Devil's Ride: RBMC Tonopah, NV

by Nikki Landis

  Brilliant sunlight surrounded her body like a halo, and I wondered briefly how the rays beamed down from above exactly right to give her such an angelic appearance.

  “My parents fight a lot,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. “I don’t like it.”

  Her voice wavered and I immediately wanted to offer her comfort like she had given me.

  “Do you want Cuddles back?”

  She shook her head. “No. You need him more.”

  Smart kid.

  “Why do you wear jeans and leather? It’s really hot.”

  I nearly laughed but my side was aching from where I hit the ground and I held back a groan. “I’m a biker. I like to ride motorcycles.”

  She pursed her lips. “I think you should stop doing that. You’re hurt and so is the other man over there.” She pointed to the body. “He’s not waking up.”

  Fuck. My memory was starting to return, and I worried this girl and her family were in danger. The Scorpions were probably looking for me and Keys. It wasn’t safe.

  The sound of multiple motorcycles approaching caught everyone’s attention.

  “Honey, what are you doing!?” The girl’s father snatched her up and headed for their car.

  “What are we going to do?” The mother asked, standing outside one of the doors.

  “We’ll stop and call at the next exit. We’ve got to go. Hear those motorcycles? Trouble is coming!”

  The girl and her parents were inside and the car peeling away fast as I sighed. Their reaction wasn’t a surprise. Maybe it was the Scorpions. Maybe my brothers had finally found me and Keys.

  I wasn’t able to move so I lay there, staring up at the sky.

  It was overcast. The sun wasn’t bright. Hidden behind multiple clouds, looked like a storm was rolling in. Didn’t make a lot of sense. The girl had been surrounded in sunlight. The beams were golden and super bright.

  Sighing, I clutched that silly brown stuffed bear to my chest and tried to breath through the pain that was slowly spreading throughout my entire body. Every cell felt damaged. Every single muscle strained to the point of agony. My chest rose and fell slowly as I breathed in and out and waited for the motorcycles to approach.

  There was a gun inside my cut. Somehow, it must have been overlooked. How it remained close after all that happened, I didn’t have a clue. Even after I was hit by that damn car. That was some supernatural shit right there.

  This was really turning out to be the worst couple of days of my entire life.

  Save one. But I wasn’t letting my father’s death creep in right now.

  Reaching for my weapon, I held it against my chest. I wasn’t going out like a little bitch on the side of the highway. If the Scorpions were back, I was taking a few of those motherfuckers with me on my way out.

  Memories of my interaction with Lucifer began to emerge and I couldn’t help my grin. I’d survived. Up to now, at least. He kept to his end of the bargain. I wasn’t dead.

  The thought of cashing in on my need for retribution made me smile. Acid was the first on my hit list. Razr was second. Those assholes were living on borrowed time.

  “You look like fuckin’ death,” a familiar voice bellowed as I looked up and grunted, looking directly into Exorcist’s amused expression. “Suppose we should take your ugly ass to a hospital or some shit.”

  “Fuck!”

  The curse came from Mammoth. His booming voice cried out with anger and pain.

  He found Keys.

  “Keys and Lockjaw,” I managed to reply as my body relaxed. I wasn’t in any danger. My brothers were here. I could let the control slip for a few minutes.

  “Yeah, I know, my brother. We’re gonna sort this shit out. Promise.”

  I wanted to nod but I wasn’t going to remain conscious much longer.

  “Where’s Papa?”

  He shook his head. “Accident. Colter is hurt.”

  Papa’s son? We were only a few years apart. Colter was a close friend.

  “Shit,” I cursed.

  “Not sure if he’s alright. Papa ain’t answering his phone at home and the hospital just gives me the run around when I call.”

  That wasn’t good.

  “Colter was with Murder’s daughter. I’m thinkin’ some bad shit went down before their accident.”

  I tried to sit up and nearly passed out. This was the worst time to be injured.

  “Easy. You’re gonna have to take it slow.” He shook his head. “Don’t want to lose another brother. It’s been fucked-up the last few days. Not gonna lie.”

