by S. Nelson
We all nodded. Even though our club had gone legit, cutting off all ties with Los Zappas Cartel and the drug trade, we still dealt with whomever we deemed a threat. There wasn’t anything we wouldn’t do to protect our family, both at the club and at home.
“Has anyone been able to describe the guy?” Trigger asked, fidgeting in his chair like he was uncomfortable with the topic. He had every right to be twitchy; not only was he concerned about his brothers, but his niece, Adelaide, was involved with Stone. They even had a kid together, with another on the way.
“All they could tell us was that he was about six foot, had short dark hair and tats runnin’ up both arms,” Tripp offered, the nomad becoming quite the permanent fixture at the oblong wooden table. He’d come to stay with our club, giving up the open road for the time being. When Indulge first opened, Marek had asked him to stick around and see that everything fell into place. It just so happened that he met his woman, Reece, there, pulling out all stops to keep her safe, which unfortunately included dealing with her crazy ex-husband. And by dealing with . . . well, I supposed it was self-explanatory.
“That could be any of ’em,” Cutter replied, shaking his head in obvious disgust. Breck was sitting to the right of his ol’ man, pissed off right along with him. Hell, we all had the same anger bubbling up inside, threatening to explode given the right time and opportunity.
“Yeah it could be,” Stone said. “We’ll just have to take out every one of those fuckers. That’ll solve the problem,” he grunted, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the hard surface of the table.
“No one is gonna do a damn thing until I give the go-ahead,” Marek warned, looking to Stone first, then the rest of us. “Just like with everything else in the past, I know you all want revenge, and to put this threat to bed once and for all, but we have to be smart about this. More now than ever before. That sonofabitch Koritz is gonna be watchin’, waiting for us to fuck up. And now we have to also deal with that bastard Rabid.”
“Who knew that guy would be a threat?” Jagger asked, scratching his jaw with one hand while drumming the fingers of his other on the edge of the table.
Marek leaned closer, his blue eyes darkening in seriousness and anger. “I underestimated him. It won’t happen again.” The rasp of his tone indicated he held the majority of his temper at bay.
A bout of silence ensued, all of us processing what could potentially take place in the upcoming days, weeks and even months. We simply had no idea what to expect, except the unexpected. If history was any sort of indication.
“Do we have eyes on Rabid?” I asked, looking around the room before finally resting my attention on Marek.
“Hawke.”
Without thinking, I blurted, “Is that the smartest choice?” I took a breath to continue to speak but Hawke cut me off by slamming his fist down and shooting me the dirtiest look. Hawke and I had our issues, mainly itching to always get a rise out of the other, but there was no bad blood between us.
I may’ve just changed that.
“What the fuck does that mean?” he shouted, rising halfway from his chair as if he was set to lunge over the table at me. His eyes were wild with ferocity and I feared if he didn’t get a grip soon, we’d be goin’ toe-to-toe in the next several seconds.
Tripp sat next to his younger brother. The nomad shot me a disbelieving look before placing his hand on Hawke’s shoulder, doing his best to try and calm him down before things escalated out of control.
“Settle down, man. I just meant that you might be a little too close to this, more so than the rest of us.” Confusion shrouded his expression. “After everything that happened with Edana, can you seriously tell us you won’t do something drastic if given the opportunity?” I had my doubts he’d be able to restrain himself. Not that I’d blame him, but when it came to being strategic, we had to hold off until Marek gave the orders. Any other move and a shitstorm could blow back our way and devastate the entire club forever.
Slowly lowering himself back into his seat, he replied, “I’m not gonna fuck it up.” He closed his mouth and turned toward Marek, no longer wanting to engage me in any further conversation.
“I didn’t say you would.”
“Yes you fuckin’ did. When you questioned me.” He was still facing Marek when he responded.
“All right. Calm down. Both of you,” Marek shouted, then sighed. “I’m too young for this,” he mumbled, pushing his chair back from the lip of the table.
“What about that fucker who’s making threats to our women?” Stone threw out that question, locking eyes solely on his best friend for the answer.
