Lonely Rider - The Box Set: A Motorcycle Club Romance - The Complete Series

by Melissa Devenport

  “But…” she didn’t want to ask, but she had to. “You never wonder- about your- about your dad? You never get asked about him by your friends or anyone else?”

  Alex shrugged, even though he kept his arms wrapped around her. She drew comfort from him, even though she was the adult. If that was a crime, then hell, she was happy to be a bad parent for once.

  “No. Not really. He’s never been here. It’s always just been us. I like it that it’s us. You’re the best mom ever. I don’t need a dad when I have you.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not very good at soccer and sports though. At fishing or at mechanics or at- at any of the other things that your friend’s dads probably all do.”

  “I guess that’s why those people are in the world then,” Alex said, far too rationally. He smiled at her. “If the car needs fixing, we bring it to the shop and some guy does it. If I want to learn sports, I go into them and go to camps. There are lots of people to teach me those things. I don’t need a dad.” He paused and his brow wrinkled again. “And if you ever wanted to move somewhere else, don’t worry about me. I could always make new friends. I like it here, but I’d probably like it wherever we went too. You wouldn’t pick a bad place.”

  This time, when Alex’s arms closed around her and he rested his head against her, Sandra did allow a few tears to track their way down her cheeks. What did I ever do right to deserve a kid like him? Alex was so kind. He’d always just understood. He’d never been one of those sassy, mean kids who were never satisfied with what she could provide. He was the exact opposite. He was tender and caring, wise and intuitive far past his eight years. Sometimes she felt like she was talking with a mini-adult.

  Her hand reached down and traced circles on Alex’s back. He was getting taller, and he was long past the point of having any of the younger, almost baby like qualities. He was already getting to that almost awkward stage, like a teenager. He was going to be tall and broad, like his father.

  “And- and if I started dating again? I mean like really dating? Not saying that I will, but if I did? Would that be okay with you?”

  “Yeah.” Alex’s muffled voice drifted up to her. “Sure. Steven was okay.”

  “Steven was not okay,” she laughed. “I promise, I won’t pick a guy like him. I’ll pick someone who actually likes kids.”

  Alex pulled back. He took a step back this time, detaching himself completely. “Is that why Steven stopped coming around? Because of me?”

  “No, no honey,” Sandra said. “Don’t ever think that. Sometimes things just don’t work out. I really wasn’t ready to seriously date someone and he wanted more than that. I didn’t like that- that he had- that we came from different economic situations. It made me feel… it made me uncomfortable. He was nice too, but we really didn’t have much in common. It’s okay that things don’t work out. I was alright with that.”

  “But weren’t you sad?”

  “Maybe a little, but I have you. You’ll always be everything that I need.”

  “Well…” Alex hesitated. He stared up at her with his huge eyes.

  “Go ahead,” she encouraged him. “It’s alright. You can tell me or ask me anything.”

  “I don’t want to hurt your feelings though. My teacher said that sometimes it’s better not to say anything because it might hurt another person.”

  “That might be true,” Sandra agreed. “But in this case, you don’t have to worry. It’s okay if it hurts my feelings. I’m your mom and I’ll get over it, because I know that you don’t mean to hurt me.”

  “Okay.” Alex slid his sock along the floor. He studied it for a minute before he looked back up at her. “Do you ever- get lonely? By yourself? I mean, I’m a kid and I know you say that I’m enough and I believe you, but I know that some of my friend’s parents, when they get a divorce- I’ve heard them say that they miss the other person or they had a boyfriend or girlfriend and they broke up and they’re sad or they’re just lonely. Brock said his mom is lonely all the time. He said she cries at night because she doesn’t want to be in the house alone.”

  Sandra swallowed hard, but the lump that suddenly lodged in her throat wasn’t going anywhere. “Sometimes I do get lonely. Sometimes I wish that I had someone here to help me parent and do the harder adult things that you shouldn’t have to worry about. But that’s just sometimes. Ninety-nine percent of the time I’m happy. I like being single. I like having my friends that I do things with when I need to have a night out or talk to someone. Having you here, Alex, it’s the best. You’re the best part of my life. I never get truly lonely because I have you.”