  He had no idea. Wait until I landed my own bombshell in church.

  “Where did the fuckin’ bear come from? You got a guardian angel or some shit?”

  My chest ached when I sort of laughed and choked at the same time.

  “Don’t answer that. Rest. We’ve got you.”

  For the second time in twenty-four hours I drifted off and hoped I would stay alive long enough to fulfill every promise I made in the last few days.

  The Grim Reaper had been unleashed and I was out for blood.

  Present time ––

  “You finished yet?”

  I ignored Moby and kept cleaning the kitchen, wiping down the food stains and grime from the appliances and countertops. Even the damn cabinets looked like someone splattered them with food every single chance they got. It was disgusting but I wasn’t letting my dad live in squalor no matter how fucked-up our relationship had been in the past or continued to be. My father was a drunk and a swindler. A pathetic excuse for a man and I couldn’t blame my mother for leaving his ass over a decade ago. Some people were just beyond help. Not because they weren’t worthy of it but because they chose not to accept it.

  “I’m talking to you, Tricia.” My name was enunciated with spite.

  Moby wasn’t going to make me lose my temper. Not this time. I’d wasted far too much energy on his insults and abusive behavior in the past. It was better to pacify him and keep busy until the moment I could escape his presence.

  “I’m busy, Moby. Don’t you want a clean house?” The sweet tone of my voice was an act. Catching flies with honey and all that. If I wanted to leave without a confrontation, this was the only way.

  “Fuck the house. I came here for your sexy ass and a little alone time.” He ticked his head toward the back room and darkened hall. “Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll have you begging for my dick.”

  Eww. No way.

  First, he was my damn stepbrother. Two, he was a piece of shit low life with no desire to do anything with his life but drink up my father’s booze, buy and sell drugs, and play like he was someone important. He ran up debts and stole money. If he wasn’t out whoring around, he was trying to bother me for it. Disgusted, I couldn’t even acknowledge the fact that he’d once again offered sex.

  A new leather vest covered his body and I saw the patches on the front that read Prospect and Trigger. It was pretty obvious he gave himself the nickname or road name, whatever those bikers called themselves. It wasn’t the name that caused my ire but the association with a club that represented everything I hated about Tonopah. The Scorpions MC were a bunch of thieves and druggies with a reputation for partying too hard and causing trouble. There were rumors they took girls and passed them around, forcing sex and a debt to their club.

  “Hey,” Moby replied with a snarl, “I’m talkin’.”

  Yeah, yeah. Nothing he had to say was interesting.

  “And I said I’m cleaning. I’ve got to hurry up and get to the bar. My shift starts soon.”

  He gave me an exasperated look and stomped over to the fridge, opening it up and pulling out leftovers. “This shit is old. Make me somethin’ else.”

  I didn’t cook or clean for this fool. The trailer belonged to my father and he was the only reason I put up with Moby and his bullshit. If my sister wasn’t off and living her own life halfway across the U.S. map I wouldn’t be dealing with this shit on my own.

  “I
don’t have time, Moby. I’ve got work,” I reminded him, rinsing off the sponge in the sink.

  His attack was swift. I should have seen it coming. After all, his brutality began almost the day Gil hooked up with my stepmom. She didn’t stick around either. Gil Holloway was a cancer that ate away at everyone around him. I had the unfortunate luck to share his DNA.

  Moby shoved me into the sink as the broken edge of the countertop scraped my skin. He shoved my head down into the basin as he stuck his free hand between my legs from behind. I’d worn shorts today and his thick fingers tried to pry their way inside my intimate parts. I did the only thing I could. My leg lifted slightly and then I slammed the heel of my boot onto his foot. There was a crunching sound and he howled in pain, releasing me immediately.

  “Fuck!” he swore, hopping around and bumping into furniture, knocking over a couple of dining chairs that were mismatched but unlucky enough to remain inside instead of the trash where they belonged. Speaking of trash . . .

  “Don’t touch me,” I hissed, reaching into my back pocket, and pulling my knife free. “We aren’t doing a damn thing together. Not now. Not ever.”

