by Jani Kay
Mia and the kids stayed in the main bedroom with Cobra—I’d heard the kids laughing and chattering. It would be a while before they were ready to share their time with anyone outside their close little family unit.
I hadn’t planned on seeing Ryder, although, in all honesty, I was hoping he’d be there. My disappointment at not seeing him when I picked up the kids made me decide not to get my hopes up, just in case he wasn’t around when I returned. It was my lucky day when I found him lazing by the pool. He was like honey, and I was the bee—I couldn’t have resisted him even if I’d tried.
Tossing around in my bed, I knew I had to explain to Ryder why I couldn’t keep on seeing him. That it wasn’t because I was a snob or looked down on him. Because I didn't any longer. Shame washed over me as I remembered how I’d treated Ryder when I’d first met him. He was right—I’d acted like a bitch. But I had reasons.
Good reasons. One of them was because of my dear brother. My heart squeezed when I thought of him.
There was nothing cheerful about Harrison Summers. The permanent scowl on his handsome face only softened when he was at home, around me, and our parents. I loved Harrison with all my heart—he was the best brother a girl could wish for. Except that he was overbearingly protective, ever since the day of The Incident.
It took years of therapy to shake the guilt that it was my fault, and that I was to blame that Harrison was like this. Although it took place nearly ten years ago, whenever I had a flashback, it was as vivid as if it had happened only yesterday.
Ryder insisting on being in my life had brought on just such a flashback. I sat up, bewildered, images rushing through my brain.
No, please, I don't want to remember . . .
Huddled against the headboard, my knees drawn to my chest, I rocked myself as tears streamed freely down my cheeks.
***
Harrison kissed Amy and swatted her on the ass. “Go ahead with the others, babe. Get into the long line at the entrance. We don’t want to be late for the concert. Jade and I will catch up.”
He turned to me and laughed. “Hurry, Sis, you’re going to make us late. Go get your sweater—I’ll wait right here for you.” I was always losing stuff and luckily Harrison was patient with me. Love for my big brother surged through me—he knew me so well.
I nodded and ran back into the fast-food restaurant to get the sweater I’d accidentally left behind. It was my favorite; I’d be crushed if I lost it. Besides, it usually got cold in the evenings, and at outdoor events and I'd need it to keep me warm. Harrison and his other friends had girlfriends to cuddle with if they were cold. I was alone.
It was my first live concert, and adrenaline spiked my bloodstream—I didn’t want to miss a second of Karma Electric, they were my favorite band. I swiped up my sweater from where it had dropped on the floor.
I was lucky my parents had agreed to let me go to the event with Harrison on a week night, so I didn't want to spoil his evening. And I’d hoped Harrison would invite me again the next time he and his buddies went to a rock concert. Those were the perks of having an older brother. My friends at school were all jealous that I’d get to see the dreamy new lead singer of the band before they did.
“Got it?” Harrison shot me an impatient glance as he crushed the cigarette with his foot. I never knew my brother smoked till tonight.
“Yeah. Sorry. It was on the floor.”
“Put it on before you drop it again.”
Harrison chuckled as he watched Amy blow him a kiss, and tore his gaze away from the little group halfway across the large opening to help me dutifully into my sweater.
Gunshots rang out.
Both our heads jerked toward the ominous sound. What we saw would scar us for life. Both of Harrison’s friends and their girlfriends were mowed down, including Amy. I screamed so loudly that I couldn’t hear Harrison’s words to me, but his expression told me to stay put. I couldn’t have moved if I tried to, I was frozen to the spot. Pandemonium broke out around me. People were screaming hysterically, and running around blindly. I watched Harrison run across the patch of grass, reaching Amy just as the cops did.
Amy and the other four were caught in the crossfire between a biker gang and the police. Four were dead, and one survived. One of his friends, Michael, got shot in the knees, and fell down before more bullets could kill him.
Amy had been shot through the heart, and died minutes later in Harrison’s arms.
It was biker bullets that killed Amy and Harrison’s friends. With little regard for the lives of others, they’d shot at the cops who’d recognized them.
