by V. Theia
How Rider kept his cool, it was anyone’s guess, but he did. Leading Rex, not to his office, but a larger side room with a table and desk.
“Take a seat. Whiskey, okay?”
Rex sighed when he let his bigger bulk lower into a leather chair. “Yeah. Ain’t you meant to be tying the knot today, boy? Your old lady can’t approve you bein’ gone on her big day. Me and my old lady are lookin’ forward to the party tonight.”
“Zara knows the club comes first.” Rider fed his uncle the line he’d understand. When he cut a gaze over his shoulder, it was to see a smirk. “Damn right. Bitches gotta learn their place early on, Rider, the only way is to teach ‘em. My old lady wouldn’t dare question any shit I do.”
Rider gave a grumble of fake agreement as he slid a tumbler of hard liquor across the table, poured himself one, and then took a seat opposite.
“The Raging Rebels.” He started.
Rex didn’t bother to hide his arrogance, draining the drink in one, Rider grabbed the bottle and poured him another.
“You let a club like that come to light; it gives others the idea you’re weak. Nobody woulda dared try that shit in my day.”
“What I can’t understand is why now. Why they’re resurrecting?”
“Don’t worry, boy. You got me advising you now. I won’t steer you wrong. We’ll teach the fuckers this is our territory. For as long as I can remember, the Souls owned Colorado, ain’t no two-bit wannabes coming in.”
At least Rex had that right. Only, he was included in it too.
He just didn’t know it yet.
And nothing here was his. Not now or ever.
Rider was adept at waiting out an enemy. Waiting for the perfect time to cut them down to size. He’d waited more than a year for this showdown. So while his uncle prattled on about how great his reign was, Rider listened and poured him more whiskey.
The idiot should know by now never to accept a drink from an enemy.
“First thing you gotta do is…”
Rider tuned him out because he was watching Rex’s every reaction. When Rex’s speech became slurred, he smiled, rimming his untouched glass of whiskey.
Sweat dotted Rex’s forehead, and he swiped it away with his forearm.
“And if they give you any trouble, you mention my name.”
“Why is that?” Rider asked, tone even and hard. “Is it because you’re the one who sponsored the Rebels coming back to life? You and your best friend, the mayor, fronting up the money.”
Rex’s shrewd eyes snapped up, and the truth was right there before he closed it down.
“Whatcha talkin’ about, boy?”
“I have it from the horse’s mouth how you were the one to reform the band again. Only it was with a purpose, wasn’t it, uncle? To fuck with my club. And more personally, to fuck with me and mine. Cause as much damage was their objective. Bring coke through my territory, make it so my attention was divided. Isn’t that right?”
Rising from his seat, Rider’s stride was slow as he picked up his glass between his thumb and forefinger, he placed it on the counter and turned back to his uncle.
“Have you ever seen a movie where the bad guy takes the time to boast about his big fuckin’ evil plan? And the audience knows it’s giving the good guy too much time to get out of his quandary?” Rider asked easily. Resting his ass on the unit behind him, he looked relaxed to the untrained eye.
This was the final act.
The fanfare and curtain call.
The place he’d worked toward for months now.
No one could accuse a Marinos of being fair when he’d been crossed.
He was as fucking cutthroat as the man in front of him.
The difference being, Rider put in the work. He wasn’t a lazy fucker cutting corners. When he went all out to destroy a man, he did it systemically without missing a step.
“You got this all backward.” Rex slurred, sweating liberally.
Rider bet he was feeling like shit right now like he could vomit up his lungs. The poison in his drink was lethal; it didn’t go easy on the body; it ate through the organs like a full-scale buffet.
Rex groaned and rubbed his belly, breathing like he’d been running from wild dogs, wiping oozing sweat from his ruddy face.
