Ride or Die #2: A Devil's Highwaymen MC Novel

by Claire C. Riley

  No man should ever make a woman feel like that. Ever. I may fuck women and leave them hanging, but I’d never make her fear me. And I was not going to stand by and let either of them think that any of this shit was okay. I might have been a violent motherfucker, but I was never a violent motherfucker toward women. My grandma raised me right.

  I turned back to Harlow and placed my palm against her cheek, feeling the warmth of her salty tears run in between my fingers. Her eyes were wide and fearful and full of pain as she leaned into my touch and stared into my eyes.

  “Let’s just go, Casa,” she sobbed. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it fucking matters, girl,” I replied. The corner of my mouth pulled up in a smile. “You fucking matter.”

  Her eyes widened on those last words—words that I hadn’t meant to say but had somehow slipped out regardless. I turned away to face Dom, watching as he stormed toward me like the big motherfucker that he was, all brawn and no brain, and I crouched like a motherfucking quarterback and charged at him. My shoulder hit his stomach and he grunted as I pushed forward until he lost his footing and fell backwards, slamming into the earth with a thud.

  And then I motherfucking rained on his parade.

  His hands reached up to grab at me, but I was quicker than him and I slammed my fist into his ribs and then hooked my other fist into his right side. He twisted and writhed under me as I sent fist after fist into him, enjoying the feel of his tenderizing muscles.

  Dom suddenly lurched with his hips and flipped me off of him, and I slammed to my knees before staggering up to my feet and turning to face him again. I barely got to give him a cocky smirk when his large fist slammed into my jaw and sent me stumbling backwards.

  “Always gotta get involved in everything, right, Casa?” he yelled and punched at me again, but this time I blocked it.

  “You know me, Dom, like to stick my dick into everything,” I taunted, and ducked as he punched out again.

  “Why can’t you just stay away from her? From us? She’s got nothing to do with you!” Dom’s face was red with rage, his hair disheveled and hanging to one side.

  “She’s got everything to do with me, brother. Everything!” And it was the truest thing I’d ever said, hence why I quickly followed it up with something stupid. “She called me, motherfucker. I’m a pussy magnet, what can I say?” I chuckled and took the punch that he landed on my jaw like a fucking champ, because I probably deserved that one.

  “She’s mine!” Dom roared, his eyes looking bloodshot. “Mine! I love her!”

  “You always beat on the things you love?” I growled back, because now I was getting seriously pissed off with him.

  “I never fucking touched her!” he snarled back, his hands hitting me on either shoulder to push me until I stumbled backwards.

  “She ain’t yours, Dom!” I snarled in his face.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I replied between gritted teeth.

  “Well she ain’t yours either!” he argued.

  I glared at him, hoping he’d take the fucking hint that I was going to rip his hands off if he didn’t let go of me in the next ten seconds.

  “I’m no one’s!” H screamed from behind us. “No one’s, God damn you both!”

  Dom and I turned to look at her, and I’ll be damned if she didn’t look like a ferocious fucking tiger right then, all red hair and fire in her eyes. Goddamned beautiful is what she looked.

  “I don’t belong to you, or anyone. And you might love me, but it’ll never be the right way to love someone, will it, Dom?” She stomped forward, little hands on little hips, tits jiggling in her low-cut top. Damn.

  “We can make it work,” Dom yelled back, turning his back on me. “I’ll try!”

  H laughed and shook her head. “Is that all I’m worth? A try? Don’t I deserve more than that, Dom?”

  Dom grabbed his head in his hands. “That’s all I’ve got, Harlow. I’m giving you everything I can.”

  “But it’s not enough! It will never be enough. I want the sort of love that you feel deep inside, that burns you upon contact. That makes it hard to breathe when you’re apart. I want you to lay with me and never want to be anywhere else, with anyone else. To hold me, to love me, to fuck me like I’m the only person in the world! Don’t I deserve that?” She sobbed harder, her hair wild about her face, and something inside me twisted. “And don’t you deserve that too?”