Harrison wanted to die. Said he should have been there with Amy. That if he had his arm around her, she may still have been alive. I shuddered at the thought—it would’ve meant my brother would be dead.
If it weren’t for me, both Harrison and I would’ve been with the group, but we may have been further along, avoiding the crossfire altogether. All it took was a few seconds to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was ALL my fault.
I should’ve been dead.
And Harrison wished he was.
Even now, after all these years.
***
The images had faded somewhat over time, but my heart was still breaking for the loss of those innocent young lives. I rubbed at my heart, trying to lessen the physical pain. Life would’ve been so different if that hadn’t happened.
From that day on, Harrison had hated bikers. He’d made it his life’s mission to stamp out biker clubs and crimes associated with them. Cleaning up the streets and banning groups of bikers from public places was what he dreamed about, because he never wanted an incident like that to repeat itself on innocent victims.
I got that.
Hell, I was on his side. We both recognized the gangster type immediately and had a strong aversion to anyone who was a biker in a MC. They were the scum of the earth.
Until Ryder.
Until I met a man who outwardly portrayed every one of those traits. I should hate him and his kind for what they did to Amy and the others. For what they did to me, and to Harrison.
Yet I couldn’t hate Ryder. Underneath that hardened exterior was just a man, one who had his own burdens weighing him down. Who the hell was I to judge him and his kind? I knew nothing of their pain or their reasons for being what they were.
But how could I explain that to Harrison? He wouldn’t even listen. For as stubborn as I was, Harrison was tenfold more so.
My head hurt from all the thinking. I had to get through to Ryder that we could never see one another again. That what had happened on the back of his bike and in the kitchen were a moment-of-madness mistake we couldn’t allow to be repeated.
My heart ached. It was going to be the hardest thing I’d ever done—to deny myself the feelings that flooded my being when I thought about Ryder Knox.
He felt them too—I didn't need a crystal ball to know that. Ryder never apologized for telling me blatantly just how much he wanted me, in every carnal and lustful way. There was a magnetism we couldn’t deny, a pull stronger than logic permitted. We were so different, yet we fitted so well together. It was beyond reasoning. Beyond anything I’d ever imagined. Not even the romance novels I consumed could have prepared me for this.
But I had to sacrifice my feelings of lust for Ryder because there no good could come of it. We were doomed from the start.
I. Had. To. Choose. My. Family.
Why had Ryder chosen Clarke and Sons Agency that day?
And why in hell could he not just let go? Move on?
And why, oh why was I so drawn to him, so weak when it came to resisting him?
Why?
Still bewildered by my emotions, I became aware of a strange noise. It reminded me of when I was a teenager and boys threw pebbles against my window. Then it dawned on me—that was exactly what it was. I scooted off the bed to the window as another pebble hit it smack in the middle of the glass. What little delinquent was pranking me at this tim
e of the night?
I pushed the window open and gasped. Ryder was standing there in the darkness, a lopsided grin on his handsome face. Fuck. This was worse than when I was a teenager. Back then I was too innocent to know better. A boy beneath my window sent my heart aflutter. Now other parts of me were fluttering, way down south from my heart.
“Let me in,” he demanded, his arms folded over his chest.
“Shhh,” I gestured, then shook my head.
“Fine,” he muttered and walked away. What? Was he giving up that easily? He disappeared out of sight around the corner, without any further protest. I was pretty disappointed, but it was better this way. I didn't want him to see that I’d been crying. I wiped my nose with my sleeve and crawled back in to bed.
I closed my eyes, confused even more. Why had Ryder come here? Why had he left without even trying? Was he finally listening to me? And did I really want him to?
“Fuck, Princess. You’re killing me.” Ryder stood in my doorway, his silhouette in the dark visible by the light of the moon. Was I dreaming?
“Ryder! W . . . what? H . . . how?” I switched on the bedside lamp.
“If you won’t let me in, I’ll let myself in.” He grinned, his gaze raking appreciatively up my semi-naked body. I was wearing only a tee and panties.