“Keep watch over them.” Stone’s mouth dropped open. “Hey, he came up to Adelaide and Sully. Don’t forget that. My wife is just as upset as your woman.”
“I know. I know,” Stone said, shaking his head in aggravation. “I just hate the thought that anyone has the balls to approach Addy and freak her out with some lame-ass threat. I’m stressed out the way it is, constantly worrying about her and Riley. And now that Addy’s pregnant. . . .” Stone stopped speaking, emotion rising in his voice and threatening to crumble the man right in front of all of us.
I feared for Braylen’s safety every day. I could only imagine how I’d feel if she was my fiancée, or wife, or had my kid. It would only amplify the issue until I was giving myself a daily heart attack.
“We’ll get ’em. He can’t hide forever. Until then, keep your eyes and ears open. If you have to deal with family stuff and need someone to replace you in the rotation at Jagger’s fights, or checking in on things at Indulge and Flings, just let me know. We’re all in the same boat.” Grabbing the gavel, he said, “Is there anything else?”
Everyone just shook their heads.
Braylen
Loud voices outside woke me from sleep, rousing me only hours after I’d drifted off to dreamland. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the longer I laid there, the more evident it became that the voices were familiar.
One was from the man who continued to confuse the hell out of me, twisting me all around until I didn’t know which end was up, and the other was from the man who was completely head over heels for my sister.
I threw off the covers and groggily shuffled toward my window, tossing it open and leaning my head outside.
“What are you two doing?” I yelled, the night’s breeze blowing strands of my blonde hair back in my face. I was sure I looked the sight, but ask me if I cared. Not a minute later, I heard my bedroom door open but didn’t bother to look behind me, knowing it was Kena who had come to see what all of the commotion was about.
“He insisted I bring him here,” Jagger finally answered, supporting Ryder under his left arm to help hold him upright. Ryder wasn’t drunk off his ass but he was definitely feeling no pain.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“’Cause I need ta see ya,” Ryder slurred, shoving Jagger away from him. “Ya need ta stahhhh . . . stop ignorin’ me, toots.”
Kena tapped my shoulder. Toots? She rubbed at her eyes, smiling at me and then down at the sight on the street.
“Sorry for waking you, baby,” Jagger shouted, louder than he needed to. He’d been drinking as well, but not nearly as much as his buddy next to him.
“Go home,” I said, leaning back into my room. As my hands came up to pull down the window, Ryder started shouting.
“Woman! If you don’t let me inside I’m gonna bust down your front door.”
“No he won’t,” Jagger jumped in, having the decency to look somewhat embarrassed.
“I will. I’ll da . . . do it.”
“Why?”
“’Cause you won’t get outta here,” Ryder confessed, pointing to his head before taking several steps toward our front door. Within seconds the pounding started. Jagger was still under the streetlight, shaking his head and shrugging when Ryder just wouldn’t let up.
“Fine, but stop banging. We do have neighbors, you know.”
/> “I don’t shit.”
“I’m sure you do,” Jagger razzed, laughing full-on when Ryder tried to swing at him, almost falling on his ass.
“You kn . . . know what I meant,” he garbled.
Kena and I walked through the house until we reached the front door. As my fingers circled the handle, my sister tapped my arm once more.
Are you sure you want to let him in? If you really don’t want to see him, I’ll tell Jagger to take him away. Your choice. She stood back to give me space, gifting me with a sympathetic look. She knew I was torn up over Ryder because I’d confided as much after a few glasses of wine the other day.
“May as well get this over with.” My sister nodded. I pulled open the door and was almost hit in the face. Ryder had his fist raised, ready to pound the wood when I’d suddenly appeared.
“’Bout time,” he grumbled before entering our house, not a care in the world that I’d told him to go home moments prior. “You got anythin’ to drink?”
“You’ve had enough,” Jagger and I said simultaneously. Grinning, Jagger kicked the door closed behind him before grabbing Kena’s hand, leading her back to her room and leaving Ryder and me alone, standing in the middle of the entryway just staring at each other.