  “But you shouldn’t just make your life about me. That’s what I heard Brock’s mom say. Or something. She said she didn’t want her life to just be Brock. She wanted something for herself.”

  “I- uh- I think there is a balance,” Sandra said carefully. “Some people like to have a partner there. Some people don’t like being alone or aren’t as confident in that. I enjoy my alone time and I enjoy you. I don’t really feel that I need an adult partner to feel content.”

  “Really?”

  No. Well, just one person and I’ve sent him away for good. “I- I think so. Most of the time, I’m sure.” It wasn’t like she could tell Alex about his father. About the details. That he’d come back and that he wanted to give it another shot.

  “Well- if you ever find someone who makes you happy, I think you should go for it. Don’t worry about me. You would never be with someone who would hate me or hurt me or make me not want to be around. You wouldn’t even get past talking to someone like that.”

  Alex’s faith in her rocked Sandra. He was so trusting, but he was right. She’d always been extra careful when it came to dating. She didn’t bring someone back to the house that she didn’t know well enough to have a certain amount of trust established. Alex was always her first priority.

  “And if my dad ever came back, I think I’d like to meet him. Even just to see what he’s like. Maybe just once. I wouldn’t mind. Not that I would have to and not that I need or want to, but just- if it ever happened, I’m saying it would be okay with me.”

  “What?” Panic clawed its way up into Sandra’s chest. Did Alex know? Could he tell just by seeing Trace outside the car that night, how much alike they looked?

  “I’m just saying. I know it’s not going to happen. My dad or anyone. I just want you to be happy, mom. Or by yourself if you’re okay with that.”

  “Right,” Sandra said slowly. She breathed out a sigh of relief that was short lived. Alex nodded at her, flashed her a smile, and took off to his room. A few minutes later the sound of his video games started up. She didn’t even bother to ask him if he had homework.

  Instead she set her hand on the counter to steady herself.

  Had she done the right thing in keeping Trace away from his son? She’d wanted to protect Alex, but she never considered that her son would want to know his father. Of course she’d thought about it over the years, but she’d always imagined Trace being a dangerous man involved in things that Alex shouldn’t know about. What if Trace wasn’t living that lifestyle any longer? What if they moved away from it all? Far away? Did she have a right to keep Trace from Alex or deny Alex his father when Trace wanted a chance to do the right thing and get to know his son? Could Trace change? Could he really make a fresh start after the things he’d probably done over the years?

  It was true that he was a stranger, but maybe she shouldn’t have slammed the door in his face. It was too convenient, using all her excuses from the past.

  If things were different, those excuses wouldn’t hold.

  Was she so worried about protecting herself that she’d deny Alex a shot at knowing his dad? Did she have that right? Could she keep Trace at a distance, but still let him into Alex’s life? Could they move away and start all over again? All of them? Did she just want to believe it was possible, deep down, despite it all? Was her heart so traitorous that she could no longer trust it? She’d
never been very good at rational thought or decision making when it came to Trace.

  She blinked hard, but the tears started up and trialed down her cheeks in hot streams. She didn’t have any answers. Not a single one.

  She thought she’d done the right thing. For herself. For Alex. Even for Trace.

  Unfortunately, after a ten minute conversation with her son, she was no longer so sure.

  She wasn’t sure about anything at all.

  Including her heart.

  Chapter 16

  TRACE

  The club was silent from the outside. There weren’t many bikes in the compound either. Bone actually had given him the time he needed to get his answers. Shocking, for a man who went off half-cocked at the drop of a mother fucking hat as of late.

  Fortunately, he’d be able to get himself a private audience to negotiate his deal. A trade off. His life for Bone’s. The man had some small shred of honor left, at least Trace hoped so. He’d appeal to it. To the man Bone used to be. It used to be, that club honor dictated a life for a life. It was why he’d spared Big Ted’s daughter. Because she’d saved him.

