Biker Romance: Never Love an Exile (Exile Love Biker MC Series Book 3)

by Summers, Kara

  I nodded but stayed silent, refusing to let him go. After a moment he pushed me back and gripped my shoulders.

  "We have to get out of here.” he murmured.

  I nodded and grabbed my rebar, swallowing thickly. "Where's your gun?"

  "I'm out of bullets."

  The gun fire had died down, though a few shots rang out now and then. There must have only been one person left hiding out somewhere. Ryder took my hand and pulled me close, leading me across the foundation.

  Just as Ryder was about to peek around the corner, Fang jumped out, gun raised. "Well, well. Look at this. Two little love birds that got away."

  My eyes widened and I started to take a step back. Ryder stepped in front of me to shield me and Fang just laughed. "You think you're going to protect her?" he spat, stepping forward. "Why would you waste your time on this useless bitch? She's not even a good lay."

  I had a lot of sharp witted retorts for that comment but I stayed silent, my eyes narrowed. I had a smart mouth but he had a gun. My hands were shaking, the rebar smacking the wall and making far too much noise.

  “That all you got, princess?” he hissed, grinning wildly at me. “I’ll take you on. Let’s see if you can get to me before my bullet gets you,” he said, cackling at his own terrible joke.

  “NO! This isn’t her fight!”

  Fang glared at Ryder, his eyes full of a fiery hate. “All my men are dead because of this bitch. She tricked us. She tricked her family; this is most definitely her fight,” he snarled.

  Ryder’s eyes narrowed and he took off after Fang. Shocked at the audacity of the man, Fang took a step back and was suddenly completely open. He no longer had the wall as a shield. I saw Damien raise his gun, but I knew Fang would have more than enough time to fire. My eyes widened and I jumped forward, shoving Ryder out of the way. He was larger than me, but since he was running it was relatively easy to push him. He stumbled to the side, his shoulder slamming into the wall.

  As he turned to look at me our eyes met and a chorus of sounds filled my ears. There was loud pop as Damien and Fang fired at the same time, followed by the sound of Fang’s body hitting the ground, and Ryder screaming my name as the air was forced from my lungs.

  I hit the ground hard, an aching feeling in my chest as I tried desperately to suck air into my lungs. The world was spinning and I wasn’t sure what to do. I felt Ryder pull me into his arms and the tears in his eyes made my heart ache. I reached up to touch his face, smiling weakly.

  “Tell me you love me,” I whispered.

  He pressed his forehead to mine and swallowed thickly, whispering the words “I love you”, through tears. We stayed like that for a long moment before I cupped his cheeks.

  “Hey, don’t be mad at me for dragging this out. I just wanted to hear you say you love me again,” I whispered.

  He frowned and pulled away. “What?”

  “I’m fine, I’m not going to die,” I wheezed, pulling up my shirt to reveal the bullet proof vest.

  His eyes widened and he stared at me. “How did you-”

  “I stole it from Fang before I ever came out here. I figured I would be needing it one day.” I whispered.

  He stared at me in disbelief. “Are you even hit?”

  “Oh, I’m hit. It’s going to cause some wicked bruising, but I can live with that,” I said with a little grin.

  He yanked me closer and held me tight, rocking with me. “I can’t believe you. I just can’t believe you! You’re an idiot!” he said through his laughter.

  I chuckled and wrapped my arms around him, shaking my head. “I’m not an idiot. I’m just in love,” I murmured.

  I couldn’t help but feel the most hopeful that I had in days. I held onto Ryder, professing my love to him again and again. This was where I belonged; this is where I felt safe. Ryder helped me stand and I leaned heavily on him. We wandered around the half built house, stepping over Fang’s body as we finally met up with everyone. Chloe ran over to me and threw her arms around me, tears in her eyes.

  “We thought you and Ryder were gone,” she said, unable to make herself say ‘dead’.

  I wrapped one arm around her and shook my head, smiling. “We’re alive and kicking. It’s going to take a lot more than that to get rid of us.”

  She laughed and stepped back so that Damien could approach us. He smiled and wrapped an arm around each of us before leaning back. “I’m so damn happy you two are alright.”

  I nodded and sighed. “Thank you. Even though this is my entire fault.”

  “No, don’t start with that. You more than proved your worth, Brittney.”

  I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You mean I can stay?”

  He smiled simply and nodded. “Welcome home.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Three years. I can hardly believe it’s been three years that I’ve called this place home. I felt so good and I felt so alive here. Everything came together when Damien and his gang finally accepted me. I’d spent so much of my life being bitter and hopeless that I never thought I’d find anything meaningful. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I had friends here and I had love.

  I moved in with Ryder that very day, not that I had much to move. I never went back to the trailer I shared with Fang. I didn’t want anything to do with him and I didn’t want any reminders of that life. I wanted to start fresh here in Nashville with Ryder and the rest.

  There were no casualties on our side that day. I still thought back to it occasionally and thanked my lucky stars that no one had died because of me. I’m not sure I would have been able to live with myself. I was thankful every day that I didn’t even have to think about that.