  I shivered and shook it off. Felt like someone had walked over my grave or some shit.

  Dom had gone silent, and he dropped to his knees with his head in his hands. She walked toward him carefully until she crouched down to his level, and every muscle in my body tensed, ready to pounce on him if he reached for her.

  “I want what you can’t ever give me, Dom. And it’s okay, I’m okay with that now, I promise you I am. Because I truly want you to be happy, and I know that the sort of happiness you deserve, I can’t give you. I’ve accepted that, and you need to too.” She reached out and stroked his hair and I watched Dom come apart under her touch. It was like watching a miracle happen. His shoulders shook as she stood back up, and he grabbed her around the legs and she buried her hands in his hair. “I won’t let you live a lie anymore, Dom, because we both deserve the sort of love that you’d die for. We both deserve so much more than what we can give each other.”

  She pried his hands off of her and my insides twisted again as I watched her walk away from Dom and head back to my bike. I followed her, the feeling twisting more and more. I sat on my bike and the feeling only eased when she wrapped her arms around my middle. What the fuck was happening to me?

  “You ready?” I asked, my voice full of gravel as I fought the urge to pull her arms tighter around me. My dick was ready to explode in my jeans, but it was my chest that was more concerning. Felt like I was having a heart attack or something.

  “Get me out of here, Casa, please,” she said, her words a breath against my neck and sending shivers through my entire body.

  I pulled out of the driveway, leaving Dom on his knees, and I didn’t look back. I should have felt bad about leaving a brother like that, about choosing pussy over brotherhood, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Instead I focused on the road in front of me, Harlow sitting behind me, and the unfamiliar feeling growing inside of me.

  *

  I drove us to a diner just off the highway, and I slid into a booth while Harlow went to the bathroom. I ordered us both a coffee, and the waitress was pouring them when Harlow came back. She’d washed her face free of tears, but her cheeks were still red and blotchy. But it was her eyes that bothered me. They looked sad, like she’d lost a fucking war, and I scrambled to say something to cheer her up.

  Had no idea why it mattered so much, only that it did. Because seeing the sad look on her face was giving me a stomachache.

  “Looking much better, pretty girl,” I said to her as the waitress walked away.

  Harlow stared out the window, my words falling on deaf ears. She let out a slow, shuddering breath, and I cleared my throat and tried again to gain her attention.

  “So? What now? You need me to take you back home?” I asked, pouring a spoon of sugar into my coffee.

  She shook her head, her gaze still outside the window, her hands wrapped around her own coffee. She clung to it like it was a lifeline and she was freezing from a winter storm. I poured another sugar into mine.

  “Friend’s house maybe?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Aunt? Uncle?” I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “Second cousin?”

  She turned to face me, her eyes glassy and ready to spill more tears. “I’ve got no one.”

  And fuck me, she sounded defeated. Lonely. Heartbroken. But mostly she just sounded sad as fuck. She tucked some of her hair behind her ears, and I fought to stop the smile from my face. H had little elf ears. The tiniest points to the top of them. She really was a fucking fantasy.

  “You must have someone or
somewhere to go,” I said, pouring another sugar, and she shook her head again, the tears finally spilling free. “Where the fuck did you even come from, H? Mars?”

  Because that’s what it was beginning to feel like—like this chick was from Mars or some shit.

  She shook her head and sniffled.

  “Narnia? Neverland? Middle-motherfucking-earth?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

  She wiped at the tears on her cheeks and laughed. “Somewhere like that.”

  “Yeah?” I said, with a grin. “The suspense is fucking killing me, girl, so this shit better be good.”

  “Ansley Park,” she said with a blush.

  It was my turn to laugh. “You’re from the happy-fucking-homes garden suburb of Georgia? And yet you’re here, in this shithole…on your own?”

  “Well, technically I was in Atlanta,” she corrected.

  “As a club whore for the West Side Bangers,” I smarted, and felt like a piece of shit for doing so when her cheeks flamed redder and she looked away from me, the light mood broken.