  “You’re gonna regret that,” he warned.

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Before he could lunge for me again, I cautiously made my way toward the front door. He tracked my every movement with his cold, dark blue eyes but didn’t say a word. I knew what he was implying. There was no way I could come back here again alone. It wasn’t safe.

  This was probably a good thing. It wasn’t like my efforts were appreciated. My father never thanked me. He just expected that I would show up and cook meals, clean his place, and then go back to my shitty two-bedroom apartment that I could barely afford. I only made the rent and survived because Suraya was roommate, and we shared the cost.

  I didn’t stop moving until I was out of the trailer and then I ran for my truck, hopping into the old red Ford Ranger that I’d saved every penny to buy for over two years. Gravel spit out from behind my tires as I sped away, thankful to escape Moby and his unwanted attention. He’d always been an ass but his recent involvement with the Scorpions took his violence to a whole new level.

  The Blacktop parking lot was empty when I showed up over an hour early for my shift. I was closing tonight which sucked but usually provided a decent night of tips. I’d learned to tend bar years ago from Black-Eye Sue. She still came around from time to time, but the old broad was far beyond her prime. Didn’t matter to me. I loved her crazy and wild personality.

  She was the one who was working when I wandered in one afternoon nearly eight years prior. I was fresh out of high school and starting college. The bills were stacking up and my loans were already growing far too high. I needed a job and fast. She must have gone soft in her older years because she took me under her wing, showed me the basics, and became one of my closest friends. Last year she died of breast cancer. Hit me hard. I still couldn’t speak of her to most people. Only those here at the bar understood what her loss meant.

  Suraya was pulling down chairs and making sure the tables were clean as I entered. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail as she swished her ass to the beat of a rock song. A tight black tank top was stretched across her chest and molded to the curves of her breasts. I wore the same sleezy uniform top in a t-shirt style. The bar’s logo was plastered across our tits in white, drawing the eye exactly where the owner wanted. He was a shrewd businessman.

  “What’s up, sexy?” I asked, slapping her on the rump as I caught her off guard.

  “Jesus!” she shrieked with a laugh. “You’re scared me.”

  “Just keeping you on your toes!” I announced, slipping around her to stock the bar and make sure everything else was ready for our shift.

  We opened up a couple of minutes early out of boredom and welcomed in the regulars. News and sports played on the few big screen televisions anchored above in different placements. The largest one was above the bar and to the left. I turned down the volume and shook my head at Suraya as the news coverage spoke about more bloodshed in Tonopah and a few missing girls. It wasn’t something either of us wanted to hear while working.

  Suraya was from Palmdale, California. She left everything behind to start a new life on her own in Nevada. For a time, she wanted to be a showgirl. Didn’t work out and it wasn’t because she wasn’t pretty or thin enough. Girl looked like a runway model.

  I’d grown close to her over the last year. Sort of kindred spirits. Broken souls tended to latch onto one another. Both of us found love in the wrong places. We were attracted to bad boys. It was an ongoing joke between us.

  Suraya ticked her head toward the doorway. “I think your next mistake just walked in the door.”

  “Huh? What are you talking about, crazy?” I made a face at her and then glanced up.

  Six-foot-five-inches of handsome, dangerous, and bad boy walked in and headed toward an empty booth. He wasn’t alone but the other guy completely escaped my notice. Couldn’t describe him if my life depended on it because all my focus was on the dark beard, leather jacker, and hypnotizing eyes of the biker from my dreams.

  Literally, I dreamed about this guy since I was ten years old.

  Sounded stupid but it was the truth. I never forgot the wounded young man my parents hit with a car over a decade earlier. Something about him was different. It was obvious back then and still true now.

  He had a dark presence that lured me in, but it was the sexy smile and the way he carried himself that was the real turn on. Confidence oozed from his pores. He knew how to command a room and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if every woman in the vicinity wanted just one hour of all that testosterone pumping between their thighs.

  A man like that was one in a thousand if not more.

  “Trish?”