“I’m that guy, uncle. The one who explains how I fucked you over. For months, I’ve been fuckin’ you, and you had no idea. How’s it feel? I’m feeling pretty chipper.” He smirked darkly, veins on fire. He could have killed this man in many ways. A bullet to the forehead, a car bomb, a knife in the gut, leaving him bleeding out. Between Lawless and Hawk, they could have given him lengthy ideas for a painful death. Cutting him up into tiny pieces, slicing him from throat to dick until his intestines poured out onto the floor.
But Rider didn’t work that way.
“Rider… what?”
It was when Rex slumped forward that Rider moved forward.
Not to help the man.
Realization became clear for Rex, and panic stole over his face.
“What did you do?”
NINETEEN
“I guess I’m off his Christmas card list now.” - Rider
Sweating profusely.
Every drop of blood drained out of Rex’s complexion. Babbling incoherently, he attempted to lift himself but crumbled like rotten meat.
“I’ll relish the last few breaths you have left. It won’t be long now. How’s it feel to die with nothing, uncle? To know I bested you even when you tried so fuckin’ hard. You know, I might have gone easy on you, laughed off your attempts to get the club back, to outfox my business ventures. Nice try, by the way. A bit amateurish, if you don’t mind me saying so. But saying all that, I might have gone easy on you. My Zara’s doing; she’s been a good influence. But bringing the Rebels back, that was the nail in your coffin, uncle. As they say in chess, wrong fuckin’ move. Anything that hurts my old lady is unforgivable in my eyes.”
“Ajax… Ajax won’t. H-help me, boy… we… I’m your family.” stuttered the dying man, clawing at his own throat for breath.
“Mad-dog couldn’t give less of a fuck about you, you piece of shit, and neither do I. He’s been helping me all along.”
The man was dying, but it was finding out his only brother was against him that put hurt on his face. Fucking shame about that.
One minute.
And then two.
Rex was incapable of speaking.
Rider didn’t look away.
He waited until the end.
Death wasn’t pleasant. It wasn’t a joy to watch.
But he watched anyway.
Until Rex’s breaths stopped, and he slumped back, his neck lolling, eyes open.
Inhaling slowly, Rider felt nothing other than a sense of completion.
Another enemy bested.
Killing Rex was anticlimactic.
Not that Rider was looking to get his rocks off over it. But he expected to feel something. He wasn’t a monster; he did what needed to be done.
But when it came, when his uncle was dead in the chair, he felt nothing other than knowing it was over.
He’d toyed with him for more than a year, so maybe he had a little monster in him.
Hawk didn’t bother knocking after Rider texted him. Coming through the door, he closed it quietly, eyeballing the corpse spilled over in the chair. He walked with slow steps. “How the fuck do we get him into the truck? We don’t have time for me to cut him up.”
He said it like the pair were talking about a Thanksgiving turkey.
Rider chuckled, knowing how literal Hawk was being.
“Not sure going back to my wedding covered in body part juices would be a good look.”
Hawk grunted.
The compound grounds were deserted. They didn’t attempt to carry Rex to the SUV. Instead, the roller chair he was slumped in came in handy. They wheeled him out, Hawk holding his legs up from the floor. If they weren’t time-sensitive, Rider might have laughed for the sight the
y made. Once outside, it took all their strength and maneuvering to toss the body into the back of the truck. He landed with a heavy thud of a man who no longer had control of his limbs, then covered him up in a tarp.
It was a chilly February day, but both men were sweating. Rider swiped at his forehead, locked the club up again, and climbed into the driver’s seat. Hawk followed suit. “You should get back to the reception before you’re missed.”
“No one will expect to see Zara and me yet.”
Not while Zara was holed up in a hotel suite, he’d booked weeks ago. They’d made a show of going off for an hour to be alone. As expected of a dirty biker. But he didn’t want to leave her alone for long, so he had to get this last thing seen to.
“I can do the dump.”
“Seeing it through, brother.” Rider answered.
He drove the speed limit. The last thing he needed was to get pulled over for a ticket and have his alibi smashed to pieces.