“But . . . but the doors are locked . . . and we have alarms . . .” Had Daddy forgotten to lock up?
Ryder chuckled softly. “Babe, nothing will stop me if I want to get in somewhere. Breaking in is an undervalued skill, and definitely one of my many talents.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.
“Yeah? And did you poison the Rottweiler?” Mom had insisted on having a trained guard dog. It made her feel safer. Bruno was alert and fierce, yet I hadn’t heard him growl or bark as he usually did when strangers came to the house.
“The pup and I are friends. I’m definitely not going to be his breakfast.” He sat on the bed, watching me.
My eyes widened. Bruno was a muscled brute of a dog; he hadn’t been a puppy in five years. How had Ryder gotten past Bruno? He didn't take kindly to strangers.
“Princess. You’ve been crying—tell me why.” His voice was hoarse, yet soft.
My throat was still thick, and tears sat just behind my eyelids, ready to spring forth again. I couldn’t speak. I wanted Ryder here more than anything, but I also wanted him to leave, for his own sake. I was so confused.
“Baby,” he said softly as he pulled me to his chest.
God it felt good. And the way he said the word baby, with the slightest dip in his voice as if he were affected too, made it sound sexy and comforting at the same time. My breath hitched—he’d called me baby—not babe, not bitch, not Princess. Just baby. And I loved it.
I let him hold me, let him stroke my back, soothing me while he hummed. This was a side of the tough, badass biker I doubted anyone had ever seen. Was he even aware he was doing it?
“Why did you come?” I whispered, my breath catching as I spoke.
“I’ll tell you . . . if you tell me why you’re crying,” he countered.
I fell silent for a long time, organizing my thoughts. Ryder kept rubbing my back, placing no pressure on me but waiting patiently for me to reply.
At last I spoke. It was as if the floodgates opened. I told him the whole story. Everything.
Ryder listened, only grunting occasionally, his fingers making small circular motions up and down my spine. I inhaled deeply, drawing his scent into my nostrils and basking in his warm embrace. He’d comforted me and lulled me into a relaxed state.
“Um, Ryder?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Now I’ve told you the whole story—why did you come?”
He was quiet for the longest time, but never resting his fingers. “Because I needed to be near you. Because I can never get enough of you. That’s why.”
He shifted down the bed, holding me in his arms. My head rested on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart.
“Sleep baby, I’ll hold you. It’s all OK. That shit happened a long time ago. None of it was your fault. None. You gotta let that go. OK?”
Drowsy, I nodded my head. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Why, I wasn’t sure. All I’d done, was tell Ryder my and Harrison’s story; the story I’d hidden deep inside for so long, trying to bury it. Yet now that I’d set it free, it no longer weighed as heavily on me.
Ryder had done for me what no therapist ever could. He’d gotten me to set the ugly past free. He’d even gotten me to start believing that maybe it wasn’t my fault after all. I sighed as he kissed the crown of my head, a shudder of utter relief running through my body, letting the tension flow away.
“Go to sleep. I’m here now.” His voice was like velvet, soft and soothing. Hypnotic. I drifted off into a peaceful sleep with Ryder holding me, feeling safe and secure.
Pure bliss.
Chapter 11 ~ Ryder
“Are you sure you’re up to this, brother?” I quirked an eyebrow at Cobra who was all dressed except for his cut, ready to go back to the compound for the first time since the shootout.
“Yeah. It’s time to sort out club business. Take my place at the gavel. Work out what we’re going to do.”
Cobra was stubborn. It made him the badass man he was. He never gave up, and he never gave in. OK, except to Mia. And his babies. But never to another man. Tough as fucking nails, he went head-to-head with his enemies.
We made small talk for most of the journey, both of us with our minds wandering elsewhere. So when we fell into a comfortable silence we just let it be, allowing ourselves the small pleasure of being lost in our own thoughts, without interruption.
