by C. Hallman
“Motherfucker!” he yells and crumbles to the ground.
When I see Ryan reaching for something again, I step further into the room, pointing my gun at him. He freezes, and I walk around the coffee table to where he is sitting. Reaching behind him with my gun pointed at his head, I pull out a Glock from his waistband and step back, stuffing the gun in my jacket.
“What do you want?” Ryan groans, blood soaking the complete front of his shirt now.
“I want my five grand,” I lie. I couldn’t care less about the money right now. “You don’t happen to have that kind of cash lying around here, do you?”
“I didn’t borrow it. Penny did.”
The moment the words leave his mouth, I’m on him. My fists fly, hitting him square in the jaw. His head snaps back so hard, I think I might have broken his neck.
“Don’t you say her fucking name! Actually, don’t say anything at all.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Thomas groans from the floor.
“You didn’t know your friend here was the one who took Penny from your house? Don’t worry, he won’t make it out of here alive… and neither will you.”
I didn’t come here planning to kill either of them, but it happened anyway. I killed them, and I’m not sorry about it one bit. I enjoyed it, relished in the way the life drained from their eyes, especially with Thomas. The moment he took his last breath, a weight lifted from me. I didn’t know how much I held onto that hate for him until then.
I text the clean-up crew on my way out. They’ll take care of this. Now I only need to explain this shit to Maddox. Problem is, I don’t know how to. How do I explain why I killed him without lying to my best friend?
Technically, Ryan was the one who owed the club money, but dead men can’t pay. I should have beat him up and told him to get our money instead of putting a bullet in his brain. And I really have no excuse for killing Thomas, other than I wanted to. Not that the club is concerned.
As if he can hear me thinking about him, my phone vibrates, and Maddox’s name flashes across the screen. I hit the green button.
“Yeah–”
“What the fuck is going on with you?” Maddox’s angry voice comes through the receiver.
“Look, those fuckers deserved it.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Maddox snaps.
“I know. I don’t have all the answers myself. Can you just trust me on this? I needed to kill them for my own sanity. It’s a long story, and I promise I’ll explain it all, but not tonight, okay?”
“You know I trust you, but you have been acting strange lately. Not like yourself.”
I don’t feel like myself either.
“It’s done now. Killing them is the end of it. Now we only have to figure out which one of our brothers is stealing from us, and everything can go back to normal.”
“If you say so…” The line goes dead, and I throw my phone back onto the passenger seat.
Fuck. This is getting out of hand.
I pull into my driveway a few minutes later. Killing the engine, I sit in my truck for a few minutes before getting out.
Quietly, I walk through the house and into the bedroom. Penny is still in bed, looking like she hasn’t moved at all.
As I take in her sleeping form, something feels different. I feel different. Less burdened, less angry toward her. Now that Thomas is dead, in a way that gave me closure. I blamed her for so long when, in reality, it was his fault. Now he paid for it. The debt is settled.
The only question is, where does that leave us? What’s going to happen between Penny and me? Can I go on letting her think she owes me, just to keep her here?
Stripping out of my clothes, I climb into the bed beside her. She stirs, and her eyes fly open, looking around, alarmed. She pushes herself off the bed, but then she sees me, and her panic retreats. Her head falls back onto the pillow.
I lie down, turning onto my side, so I can see her. Even in the dim light, I can make out the bruises covering her face, reminding me I did the right thing tonight.
“Tommy is dead,” I say before I can stop myself.
I hear her sharp intake of breath, and for a split second, I’m worried. Worried that she is going to mourn him, that she is going to cry for him, but when I study her face, there is nothing but relief.
She doesn’t ask how it happened. Maybe she doesn’t care, or maybe deep down, she knows the answer. Either way, she closes her eyes a few minutes later, her features turning peaceful, almost angelic. Her breathing evens out, letting me know she went back to sleep.