How could he have killed Rex when he was at his wedding? He was nowhere near the guy. And when they started looking for him, they’d see he had a mistress out in Vegas, and he’d also emptied his bank accounts. Who was to say he hadn’t run off with her for a new life?
Rider had killed tonight, but he wasn’t evil. There was conscience in him, so he’d make sure his aunt was taken care of. He doubted her sons would do a fucking thing for their mother.
“You feel anything?” Hawk asked from the other side of the cab. They’d been driving twenty minutes up the mountain to one of their safe houses.
Rider cut a gaze sideways, “nothing.”
“Good.” Smirked the demon at his side. And then he sobered, his face darkening. “Wish I could have done the same for the bitch.”
His mother.
“Family means nothing when they’re a piece of shit.” Hawk gruffed. Saying more at once than he usually did. It meant he was agitated and probably needed the calm of his old lady. Gia always grounded him.
“The right kind of family gets shit done, no matter who wields the guillotine, brother.” Rider replied, taking the long driveway to Rex’s last resting place.
Anyone of his club brothers would have done Rex.
Lawless, before he went to prison, was jonesing to be tagged in.
Even Hawk offered more than once.
This had to be Rider, if only because he had to face Mad-dog. His father knew this shit was happening. He’d endorsed it. But he must have some feelings about knowing his son killed his only brother.
He didn’t feel guilty. Rex had it coming.
Rider had given Rex’s wife and sons the freedom to live a life from out of his tyranny.
Stripping everything off the body, Hawk burned the clothes in an oil can. Rider didn’t stick around to watch as the feral pigs started in on their meal. Keeping them hungry for a few days was the key to making them dispose of a body. It wasn’t pretty, and because he had to eat wedding cake later, he turned from the sight and tried not to listen as they went to town. When he came back tomorrow, there wouldn’t even be a bone left to identify.
“Let’s go.” He told his VP.
“End of an era,” Hawk remarked, using wipes in the truck to wash off his hands of soot and grime. They both changed their footwear back to that of their wedding attire. Rider tossed his black leather jacket in the back and slipped into his suit jacket. He probably smelled like death, but there wasn’t time for a shower, not until he was back at the hotel.
“Until the next one.” Hawk tacked on with a sinister chuckle.
Rider grinned. That’s how it felt too. Out with the old, in with the new. There was always a new supervillain to go up against the Souls.
Leaving the truck at the club, the prospects knew to scrub it inside and out until it shined like brand new. They would have already taken Rex’s truck over to the junkyard to have it crushed. They hopped into Lawless’ ride they’d borrowed. The enforcer would have a shit fit if he knew.
Making good time, Rider parked around the back of the hotel grounds. He and Hawk split up. Hawk went in the front to meet up with Gia. Rider took the back way through the kitchen and sneaked up to the room via the stairs.
Back to Zara.
Her pale eyes widened when she saw him.
The next thing, she flew across the room and flung herself into his arms.
Peace poured down over Rider.
She was it for him.
Not only did she know what he’d been doing, she still greeted him like she thought he was the greatest man alive. So fucking lucky.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, baby. Sorry, I took longer than I intended to be gone.”
“That doesn’t matter; you’re here now.” She pulled back to look at him, worry etched on her face. But not only that. What was on her lovely face was lust. He didn’t have time to question it. Not when her lips came up and crushed a kiss out of him. Nor when she moaned and grabbed his hair out of the leather tie. “Rider.” She whimpered.
His girl didn’t get off on murder, but she was hyped on adrenaline and needed an outlet for it.
His alibi had been him fucking his wife.
Now he was about to make it the truth.
“I wanna move inside you,” he told her, running a hand down the back of her dress, popping up a button as he descended to her ass. When it was gaping open, he helped her step out of it.
She was utterly gorgeous in the thin strappy white dress fitted to her slim body with numerous lacy skirts flared around her feet, but she was a fucking vision out of it. Standing before him in white underwear and stockings, Rider wanted her. Badly.