  He had no idea if Bone would let him out. It was different. That life for a life thing usually only applied to non-club members. Guys that were on the put to ground list and did them a solid to save their own skin.

  Unfortunately, Tommy the torturer stood on the steps by the back door again, arms crossed, a cigarette hanging from his lips with an ash so long it was a wonder the thing even stayed lit.

  “Pretty late to be coming back tonight isn’t it?” Tommy leered at him. Those big arms bulged under the guy’s leather jacket. Trace swore he could see the blood stains on Tommy’s hands even when they were clean.

  “It might be late, but what I have to say isn’t going to wait until morning.”

  Tommy rolled his eyes and flexed his arms again. “Too bad you can’t share it with all of us.”

  “It doesn’t work that way and you know it. Bone sent me out to do my job. I did it. I’m reporting back.”

  “It’s three in the morning.”

  “Which doesn’t seem to hamper you. Let me guess. Working late again? You got a tough nut in there?”

  Tommy’s eyes narrowed. The guy could put on a stone cold mask when he wanted to. He rarely betrayed his emotions and when it came to torture, he had unending patience. But then again, he actually enjoyed his job.

  “Let’s just say the guy thinks he has stamina, but he has nothing on me.” Tommy flicked his half smoked cigarette away. It hit the gravel and remained smoldering, the acrid smoke drifting upward in dark spirals. He didn’t light another.

  “Too bad your mom can’t say the same.”

  “My mom?”

  “Yeah. When I fucked her. Don’t know where you get yours from. I wore her out after the first round.”

  “Fuck you, Trace. You never fucked anyone’s mother. You don’t fuck much of anything anymore.” Tommy slowly descended the steps. He did his best to look menacing, or rather, he just was menacing because he was fucking born that way, but Trace stood his ground. He’d been up against a lot worse and Tommy was his brother. If he wanted to kick his ass without reason, there would be hell to pay.

  “Just tell me what you want, Tommy, and get the fuck out of my way,” Trace said, bored with the whole exchange already. He wanted to talk to Bone and Tommy was in his fucking way.

  “Nothing. I don’t want anything. Not from you. I just want you to think about something. Whatever that information is that you have. It’s obviously important. My guess is that you didn’t find out about our rat, because the piece of shit I’m torturing down there is our newest prospect. John Davies. He was the rat. I can see I’ve surprised you, yet you still look like you have something burning to say.” Tommy’s eyes were completely feral.

  Trace looked him up and down, trying to decide if he was telling the truth or just trying to goad him to get information out of him. There were no bloodstains on his clothes. He wasn’t dressed in his usual torture garb.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry. I’ve already changed and cleaned up for the night. I’m about to head out. It was just lucky timing that you happened to stop by at the same time I was heading out. I thought I’d give young John a little bit of a break until morning. Let him build up his strength. He’s going to need it.”

  “You’re going to kill him then? The club’s own prospect?”

  Tommy spat on the ground right in front of Trace’s left boot. “You know as well as I do what happens to rats. You know what happened to Big Ted and we all know he was honest as the day is fucking long or whatever that bullshit saying is. He was a good man. Bone killed him because he could.”

  “I’ve heard this spiel already. You shouldn’t be mouthing off over and over, not on club premises, unless you want to end up in your own chair.”

  “Bone would never torture me. He doesn’t like to get his hands dirty like that. He would just put a bullet in my brain like he did to Big Ted.”

  “And probably murder half your family. Watch your back, Tommy. Seriously. We both know that this is for life.”

  “Do we?” Tommy’s left brow arched. “If you do, why are you blazing a path up those stairs with that look on your face? That ‘fuck you, I’m shipping out’ look.”

  “I’m not shipping anywhere.”

  “Says you.”

  “Just fuck off, Tommy and let me in,” Trace growled. “I’m just about out of patience for the night.”