After neither of us spoke, I flipped the deadbolt and turned around, heading toward the couch. I doubt he’d be able to make it much farther, so the sofa seemed like the best idea.
Planting myself down, I folded my arms over my chest, much like I’d done at his place right before we started arguing about him not opening up.
“What do you want? What couldn’t wait until a decent hour?” My eyes raked over him as he leaned against the wall, no doubt needing the structure’s support to hold him up. His dark eyes were glazed over and droopy but he was still coherent. He looked scrumptious, even while inebriated. His dark hair was sticking up on top, the result of him tugging at it I was sure. His teeth captured his bottom lip while he contemplated his answer. “Well?” I prompted.
“I wanna see ya.”
“Why? You made it perfectly clear you don’t wanna let me in. That we’re nothin’ more than just fuck buddies, so why the scene? Why all the dramatics?”
He pushed off the wall and slowly put one foot in front of the other. The look in his eyes was definitely predatory. Drunk or not, Ryder had a way of making me feel all hot and bothered with a simple glance.
Damn him, and damn my overactive hormones.
“Stop right there,” I warned. “We’re not doin’ anything. You can sleep on the couch, but then you have to leave in the morning. I’m not staying out here with you, and you sure as hell aren’t coming to my bedroom.” I made a move to stand, but he was on me before I could get my feet underneath me.
His hands wrapped around my waist and as he crashed down on the couch, he spun me around and hoisted me on top of him. It happened so fast I had no time to fight him. The only thing I could do was plant my hands on his hard chest to ensure I didn’t fall over. I straddled his lap, and he wasted no time leaning in and trying to kiss me, but I dodged his advances before his mouth could connect with mine. While I wanted nothing more than to give myself to him, he’d only hurt me. One way or another.
“Stop it, Ryder. I mean it. You can’t just wake me up in the middle of the night, barge into my house and have sex with me. It doesn’t work that way.” I struggled to get off him, but his hold was fierce. Not painful but definitely strong.
“I can’t.”
“You can’t what?” He didn’t answer me right away, so I tilted my head and repeated, “You can’t what?”
“I can’t get you out of my head.” He leaned forward, his warm breath lapping over my collarbone. The smell of beer would’ve been overpowering had his other scents not filled my nose as well. One of leather, the outdoors and his natural male scent.
“So you said.”
“I’m not foolin’ ’round here, baby.” He raised his head and his mouth was millimeters from mine, his tongue wetting his bottom lip and turning me on like he normally did. I hated my body’s reaction, and the last thing I wanted to do was give in to this type of behavior, but I feared my heart and hormones were going to win the battle against my brain.
“Really? ’Cause I thought that’s all we were doing.” I arched my brow, leaning back so our faces weren’t so close.
“I didn’t mean it,” he confessed. “You just got me all twisted up inside.” He threw his head back against the top of the couch, his hold on my waist still ironclad. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. All I do is worry.”
“What do you mean ‘worry’?” I knew the answer as soon as I asked, but thankfully he didn’t remind me of the supposed threat.
Again I tried to move and again he held me to him, my thighs on the outside of his muscular ones. If I sat in the same position for too long, I’d start to cramp up, and then he’d have to let me up. Unfortunately I was probably close to ten minutes from that situation.
And a lot could happen in ten minutes.
Bodies could become one in ten minutes. Then again, hearts could be crushed in ten minutes as well.
“Can’t you forgive me?” he asked, that time looking directly into my eyes. I studied every facet of his face, like I’d done many times before, only this time there was a sadness and vulnerability laced behind his stunning browns that I hadn’t seen before. Maybe he really was all twisted up inside like he’d said.
“You never apologized,” I reminded him. “Not once did you say you were sorry.”
His hands moved from my waist and traveled up my body, finding their place on my cheeks. He pulled me close, his mouth practically touching mine when he said, “I’m sorry, baby. Please forgive me.”