I was between a rock and a hard place. I was falling for Jade, yet I knew her brother would string me up the first chance he got. Now that I’d finally gotten the story out of her, I wasn’t bitter or vengeful about his motives. Fuck, if that’d happened to me, I would’ve hunted the motherfuckers down and killed them with my bare fucking hands.
A part of me even respected the guy for wanting to protect his little sister. Remembering back to what I was willing to sacrifice to save Max’s life, I understood how Harrison Summers felt about Jade. Fuck, if it weren’t for our pasts, we could probably even have been friends.
But that wouldn’t stop me from putting a bullet in his skull if he threatened my family. Fuck, if he hurt any one of my brothers at the Scorpio Stinger MC I'd have to take him down. It was the code of our brotherhood. It was simply the way it worked, regardless of who the fucker was who tried to take a brother down.
Sighing heavily, I pulled up at the compound, in front of the heavy gates and pressed the button to let us in. While we waited, I couldn’t help noticing how derelict the warehouse was. Our headquarters appeared deserted. Usually there were bikes and people everywhere, but since the shootout, everyone kept cover as much as they could. We’d even built a fucking shed for the bikes so they could be locked up at night, ensuring nobody tampered with them. Yeah, we had to cover all our bases.
The gloomy clubhouse was in desperate need of restoration. Peeling paint and bullet holes in the walls had never bothered me before. I guess I’d been so used to its appearance that it’d seemed normal. Now it was depressing. Maybe it was because I'd been living in the fancy part of town for a while that I’d become aware of the stark contrast. Funny the things we get accustomed to.
This was not the day to help Cobra out of the SUV. Even though he struggled, sweat trickling down his forehead as he contorted his face in agony, I watched him get down the step by himself. Cobra was the pres of Scorpio Stinger MC, for fuck’s sake. He needed to maintain the respect of all the brothers. Show that a few bullets wouldn't stop him.
Suppressing the urge to put my arm around Cobra to support him, I walked to the door to hold it open. But before I could even reach the door, brothers came pouring out into the square to welcome their pres. The place that appeared so desolate moments before was transforme
d by all the familiar faces. The shouting and whistling startled me; I'd forgotten what a rowdy bunch these guys were.
Backslapping and brother-hugging with roars of laughter was a sure sign that everyone was relieved to have Cobra back at the helm. Yeah, it felt good to be home. I’d missed this place and these faces more than I cared to admit. Here, within these walls, I was just Ryder, a brother, like everyone else. It felt good to belong.
Ox lifted Cobra into his bulging arms, carrying him like a baby.
“Fuck, Pres, what have those people outside been feeding you? Rabbit food? Lettuce leaves ain't for biker boys. We gonna get a steak into you and feed you up.”
If I didn't know better I’d think that Ox fucking teared up, because he nearly choked on his last words.
“Yeah. And beer. Get Pres a fucking beer,” Ratbag piped up.
It was nine am, but that had never stopped the boys before, and today they had reason for celebration. Cobra let it go. He reveled in the attention, and knew his boys needed something to take their minds off the last few months. In time we’d get to the serious stuff, the business end of club matters. But for now, it was beer all ‘round.
Inside the clubhouse, Lexi was sliding one frothy glass after another across the counter like a pro. I had to admit I was impressed.
“Never seen a Sheila pull a beer so fast—she’s a fucking natural.” Ratbag laughed when he saw the puzzled look on my face. Wasn’t her name Lexi? “Yeah, Sheila is what we call bitches back in Australia.”
Ratbag never failed to amuse me with his strange way of talking and turns of phrases.
“Oi, Sheila, get our VP a beer, sweetheart,” he shouted at her.
Lexi didn't slide the beer across the counter to me like she did for the other guys. “You still owe me a visit from last time.” She winked as she handed me a beer, leaning over so I could see down her top and making damn sure her hand touched mine. She pouted her full lips and I had that feeling of déjà vu. I could swear I’d seen her somewhere, before she worked at the club as the barmaid.
Perplexed, I turned away and made a toast to Cobra, welcoming him back and wishing him a speedy recovery so that he’d be one hundred percent fit again.