Even though I’m satisfied with the outcome tonight, I can’t seem to sleep. I stay up watching her for a long time, wondering what the fuck I am going to do with her. She doesn’t owe me, maybe she never really did, but I don’t think I can let her go regardless.
17
Penny
The next few days, Ryder leaves me alone, not asking anything of me while I’m recovering. The times he is at home, he barely says a word and hardly ever looks at me. I don’t know if it’s because he is mad or because he finds me so repulsive this way. Every time I look in the mirror, I assume it’s the latter. The swelling has mostly gone away now, but the purple and black bruises have now turned to an ugly yellow-brown color.
Then there is what Ryder told me that night in his bed. Tommy is dead. I didn’t need to ask him if it was true. I knew as soon as he told me it was. I felt it—an enormous weight lifted off my shoulders.
I want to ask him how it happened, but I’m too scared of the answer. I’m positive Ryder had something to do with it. He probably sent one of his guys to do it. I can’t bring myself to feel sorry for Tommy after everything he did to me. He deserved it.
Maybe that makes me a terrible person. Being glad that someone is dead seems like a horrible thing to do. I can’t help it though, instead of remorse, I only feel… free.
Even with Ryder acting weird like this, I’m more than thankful for him letting me stay here. After I left Tommy and went to the women’s shelter, I could never get a good night’s sleep and could never relax or feel safe. Even surrounded by other people, I was always scared of him finding and killing me. I’m not scared here, not with Ryder and Mojo in the house. Ryder might not be prince charming, but at least he won’t hurt me or let anyone else hurt me, and that’s more than I’m used to.
I take Advil during the day, but every night Ryder gives me one of those magic pills that makes everything go away and lets me sleep peacefully.
My ribs feel a lot better, too, letting me move around much more easily. So, I decide to get up and cook while Ryder is out for the day.
Just when I’m done frying the pork chops and baking the potatoes, the back door opens, and Ryder walks in. He looks at me, standing in the kitchen, while Mojo greets him at the door.
“Feeling better, I see,” he murmurs, taking a seat at the table. “You finally able to keep paying off your debt?”
I swallow hard before answering, “Yes…” A tiny bit of fear swirls around my stomach, but it’s quickly overwritten by excitement. I guess he does still want me.
Putting his food on a plate, I grab a beer from the fridge and bring him both. Setting it in front of him, I watch as he takes a sip of the beer before returning to the kitchen and preparing my plate.
When I sit down with my food in front of me, Ryder continues, “That’s good because I have a job for you. I need you to come to the club with me tonight.”
At his words, I suck in a sharp breath. The fork in my hand slips from my fingers and lands against the plate with a clang. “But-but you said…”
“Not to fuck someone else,” he clarifies. “I need that big brain of yours to do some quick math for me, and I need you to do it quietly, with no one else noticing. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” I answer confidently. That’s one thing I actually can do.
“You are going to sit in on a meeting. I want you to run all the numbers that are being said thro
ugh your head and make sure they add up. If they don’t, you gonna ask me for a drink.”
“Okay.” I don’t ask any more questions, mostly because I know he won’t answer anyway.
We finish dinner in silence, and when I get up to clean the dishes, Ryder stops me.
“We need to go now, and we’re taking the bike, so grab that helmet and let’s go,” he points toward a black helmet sitting on the entrance table next to the door. He wants me to ride on his bike with him?
Ten minutes later, I’m out the back, and I get my answer. Ryder swings his leg over the mean and dangerous-looking motorcycle. “Get on.”
I pull the helmet he made me get over my head and fasten the little buckle at my chin before I swing my leg over the bike. Unsteady on one leg, I have to hold on to his shoulders while I position myself behind him. Unsure what to do, I leave a few inches of space between us while sitting straight and trying to find something to hold on to that isn’t Ryder.
“Slide closer and wrap your arms around me unless you want to fall off,” he finally says, a hint of amusement lacing his voice.