My answer was to seal my lips to his, my tongue searching for his warmth as he writhed beneath me. His hardened excitement elicited a primal need inside me, one I was powerless to control, let alone stop. The heat from him fueled my own, the need to crawl inside him such an odd feeling, yet it made perfect sense to me. As he dominated me with his kiss and while his hands cupped and squeezed my breasts, pinching my nipples through my thin camisole, I couldn’t help but think that if we had sex right then, nothing would change.
Ryder would continue to keep me at bay, throwing me tiny scraps of affection and wilted promises whenever the mood, or alcohol, struck him. If I had any hope of recovering from the already brutal attack he’d had on my heart, then I needed to stop giving in to him.
One more second.
Okay, two more seconds. Then I’ll pull away.
Oh hell, I had to slowly count to twenty before I ended the kiss, pushing off his large frame and stumbling to my feet. He reached for me, the frown painting his face enticing me to jump right back into his arms.
This man is dangerous.
“I need to go back to bed now.” I backed up a few steps, keeping a close eye on him for any sudden movements.
“I’ll come with you,” he offered, trying to push off the couch, a feat which failed miserably as he simply couldn’t find his footing. Our sofa was worn in and super comfy, the cushions molding to the body like a second skin. Add in a large, muscular man, whose reflexes were compromised from drinking, and there was no way he was getting off the couch without some help. And I knew if I approached him, he’d just yank me back down on top of him.
Ryder quickly gave up, his eyes starting to close as his body leaned to the side. Eventually he ended up lying on his back, his right foot resting on the floor while his left one was stretched out in front of him. Reaching behind me, I grabbed a blanket from the recliner and draped it over him. Pulling off his boots, I tossed them to the side and tucked the edges of the blanket underneath him. I watched as his breathing evened out, a peace drifting over him as if nothing in the world bothered him. Too bad I knew it was only a façade. Ryder was plagued by things he deemed too dark to ever confess.
When I turned and quietly walked across the room, about to turn the corner, I heard hi
m say, “I saw him kill my mom. How do I ever get over something like that?”
I stopped dead in my tracks, every muscle on lockdown while I waited for another confession, but no other words filled the air.
Ryder
The blare of a car alarm jolted me awake, my hands instantly clutching my head to try and stop the pounding. Normally, I didn’t suffer from hangovers; I must’ve drank an awful lot of shitty beer last night.
I hadn’t been so out of it that I didn’t remember what happened, however. I knew damn well I’d threatened Jagger to drive me to Braylen’s house, the need to see her greater than I’d ever felt before in my life. With minimal reluctance, he’d finally agreed, not so much to help me out but because I was sure he wanted to spend time with Kena. Either way, mission accomplished.
I remembered pulling Braylen on top of me as I fell onto the couch, then apologizing and spewing something about not being able to get her out of my head. Then kissing her sweet lips. Then trying to get off the couch but failing, my body finally giving in to exhaustion, the alcohol flowing through my veins thickening and rendering me useless.
As I struggled to sit up, I suddenly remembered the worst thing of all. My hands came up to cradle my face, a groan of disbelief barreling from my mouth as I tried like hell to wish it away. I’d said out loud that I saw my mother killed in front of me.
Did she hear me? Had she left the room by the time the words escaped? If she did hear me, will she ask me about it? So many questions, none of which I would find the answer to unless I brought it up.
Reaching inside my jeans, I pulled my phone out to check the time—5:00 a.m. A sudden feeling of nerves took hold, so I scrambled off the couch, almost fell the fuck over, righted myself and went in search of Jagger. I needed the keys to his truck. I had to get out of there before Braylen woke up, before she decided to shrink me into telling her all about my sordid past.
After briefly returning home, I showered, changed and headed toward the club, remnants of my drunken haze still lingering. Being alone with my thoughts was the last thing I wanted to do. I needed a distraction, and who better to gift me with such a thing than my brothers. While it was still relatively early—six thirty, to be exact—I was sure someone would be there. And if not, then I’d set up at the bar and start forgetting right away.