  A few months after I started my life with Ryder, my mother wandered into the picture again. At first I wasn’t sure it would be a good idea, but Ryder somehow convinced me to give her a chance. We sent her to rehab and she managed to clean herself up. This was the first time she had a real support system and it made me happier than anything else to see her clean. She lives with us now and works at a nearby daycare.

  Ryder and I are happy together. Everyone keeps asking us when we’re going to get married, but we just don’t see a reason to. We’re in love and that’s enough for us. Maybe one day we’ll tie the knot, but right now we’re just happy doing our thing.

  I turned to look at him, smiling as the light danced over his sleeping face. It reminded me of the first night we spent together. He’d always been a heavy sleeper and he looked so angelic when he was asleep. I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his nose, causing him to wrinkle it. His eyes fluttered open and he looked at me, a smile slowly coming to his face.

  “Well good morning,” he purred.

  “Good morning,” I whispered back.

  “What were you looking at?”

  “Just you.”

  “Oh?”

  “I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.”

  He smiled and caught my lips. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  I knew I’d found my haven in him. My Ryder.

  The End

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  BONUS HISTORIC ROMANCE STORIES

  Beatrice Mystery Romance

  Chapter One

  “Beatrice Martin!” the voice rang out loud and clear from the library.

  I winced just a little and sighed, looking down at the small collection of insects I had in a box. There were all in glass jars, though I’d fastened cheesecloth around the lip of the jar so that my little friends wouldn’t perish. Freedom wasn’t a concept I understood, so I did not think that keeping them trapped in these jars was cruel.

  I put the lid back on the box and pushed it under by bed, running downstairs to face my nanny. She was a heavyset woman with a thick Scottish accent and a round face that becam
e red when she was angry with me; which was most of the time.

  As I came down the stairs, the woman snatched the back of my dress and pointed to a collection of small bones that were sitting by the fireplace.

  “What in the world have you brought into this house, child?”

  “It’s only animal bones, Mary!” I answered, not quite sure why she was so upset.

  “I can see that they are only animal bones. Do you take me for an idiot? I don’t care what they are! What I care about is why they are here? Why are they scattered about the floor?”

  “I was investigating-,”“You were investigating animals?”

  I sighed in frustrating and ran my fingers through my hair. “No! Father says that what happens to the body after death can tell you a lot about how the person, or animal, died. I thought I could learn a lot about how the body works from the animal bones.”

  “Animals and humans are completely different. You’re wasting your time and you’re making a mess,” Mary said, shaking her head back and forth.

  “But father says-,”

  Mary reached out and grabbed my shoulders, gripping my arms tight as she started into my eyes. “Listen to me child, I know you think your father knows everything. I know you think that you are meant to follow in his footsteps, but you will ruin your life! Don’t you know that?” she whispered, looking almost worried as she stared into my eyes. “No man will want a woman that plays with dead things and collects bugs. Your mother is probably rolling over in her grave knowing what her daughter has become.”

  I stared at Mary, my blue eyes wide in disbelief. My mother had died only a year before and I was still reeling from the loss. The fact that my nanny would bring her up like this was a slap in the face. Tears welled in my eyes and Mary sighed, reaching out and wiping them from my face.

  “Child, I did not mean to make you cry,” she said gently, shaking her head and pulling me into a hug.

  I sank into her soft body, my small frame overwhelmed by her. I was mad at her, but it still felt good to be held by somebody. I sniffled and tried to hold back my tears, though I was shaking with the effort it took. Mary pulled back and sighed, wiping another tear from my cheek.

  “I don’t want to make you sad, child, but you have to understand that this is not normal behavior for a young girl.”

  “But father is a detective, and I want to be a detective one day,” I said.

  “Little girls don’t grow up to be detectives.”

  “Then what do little girls grow up to be?” I challenged.

  “Wives and mothers,” she explained.

  That answer would haunt me for the rest of my life. My little run in with Mary wasn’t going to stop me from studying and learning. I continued to read my father’s books and ask him questions. I considered him a passive educator. He never would have allowed me to go out with him, but he was more than happy to answer any questions I had.

  My father was a good man and an even better investigator, but the stereotype of the drunk, brooding detective followed him home. My father never got over my mother’s death and often drank to forget that she was gone. It was this vice that would take is life when I turned seventeen.

  I was alone in the world after my father died since I’d chosen not marry in order to pursue my dream. I’d spent my entire life learning to be a detective and I wasn’t going to give up now. My father had been very good at when he did and had run his agency under the name “B. Martin”. The offices of Bernard Martin would soon become the offices of Beatrice Martin, though the world would never have to know that. I would simply be “B. Martin II”.

  Cases started rolling in after my father died and I chose the ones that I would take on carefully. I did not want to be overly ambitious since I was just getting started. As soon as I realized that I was good at what I did, however, I became far less picky. I was better than Scotland Yard, though they never would have admitted to calling me on many occasions to consult.