I follow his orders, scooting my butt until my crotch is flush against Ryder’s backside. At first, I only sling my arms loosely around him, but once he starts the bike, making it rumble and vibrate loudly under me, I grip onto him like an iron shackle. I can’t hear him because the thing is so loud, but I can feel his stomach under my touch, and I know he is laughing at me.
I spend the rest of the ride in equal amounts of fear and excitement. I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before, and this is quite the experience. When we pull up to the same club Ryder took me from two weeks ago, all the excitement vanishes, and I’m left with deep-rooted fear.
“You remember what you are supposed to do?” Ryder asks when I slide off the bike behind him.
I pull off the helmet and answer, “Yes, run all the numbers in my head and make sure they’re correct. If they’re not, I’ll ask you if I can have a drink.”
“Good job. Let’s go,” Ryder says and starts getting off the bike.
Before thinking about it, I reach over and grab his arm, holding onto his bicep tightly as I can feel it flexing underneath my touch. His body stiffens at the way I hold on to him, but I need to know. I need to make sure he’ll protect me tonight.
“No one in there is going to hurt me, right? You’ll stay with me the whole time.” At my words, he relaxes, his body softening.
“Yes, no one is going to hurt you as long as you do what I say,” he assures me. We head toward the door, but right before we get to it, Ryder stops briefly. “One more thing. If anyone should ask you, act like I’m the one who did this to your face.”
“Why?” Why would he take responsibility for that?
“Just fucking do it.” He rolls his eyes at me.
As we enter, flashbacks of the first time I was brought to this place rush through my head. I was scared then, thinking I was going to die. I am still scared today, but not like I was before. Deep down, I know Ryder will protect me, he always has, even when I didn’t deserve it.
Even though a lot has changed since I was here last, the bar is just as I remembered. The smell is the same, the people are the same, hell, most of them are wearing the same clothes, it seems. All eyes are on me as I follow Ryder closely through the club like a lost puppy.
Every time we pass one of the few women here, they give me nasty looks and glare daggers at me. I’m not sure why, though. Is it because I’m here with Ryder or just because they know I don’t belong here? All the other girls here are dressed sexy and provocative, wearing high heel stilettos and dramatic makeup. In my leggings and pink long sleeve shirt, I couldn’t be any more out of place.
Even worse than the women’s death stares are the men’s eyes roaming my body like I’m some kind of sideshow. I feel like I’m on display, and maybe I am.
Ryder stops so suddenly that I run into him, my face smashing into his muscular back. My still bruised cheek throbs on impact, my hand instantly coming up to cradle the sore spot.
“Watch where you walk, bitch,” Ryder barks at me. The harshness and iciness of his voice has my spine stiffening in fear. He never talks to me like that. He never calls me names other than little owl. This is not the Ryder I know, and I don’t think I like this one… I don’t like him at all.
18
Ryder
I glance back at Penny, finding her staring at me like I just slapped her. I’ve done some messed up things to her, but I’ve never talked to her like this, and doing so now leaves a bitter taste on my tongue.
“Finally,” Huck calls and walks up to us, grabbing his crotch with his free hand while his other is holding a bottle of beer. “I thought you would never bring her back and share with us.”
“I’m not,” I tell him, holding out my hand to stop him from coming any closer. “She is still mine, and I like to fuck her without a raincoat on my dick. So, no one fucks her until I’m done. I don’t want to be catching any of your diseases.”
Huck throws back his head and laughs. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”
Oh, I fucking know.
“Fine, I’ll wait,” he says, licking his lips while seeking one last glance at her.
You’ll be waiting for nothing. I won’t let anyone touch her.
“Ryder,” Maddox calls and waves me over to his table where he and three more of our brothers are already sitting. Bradley, the youngest of my brothers, and also one of the smartest. He does all of our surveillance and tech stuff. Then there is Trick, our trusted mechanic, and Bear, our gray-haired brother, who looks more like a lumberjack than a biker.