  I turned to Suraya, hating to tear my gaze away from Mr. Sex-on-a-stick. “Yeah?”

  “Honey, you stare any harder at that biker and you’re gonna spill something on yourself.”

  She was right. I already nearly overflowed the beer I was pouring.

  Handing over the drink, I barely noticed when the customer said thanks and winked in my direction.

  “He’s hot as fuck,” I whispered, sighing softly. “And nothing but trouble. I knew that as a ten-year-old girl and I’m sure it’s still true.”

  Her jaw dropped. “He’s the one? The biker you dream about?”

  I nodded. “Yep. Which is why I’m not gonna say a word.”

  “How do you know it’s the same guy?”

  “I never forgot him. It’s those eyes. They’re exactly the same.”

  She shook her head. “Well, shit. I think he’s worth a shot but personally I like the darker one with him. He’s better looking in that gruff sort of way. That beard looks like it could tickle between my thighs just right.”

  “You’re always thinking about sex,” I accused.

  She snorted. “Girl, I’m single and deprived. I need dick.”

  Both of us were laughing as I looked up and saw my dream biker staring in our direction. Fuck, I didn’t even know his name. Never found out. I even checked public records, but my guess was he never ended up in any hospital and the accident was never reported.

  Suraya bumped her hip lightly against mine. “He sees you now. Bet he comes up to the bar soon.”

  “Nope,” I disagreed.

  “Five minutes. If he doesn’t show, I’ll do all the dishes for a week at home.”

  “Done.”

  “If he does though, you have to agree to go out with him.”

  “Yeah, right. Are you trying to embarrass me or make me blush?”

  “Blushing is best when you’re having an orgasm.”

  Jesus. This girl. “I hate you,” I announced with a grimace.

  “Nope. You love me and if we were both bi, I’d fuck your brains out with a nine-inch black dildo and you’d love it.”

  Blink. Blink.

  Did she just say th
at?

  “Yep, I sure did say it. The look on your face is priceless.”

  “I need a new roommate,” I mumbled.

  “I’m irreplaceable, love. We both know it.”

  She was right. “I fucking love you, okay? You’re my ride or die bitch.”

  “Knew it.” She gave me a dazzling smile and turned to a customer as he approached. She batted her eyelashes at him, and he tossed down another twenty-dollar bill. Girl was a pro.

  Ignoring her antics, I dared to look back at the booth with the bikers. They were talking about something serious by their expressions. The other guy was shaking his head, but I couldn’t see his face because his back was in my direction. I couldn’t help but think my dream biker sat to face my way on purpose.

  He was a bit older and rougher around the edges than I remembered with a couple of age lines etched into his face – deep ones in the forehead and between the eyebrows that also hovered around his mouth – but just as handsome with those mesmerizing gray eyes that blended into a royal blue on the edges of his irises. I hadn’t seen eyes like that since the day I knelt at his side on the edge of Highway 95 eighteen years earlier. I probably never would again. He reminded me of a wolf seeking prey, his movements as precise as a hunter’s prowling grace. His grin quirked up the corners of his lips and a hint of something dark and dangerous lingered within as he joked with his friend.

  I was instantly attracted to the big biker who walked with a no bullshit swagger and instantly commanded the room when he entered. He was sexy as hell. A confident man with a penetrating gaze that whispered sin and seduction. There was an edge to his darkness, like the devil himself lingered inside.

  That darkness pulled me in like a magnet and I couldn’t resist.

  I was already hoping I’d lose that bet to Suraya, but I would never admit it.

  Swallowing hard, I glanced away as he stood, and I caught the determined look he shot in my direction as I inhaled a couple of deep breaths.

  Shit. What was I going to do now?

  The ride from Carson City had driven a need deep in my bones to stop and stretch my legs and grab a drink for my parched throat. I was as dry as the Great Basin and that shit wasn’t how I wanted to end my day. I’d taken this ride with Bodie Whitman, one of my Royal Bastards brothers. He insisted that I never rode alone and if I hadn’t relented Rael, Mammoth, and Hannibal would have followed anyway.