  Some people were shocked when a tall red-headed woman showed up on their doorstep, but they never turned me away. Soon, word spread like wildfire that B. Martin was the rightful heir to the family business no matter my gender. I was making it in the world, and while my suitors were few and far between, I could care less. I was not concerned with things like babies and marriage. I was far more interested in what happened to bodies post mortem and the budding fields of Forensic Science and pathology. My life was fulfilled by my work.

  People thought me a bit strange, but no one was willing to say much about it because everyone knew that if they were looking for justice, there was only one person they wanted on the case.

  B. Martin.

  Chapter Two

  "I simply do not understand why I'm expected to go to these events. Doesn't Scotland Yard know how many murders take place in this city each night?" I hesitated at my own question. "Judging by their performance, I'm going to recant that question," I said, sucking in a breath as my best friend pulled the strings to my corset so tight that I could barely breathe. "That's too tight!"

  "No such thing," Victoria said, handing me the rest of my dress. "And you're expected to go to these things because you're a public figure in London. You're a female detective. That's curious enough, but the fact that you're good at your job makes you even more irresistible."

  "I just wish I did not have to wear all this!" I whined, motioning at the layers of fabric that had been wrapped around my body in order to make me look thinner.

  "You're still a lady, and you're expected to look nice when you go to balls," Victoria said, pulling a few cosmetics pots from a bag she'd brought.

  I groaned and eyed them almost suspiciously. "Must I wear that?"

  "You must."

  "But why?" I whined.

  "Because one day being a detective won't be enough to fill your life. You will wake up alone in your bed one day and wonder why you never married," Victoria said with a certainty I didn’t share.

  I pressed my lips together and sighed. "Men don't marry women who are detectives," I said softly, echoing my nanny from all those years ago.

  "That's not true. Times are changing, Bea," she said softly, starting to pull my hair back out of my face. "I know that you think you can't have both, but that's just not true. You can be a detective and a wife. You just have to give people a chance. You have plenty of suitors, but you push them away and go back to your potions and formulas."

  "I must focus on my work," I argued.

  "That's an excuse and we both know it, Bea," Victoria said, sticking a hair pin in my curls. "You hide behind your science because you're afraid."

  "Are you a psychologist now?" I scoffed, pulling my hair pin out and repositioning it in spite. Every time I replaced it, it all but fell out of my hair and Victoria smiled.

  She took the pin out of my hair and redid it so that it finally stayed in place. "Not a psychologist, darling, just a loving friend."

  I looked at her and sighed softly, shaking my head. “You are delusional,” I murmured, allowing Victoria to pat my face with pink pigments that stained my lips and cheeks.

  “Hardly, love,” she hummed, pulling a single curl down so that it fell in my face. “I am not delusional. It’s just easier for me to see from the outside than it is for you to see from inside that stubborn head of yours. You should know that,” she said softly, pulling back.

  I took myself in in the mirror, and while I hated to admit it, Victoria had done a wonderful job. I looked like a true lady, which was something that I did not get to say too often. I wasn’t not known for my feminine charm. I was more likely to walk into a room covered in blood than wearing a dress. I sighed softly and turned to look at her.

  “Thank you. I really don’t know where I would be without you,” I said with a soft smile. “I look great. Better than I ever thought I would.”

  Victoria smiled and crossed her arms over her chest. “You should give yourself a little credit. You gave me the materials to work with,” she said, taking my
arm and guiding me down the hall. “The Yard sent a carriage. They’re waiting.”

  As I followed her out of the house, my heart started beating a little faster. Social situations were not a place where I felt comfortable. I’d never really learned to conduct myself at large, formal functions like the one I was attending. As much as Victoria tried to tell me that times were changing, I knew she did not quite have that right. There were still things women were expected to do and I did not do any of those things.

  Victoria stood by the door and waved in my direction as I slipped into the carriage silently, glancing back over my shoulder and struggling to keep my composure. I could stare into the eyes of a killer and not flinch even in the slightest, but when it came to going to a ball, I was a mess.

  I took a deep breath and relaxed against the luxurious velvet seating, surprised that they’d sent such a nice carriage in the first place. I’d showed up their agency on more than one occasion and I wasn’t exactly their favorite person.

  The carriage took off and I groaned, closing my eyes and leaning my temple against the inside of the carriage. I always got a bit sick on these monstrosities. I stayed patient, but I was thankful when the carriage came to a stop and the driver opened the door for me, helping me out and keeping me upright as I stepped out onto the street.

  I looked up at the building in front of me, marveling at its size. Scotland Yard might have issues with their detectives, but their budget did not show it. The mansion that served as tonight’s venue, was lit up with several hundred candles and lanterns that illuminated a path up to the stone columns supporting the roof covering the front stairs.

  As I followed the lit path I glanced around, my cheeks going even redder underneath. People were whispering, staring at me and chuckling. I’d always been hyper aware and maybe even paranoid of people’s stares. I tried to ignore them as I walked through the doors of the main foyer, my eyes widening as I was met with a room full of people dancing in elaborate costumes. I was suddenly very glad that Victoria lent me one of her dresses. The one I would have worn would have been very much out of date and out of style.