Bound by Family (Ravage MC Bound Series Book One)

by Ryan Michele

  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.”

  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 him.

  “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.

  “I need you,” she whispers.

  “Put me in.”

  Bristyl pushes back just a bit, and then my cock finds the warmest, best place on the fucking planet. She moans as I groan.

  “I’m gonna fuck you so hard everyone in this place will hear you.”

  “Coop—”

  Her words are cut off when my hips pull back and thrust up hard and deep. I set a punishing pace as her fingers dig into my shoulders. Her gasps and noises are like music to my ears.

  She squeezes her core muscles, and I thrust harder, harder, harder; pounding, attacking, giving us both the perfect blend for pleasure.

  “I’m gonna …” She screams my name aloud, her nails biting into my skin and her head flying back to crash against the door.

  I give her no to time to recover. Instead, I walk her to the bed and take her without abandon until she comes again, and I follow behind her, my cock findings its release.

  Home.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The drive to Sumner, Georgia is quiet, if you don’t count the bikes in front of and behind me. It’s a bit much, but I’m ready to start a new life. One that’s for me. At the same time, nervousness fills me. Going out on my own—hell, going to a club I really know nothing about. It’s all wrapped in a tight ball, but my mother’s words ring in my head. “Live life by the balls, my Bristyl. Some chances are worth taking.” Funny how those words just came to me on the drive.

  I’ve thought a lot about my father and brothers and what happened back at the office. The dead body is something that will never escape my brain, no matter how hard I try. Those eyes staring at me … My body shivers.

  I’m also afraid for my father. He shot a man in cold blood. Going to jail and spending the rest of his years there isn’t an option. So many of us were witnesses to the murder. So much here could go totally wrong.

  What gets me, though, is my father himself. He thought for sure I’d fall in line, becoming something I’m not, instead of standing up to Wolf in the first place. The politics of a motorcycle club are different, my mother used to tell me. She said they were stricter, and one didn’t go against the president unless there was a damn good reason. It scares me, yet I feel like he did it to protect me.

  Then there is the sadness that I wasn’t a damn good reason for my father in the first place. Or maybe I’m seeing this wrong. None of it makes sense. Why wouldn’t he or my brothers have my back? At least try. Or maybe they did. There are many unanswered questions, but I didn’t go back to Sinisters before we left. The thought of seeing them again hurt.

  Even though they want me back in the fold, the problem is trust. All those years we built it. My brothers always on my case about this or that, pushing guys away from me like I’d get some horrible disease. My father was the same. The why is something I can’t get over.

  I love them and my hope is after time, after we both get our heads on straight, we can talk and work this mess out. Right now, it’s too raw. It’s a wound that is fresh, and the pain is still sinking in. One thing I do know is that I don’t want to see him in an orange jump suit.

  The bikes slow, coming up to gigantic compound. I say that, because it’s what it is. This place is bigger than Sinisters. The tall, concrete walls around the place with the fencing and barbed wire make it look like a prison of some kind.

  The gates slide open, and I ease the gas slowly, taking in the space. An extremely large building sitting off to the left, also made of concrete. There are few windows, but they are small, horizontal rectangles, instead of normal vertical ones.

  There’s a huge courtyard, with a fire pit, picnic tables, chairs, loungers, and a massive grill. Then, off to the side of that, there is a monstrosity of a playground that has swings, a slide, monkey bars, climbers, and more. Off to the right is a large garage building with Banner Automotive written at the top. This is where Cooper works. Interesting.

  In front of the garage is a huge lot with cars, and on the opposite side is where bikes are lined up. The guys park their bikes there, and I follow with my car on the other side. Ryker had his bike, so that left me to
drive the Challenger back.

  “This is where you live?” I ask Cooper as he comes up to the side of my car. I’m overwhelmed by the size of the place, but a bit more on the way the sunlight shines off Cooper’s hair. Damn, that man is sexy. “I mean, I know you have a house with the guys, but this is where you grew up?”

  “Part of the time. It’s home.”

  Screams of a child pierce the calm, and I whip around to see where it’s coming from. Through the door of the largest building, several older woman and children come rushing out.

  A woman with beautiful blonde hair, shorter than mine, comes up to GT and wraps her arms around him, kissing him hard. A teenage girl follows behind, her eyes on everyone, but on one in particular.

  “That’s Angel, GT’s ol’ lady,” Cooper says in my ear.

  A knock-out woman with brunette hair and a body so fit I swear she’s in her early thirties moves over to Tug, wrapping him up tight.

  “That’s Blaze,” Cooper tells me.

  They have to have a rule here. Guys must be hot. Women must be hotter. I so don’t fit in.

  “You’re back.” This comes from a woman with hair so dark it’s almost purple. She strolls up to Buzz with a smirk on her face, and he pulls her to him and kisses her breathlessly.

  “That’s Bella,” Cooper informs me.

  “Where’s Tanner and Mearna?” Dagger asks the woman.

  “They’re at your house. Mearna said they were doing some art something or the other,” Blaze responds.

  “Fuck, boys, I’m goin’ home to make some art.” Scary Rhys claps a few of the guys on the shoulders as he takes off.

  Cooper makes introduction, and each of them are very nice and welcoming. What’s not welcoming is the woman sitting on a white plastic chair with dark hair and red streaks throughout it. She looks pissed as hell at something; either that I’m here or that the guys are back, I’m not sure which. The way she cracks her knuckles, though, is not reassuring on my end.

  Cooper laughs at something one of the guys says, not seeing the woman stand up and come our way. Not going to lie, part of me screams that I should run and hide, that she’ll tear me a new asshole and then some. But I refuse. With straight shoulders and head held high, I meet her head-on.