It became a frantic moving of clothes, sliding her panties down her legs, freeing his length, hot frenzied kisses shared.
Wet, messy mouths strained toward the other.
He tasted her adrenaline, her relief. And love.
“Rider, please.”
“I got what you need, Icy-baby. Got it right here.” It had to be fast when he put her up against a wall, lifting her smaller body until she clung around him. And then Rider pushed inside her, working back and forth until he could bottom out.
He felt her moan powering through his cock. And when she sucked in back-to-back breaths, he sensed how close she was from a few thrusts.
“Need it?” He asked into her mouth when she grabbed him around the neck, bringing his head down for a kiss.
“Always. I always need you, Rider.”
He knew she didn’t mean only sex.
As much as she was in this life of theirs now, and he kept nothing from her, she was still his sweet, innocent girl. And she’d been worried for him.
With his body, he showed Zara she would always have him.
He’d never leave her.
The devil couldn’t keep Rider from his Zara, that was a fact.
A growl built in Rider’s chest, a bead of sweat rolling down his back. “Look how I’m dirtying my wife.” He groaned, railing her in a way a husband shouldn’t be with his wife on their wedding day. There would be time later for sweet and for him to make love to her slower than an animal in stud, like he felt at present. Right now, they needed it hard and fast.
Zara puffed a laugh, squeezing him inside and out. It wasn’t going to take long for either of them. “Dirty men fuck dirtily,” she dared tell him with a smile on her beautiful face.
It was the beginning of the end because he increased the thrusts' speed, burying himself down to the bottom of her sex.
When Zara cried into his mouth, he followed her seconds later with a ragged roar.
She didn’t let go of him, even when the pleasure left their bodies.
She clung tight, and he knew why. “I’ll always come back to you, Icy-baby. Never doubt it. You and me are always.” He told her, stroking a hand down her hair.
Zara was his life. He didn’t say it as a throwaway sentiment. She was his whole fucking world.
“Always,” she repeated.
He was the dirty man she l
oved in the same obsessive way. Rider kissed the tip of her nose, setting her unsteadily back on her feet, knowing he’d have to put her back in the wedding gown and return to their reception when all he wanted to do was go through rounds two and three. Another kiss.
“Will that hold you until I can get you all to myself?”
Her laugh meant she was steady again. He’d taken the fear from her, replacing it with everything he had in him.
Her arms looped around his neck, and Zara tugged on the ends of his loose hair.
“Look how cocky you get when I marry you. I’ve created a monster.”
He was many things to many people, but he’d always be Zara’s man first.
She was his Priority.
His Queen.
Love of his fucking dirty life.
TWENTY
“No Disney princess had a happily ever after like she did.” - Zara
“Was this your hardest mission yet as a biker?” Zara asked, trying but failing to hold her grin at bay.
Rider’s dark eyebrows pinged up, confused as he too flashed a half-grin. “What’s that?”
“Getting me down the aisle.”
He threw his head back and burst out a deep-timbered, all sexy laugh.
“Icy-baby, you were a worthy opponent, but I knew your soft spots to get you to give in, didn’t I?” He was so smug.
So freaking gorgeous.
And so hers.
He’d been her man for a long time, but saying those vows in front of their closest people cemented how they felt for one another. She was still on cloud nine.
There was time to talk about earlier. But not today.
Right now was for concentrating on how they felt in this second.
And that was incredibly happy.
Desire lanced through her, listening to his tapering chuckle. It wasn’t hard grabbed desire like it was earlier, when all she needed was to get him inside her. This desire bloomed lovingly throughout her body, warming her from the inside until she knew her cheeks were rosy pink.
She cuddled closer in his arms. Their gentle swaying to the music was magical as it was fun. Getting Rider to dance was a feat unto itself. Not that he didn’t dance with her, he did, but he always, always bitched about it. Less so if she could get him drunk first. “Anyone would think you hated holding me close.” She’d tell him, only to see him smirk, knowing he was going to reply, “it’s the only best part about dancing,”
