words that would do justice to describe it. So many other things in my life had been oppressive and riding was my one way to feel free, to escape. It was the feel of the earth moving under the tires, the rumble of the engine under my ass, knowing that control of my life was in the palms of my hands. This was what I missed most about being home. Sure, I loved the boys of the club and the mismatched family that had come together over the years, but it was nothing compared to riding, even on the back of someone else’s bike. Although I preferred to ride my own bike, riding bitch was second best.

  It’d been so long since I’d been home; I doubted most of the men in Patrick’s club even knew who I was. I’d been a bad girl until I joined the military. I’d seen and experienced more before I was legally an adult than most people did in a lifetime. The military hadn’t changed who I was; I was still the girl that was going to do what I wanted, but I had learned a whole new level of discipline and control that I didn’t have before. Going into the military hadn’t saved my life or been forced or anything crazy like that; it had been a choice I made. I wanted to grow up and experience things on my own. It had been my way of spreading my wings, so to speak; and that’s what I’d done. I ended up with both good and bad experiences. Everything was up in the air with my life since I’d decided to get out of the military, but the one thing that had been a solid decision was to see my brother, Patrick. I knew that I’d be coming home for a while, how long I’d be staying around wasn’t such a firm decision.

  “Ryan.” Ellis slapped at my leg to tell me we had arrived. It was only then that I realized I had gotten lost in my thoughts. Smiling, I slid off the bike, unclipping the helmet. I handed it back to him before putting my hair back into the high ponytail I normally wore.

  “Sorry. It was nice to get lost out on the road. It always helps clear my head.” I felt his eyes roam over my body as he stepped close to me. His fingers slid up the side of my head as if he was tucking away a fly away strand of hair. The contact made my eyes fall to the ground, landing on his shiny black boots.

  “I’m glad you are home.” Ellis’ tender tone brought my eyes back to his. His hand fell to my shoulder before skimming down my arm to finally lose all contact with me. “We should go inside. I know there is someone waiting to see you.”

  “Right.” I tried to smile, but there was something distinctly different in the way he touched me. Even though I’d had a crush on him for as long as I could remember, never once had he responded to my advances, yet he was acting like he was the one that had the crush. Maybe it was simply being away from home for so long. Shaking my head to clear away the confusing thoughts, I followed Ellis up the driveway that was lined on both sides with bikes of every variety. The only kind worth riding that is, none of those crotch rocket pieces of shit were allowed at the club.

  Looking up, I took in the beautiful exterior of the house that my brother owned. It was home to the Tormented Souls Motorcycle Club as well. When I was last here, the club members had been a bunch of good guys just looking for somewhere to call home and people to call their family. From what Patrick had shared over the phone, they were still the same group but had added a few new members. The sheer number of bikes lining the path to the front door told me that my brother had a warped sense of what ‘few’ meant. The numbers had to have at least doubled, if not more, from how many people were there, not to mention how many weren’t.

  I stopped and grabbed Ellis’ arm. Looking over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow in question. “There better not be a party of any kind when we get in there.” That was the only explanation I could come up with for so many members being there.

  “Ryan,” Ellis turned around and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You know everyone wants to welcome you back.”

  “No,” I whined. Whining was so not my thing, but I was really tired. I didn’t want to deal with anyone let alone a party. “I don’t want to see anyone. I want to
shower, eat, and sleep. It doesn’t even have to be in that order. Quiet would be wonderful. Tell them to move the party to tomorrow." I shook my head as I tried to walk backwards down the driveway. I gestured toward my worn black boots, torn jeans and faded blue tank top. “Plus, this isn’t exactly what you wear to a party."

  “It is around here. Girl, I think you might have lost your edge a bit being around all those pretty military boys.” Ellis wrapped an arm around my waist and gently but firmly led me back up towards the front door.

  “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes as I grabbed one of his fingers and lifted it until his whole hand came off my waist. “And no touching. You are weirding me out."

  Ellis’ mouth opened to respond, but the door opened wide right in front of us to reveal Patrick. All six foot two inches, three hundred pounds of him. Wrapping me in his thick, muscular arms, I practically choked from the tightness of his hug, my feet even left the ground.

  “Patrick. I. Can’t. Breathe.” I slapped at his back until he set me back on the ground and allowed me to catch a deep gasping breath. "Did you miss me?”

  “You know it. You are never allowed to leave my side again.” Patrick wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into the house. Ellis followed, closing the door behind us. I looked into the wide open foyer and living room to find many familiar faces mixed in with just as many unfamiliar ones. “Look who is home!” Patrick let out in a booming voice.

  It took over two hours before I could finally make it upstairs to my room. Everyone either wanted to welcome me back or be introduced to the president’s long lost sister. I threw open the last door on the second floor and flopped face up onto the bed.

  “I told you. Everyone wanted to see you.” Ellis was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his broad chest. I pushed myself up onto my elbows to glare at him.