Without looking back, I walk over to them and take a free chair. I know Penny is following me. Not just because I told her to, and I know she’ll listen. I can sense her presence, feel her warmth, smell her sweetness lingering in the air.
Penny sits down next to me, looking as nervous as ever, and she doesn’t even know the worst part yet. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe I should have warned her. Well, shit, it’s too late now.
“You brought your pet, I see,” Maddox says, looking Penny up and down. “What happened to her face?”
I shrug. “The pet didn’t listen, so I had to teach her a lesson. That’s how you train pets, right? Hit them with a rolled-up newspaper?”
“That must have been a heavy-ass newspaper.” Trick chuckles and the rest of the table erupts into laughter while I sit there, forcing a smile on my lips. I don’t want anyone to know how fucking pissed I am right now.
“You rub her nose in piss too?” Bradley jokes, and more laughter ripples through the crowd, only poking the bear. Me being the bear.
Maddox looks over to me, his eyebrow slightly raised. Fuck. He knows me too well. I have never been able to hide anything from him. Today, that fact annoys the fuck out of me. I glance over at Penny and see her shifting nervously. Then she stops, her body going still, remaining stoically in her chair.
I follow her gaze and unsurprisingly find Tucker walking toward our table. His eyes instantly zeroing in on the petite woman beside me. A sinister grin tucks on his lips, and for the first time, I actually hope Maddox is right, and Tucker is fucking us over. That’s the only way I could get away with destroying him.
“I didn’t know we could bring sex slaves to meetings now,” Tucker says, his attention remaining on Penny.
“Just run the damn numbers, so we can get drunk,” I growl, earning me another glare from Maddox.
“Fine.” Tucker slams a stack of papers on the table and retrieves a calculator from his cut’s inside pocket. “The run we made on Monday morning brought in 3400, the one that night 8300, take 80% out, divide by 14 brothers, put the rest back in the bank…” he rambles down the numbers for each day while punching them into the calculator and making check marks on the paper.
After he has gone through the entire week, he says, “total, $91, 250, 20% back in the bank leaves 73k even. Divided by 14 means each brother gets $
5,214.”
Tucker is still talking when I feel Penny’s soft fingers brush tentatively over my arm. Her touch, so soft it tickles, leaves goosebumps in her wake. I tilt my head toward her, letting her know I’m listening, but I don’t look over. My eyes remain on Tucker.
“May I get something to drink… please,” she says, barely loud enough for people to hear. Her words confirming what I was suspecting. Fucking Tucker, skimming off the top. Thinking he is so smart.
All I want to do is call him out, grab him by the throat, and use his face as a punching bag for the next twenty minutes, but I know I can’t. I need to play this smart, and I definitely need to talk to Maddox before doing anything.
“Bradley, get her a drink,” I order my brother, who looks at me like I’ve just asked him to solve an unsolvable riddle.
“I’m not a server, especially not for some bitch,” he snorts.
Barely holding on to my restraint, I grit out, “Get off your fucking ass and get her a drink before I stomp your teeth out.”
“Jesus, fuck, Ryder,” Bradley yells, but thank fuck, he gets up and walks toward the bar.
“Touchy, touchy.” Tucker grins.
Bradley returns a moment later, slamming a glass with some fruity looking liquid in front of Penny and a bottle in front of me. “I brought you a beer too. Maybe that will lighten up your fucking mood.”
Doubt it. But I still take the beer and down half of it. I really need to calm the fuck down before I do something really stupid. Something that I can’t take back.
Everyone at the table breaks out in conversation. Bradley talks about the chick he banged behind his gym yesterday, and Trick swears he fucked the same chick last week. Maddox talks to Tucker about upgrades he wants to do to his bike, and Bear chimes in about those upgrades only adding unwanted weight.
Maddox occasionally glances my way with a look that says, we’re going to talk about this later, and Penny is sitting next to me stiff as a board, nursing her half-empty drink.