  “Technically it’s a new day. Three in the morning and all.”

  “That’s what I meant. Unless you want my fist in your fucking teeth, get the hell out of my way. And stop spouting off about that shit. If you want to leave, take your ass far away from here. Change your identity. Change your fucking face. Take anyone you care about with you, but don’t tell me about it. I don’t need to know. My loyalty is to this club first. Always has been and always will be.”

  “That true?” Tommy crossed his arms again. His grin was absolutely malicious. “I know about that piece you have on the side. The one who has your brat.”

  “What the fuck did you just say?” Trace saw red. He charged Tommy, rammed the fucker up against the brick wall of the club. He had his arm against Tommy’s windpipe, crushing the life out of him, before he realized that he’d tipped his hand in the worst way.

  He let go and took a step back, shaking his head. Tommy let out a strangled laugh. He rubbed at his throat. “You thought you were the only one who’s good at finding out shit.” He laughed again, the sound dark and bitter. “I know what you know.” He lowered his voice. “Trust me, I know. I think you should think twice about going in there. Maybe if it happens, we all get what we want.”

  “Oh yeah?” Trace leaned forward, his voice so low Tommy had to strain to hear it even though he spoke right by the bastard’s ear. “You condone murder of the man you swore an oath to protect and obey? A man who is your brother?”

  “I didn’t fucking condone murder of my brothers who have done nothing wrong. Honest brothers. Big Ted and his fucking family. That shit doesn’t fly. We all know that Bone is getting out of control. He’s lost his fucking mind. He’s drunk on his power. That fucker needs to be put to ground. We need new leadership in this place. Or maybe it will just finally fucking fold and we’ll all be free.”

  Trace ground his teeth so hard that his skull ached. He was too tired for this shit. It was late. Real fucking late. He was being honest when he said he was out of patience. The hard truth was, he didn’t need his freedom anymore. He was always honest to a fucking fault. His code of honor, his oath, wouldn’t let him consider what Tommy was saying, even if it would be easier. He couldn’t not warn Bone. He had to barter. A life for a life. If Bone said no, or if he put a bullet in his brain for even asking, hell, he’d have to live with that.

  Or not.

  Ha fucking ha.

  “You might be right about everything you said,” Trace rasped. “But
it’s not honorable. I’m telling him.”

  Tommy gave him a hard, cold look. Fuck, the guy was creepy. He finally shrugged again, in that nonchalant, disinterested way. “Go ahead. I’m not stopping you. I was just saying. Just telling you all the things you can’t seem to tell yourself. You’re a smart man, Trace, so I’ll ask you this. Does your honor system let you sacrifice many for the life of one man? Who do you love more? Your brothers or your Prez? Is a madman worth sending us all to hell for?”

  Trace didn’t have an answer. Tommy stared him down for a minute more, the silence stretching on between them, thick and wild and burning in the dark night. Finally Tommy slipped into the shadows of the compound and a few minutes later, his bike roared to life.

  He left Trace alone with his thoughts.

  Alone with his decision.

  Bone or his brothers? He knew the club was going to shit. No, hell, they’d been there for a long time already. Bone was bad. He was going to condemn them all to some stupid war and feed them, one by one, like fodder to the cannons. He didn’t care if they all died. They were just minions to do his bidding. What Bone wanted, he got, and what he wanted was absolute control.

  Trace stood rooted to the spot, his feet heavy as lead.

  Either way, his decision could very well cost him his life.

  Chapter 17

  TRACE

  The club was quiet at such an early hour. Or late hour, depending on perspective. Most of them had either drunk themselves stupid and retired to rooms down the hall, or were dragged there by other, less inebriated brothers.

  The club whores, if they had been there, were all long gone. Sometimes the party lasted until the sun came up, but not tonight.

  Not when they were on the verge of war. The men might want to drink to forget that their loving Prez might be about to command their sacrifice, but there was no revelry in it. If they survived the impending war, that was another story. The debauchery would go on for days.