  She shrugged, sad again. “It’s a real long story.”

  “Is it really?” I asked. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like it’s gotta be a quick fall from a princess to whore.” I tasted my coffee and decided it wasn’t sweet enough yet, and poured another sugar in it before giving it a final stir. Or maybe it was my own bitter words that were making my coffee taste bad.

  “No, I guess when you put it like that, it’s not,” she sighed.

  “Seems like you had it all going for you—rich family, rich neighborhood, middle-class white girl no doubt growing up with two affluent parents, am I close enough?” She cocked an eyebrow at me and I laughed. “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious how your cards were laid out for you, girl. So what happened? Mommy and Daddy didn’t hug you enough at bedtime? Your goldfish die real young and there was no time for therapy to get over the trauma?”

  I didn’t need to put it like that, but it pissed me off that she had blown it all—her future, her happily ever after, and for what? Probably didn’t have enough money in her trust fund. Yet even as I thought it, I knew it wasn’t that. Harlow wasn’t that sort of girl.

  “Guess you got me all figured out, Casa.” She shrugged.

  She looked at me, a small frown on her face. She didn’t looked pissed off at me, though; she looked hurt. I was judging her the way I had always been judged. Well, up until joining the Highwaymen. Now no motherfucker judged me unless they wanted a bullet in their skull.

  “Or maybe I don’t,” I replied. “Why don’t you clarify it for me.”

  “My story is like most tragic stories. Boy loves girl, boy breaks girl’s heart, and then girl loses everything.” She looked down at her hands while she spoke, but inside I was pleading with her to look up at me. Because looking into Harlow’s gaze was like staring into the purest of souls. It was beautiful and harrowing all at the same time. And I thrived on seeing that kind of pain.

  “The girl being you, and the boy being—Dom,” I said matter-of-factly. I took another sip of my coffee to hide the hitch in my voice when she looked up and her gaze connected with mine.

  “Something like that,” she said with another sad smile.

  “Sounds rough.” I poured another sugar in my coffee and she laughed. “What?”

  “Do you want some coffee to go with your sugar?” She nodded toward my mug and I smirked.

  “What can I say? I have a sweet tooth. I’m a man who knows what he likes, and this man likes the taste of—” My words died off, because the usual reply I gave to women didn’t seem right on H. “Yeah, I have a sweet tooth.” I sipped my coffee and she gave me another small smile in return.

  Felt like the biggest fucking smile in the world, though.

  We drank the rest of our coffees in silence, both of us staring out the window. Though I’d sneak a look at her as much as I could.

  Her profile was amazing, as if carved from the rarest stone. Sounded like a pussy even thinking that, but beneath all the biker shit I was an artist. Painting, drawing, that was what I did when the nights were long and my body wasn’t ready to sleep. Or when I was chasing nightmares and trying to stay awake. It was a habit my grandma had gotten me into early because she knew I had too much energy rolling around inside of me. It was either get me into a good habit or I’d end up either killing myself or someone else. Of course the latter happened anyway.

  “You’re staring,” H said, drawing my mind back to the present. She forced a smile and I chuckled.

  “Sorry, I was wondering what your tits looked like.” I winked.

  She shook her head. “You’re disgusting.”

  “That’s a first,” I replied, putting hand to my chest. “I’m fucking wounded.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Anyone ever told you that you’re an asshole?”

  “Not really. I mean, I get called a lot of things, but never an asshole.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  I cocked an eyebrow and ran my tongue over my bottom lip. “Been called pussy magnet, orgasm bringer, SS.”

  “SS?” she interrupted with a confused look.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Snatch sultan!” I winked.

  “See? Disgusting,” she said, but she said it with a laugh. “What about the milkman?”

  “Come again?” I laughed.

  “Ever been called the milkman?”

  “Should I have been?” I leaned back in the booth and let my arms rest over the tops of the seat as I watched her. Loved how everyone in the diner was watching me, half crazed with fear or jealousy. Fear because they knew who I was and what I could do, and jealousy because of the hot girl I was sitting with. I was one lucky motherfucker for sure.

  “Well, the milkman always delivers.” She winked.

  It took a moment, and then I almost fell out of the booth laughing. That was it. I was dead. Fucking dead. And this woman was the one who was killing me.

  “Definitely from Mars,” I said between laughs. “Because there’s no way someone as beautiful as you could be funny as well.” I laughed.

  The waitress came over and asked if we wanted another coffee, but I barely acknowledged her, instead choosing to continue laughing while I waved her away.

  “Brilliant. Fucking brilliant, H.” I swallowed the last of my coffee and looked at her, my smile falling when I saw the look on her face. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my hand going to my gun at my waist as I looked around the diner for whatever—or whoever—was causing that look on her face.

  “You think I’m beautiful?” she asked seriously, her wide eyes watching me.

  My gaze shot back to hers and my hand moved from my gun. I took a deep breath and nodded, coming to a decision. Probably the wrong decision, but a decision all the same. I’d lived my life one way for a very long time, and there was no way one woman was coming into my life and making me change.

  Not even one with tits as perfect as hers.

  Or an ass that looked as juicy as a peach.

  Or with lashes as thick and long as hers.

  Or that look she got when she was turned on, but was equally in denial about being so.

  Didn’t matter who she was. I liked my life, and no woman was going to make me change.

  “Of course I think you’re beautiful. I think anything with a snatch and tits is beautiful.” I winked.

  She seemed unfazed by my comment, her gaze boring into mine for several more moments like she saw right through me before she looked away. I rubbed the back of my neck uncomfortably and watched her, wanting to say something but not knowing how to.

  I didn’t mean what I said. I liked her, there was no denying that, but I was not a good man and wouldn’t be able to give her the life that she wanted. I’d listened to her with Dom. The way she cried and pleaded for love. It was hot as hell how strong she was and how determined she was to have her happily ever fucking after. I didn’t know much about Harlow, but I knew that she deserved that. I also knew t
hat I couldn’t ever be the one to give it to her. I was rotten to the core.

  “I should go,” she said softly, her gaze still out the window, her little teeth gnawing on her bottom lip.

  I didn’t want her to leave—not yet. I liked being around her, near her. Made me feel like there was more to my world than what I thought. Like Earth had expanded way beyond the borders that I was used to. She made me feel fucking invincible, like I could ride my bike all the way to Mars.

  She started to push herself out of the booth, her denim jacket in her grip, and I nodded okay, threw twenty dollars on the table, and followed her out of the restaurant.

  Back outside, with no A/C or smell of coffee to distract me, it was quiet. The space inside my skull that was normally full of a thousand different things was empty, like she’d somehow quieted the world. Or maybe the world had just quieted down to hear what she had to say, because every time she spoke, I lost my train of thought.

  Harlow turned to me and held out her hand, and I stared at it in confusion. “Gotta go,” she said. “Last train to Mars.” She winked.

  I took her hand, my stomach aching, as she shook it and let me go.

  “Sorry if I caused any trouble for you…with Dom. I never meant for any of that.”

  I nodded in understanding and then she smiled.

  “Go easy on him. He’s been through a lot.”

  “Don’t think I can. There’s never an excuse for hitting on a woman,” I replied.

  “Never said he hit me, Casa.”

  “No, you said he’d turned into a psycho and you were scared of what he was going to do,” I clarified. “And that shit ain’t okay.”

  She shook her head. “Dom’s been hurting me for a long time, but not on the surface. In here,” she said, pointing to her heart. And if this chick thought she was calming me down, she was wrong. Because knowing that Dom had been a part of her heart only made me angrier. “He’s annoyed now because I won’t let him in anymore. And he’s hurting for that. So like I said, go easy on him. He’s a good man, just like you are.”

  Everything faded into the background as I listened to her, one thing standing out way more than everything else. “You think I’m a good man?”