Irrevocable (The Exiled Eight MC Book 1)

by Addison Jane

  Meyah didn’t answer right away, her eyes moving to the side. “Rip, I just need to go.”

  I snatched her keys from her hand, and her gaze came back to me. “You think she’s in trouble?”

  She groaned in annoyance. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”

  Without a second thought, I strolled right past her, taking her keys with me as I stormed out the large roller door to where my bike was sitting proudly. The Brothers by Blood clubhouse was an old mechanic’s shop that, with the help of Drake, they had restored and pimped out to make it into a clubhouse. It was much like our clubhouse back home, very open—when we wanted it to be. Which was good now that I’d be spending a little more time down here, to have a little feel of home.

  “Rip! Wait,” she called after me as I threw my leg over my ride and started the engine, effectively drowning her out.

  Meyah realized at that stage that this wasn’t a negotiation and rushed up to my side. “She’s at Sullivan’s. The bar where we ate the other night. It’s a few blocks that way.” She pointed to the street which would lead me to the bar, and I nodded. “Can I have my keys?”

  I shook my head. “If something’s going on, ain’t no way in hell you’re going down there. I’ll bring her back in one piece.” I leaned over and pressed a kiss to her worried brow. I knew it would calm her at least a little. It always did.

  Things between us were tense at first, given her relationship with Shake—a member of a different club. But we’d faced the devil together, and no matter what, she was my blood. It just took me a little while to remember that. Since then, we’d grown really close. Closer than I think we would have ever been had we grown up together.

  Finally, she nodded and took a step back. I was quick to throw my ride in gear, leaving a thick line of rubber on the gray concrete as I took off out of the compound like a bat out of hell. My Harley rumbled beneath my thighs, its deep growl always reminding me of some kind of predator, like a lion or a jaguar roaring at night. Letting every other asshole out there know not to fuck with it.

  And when the club all road together, it was like my tribe—or maybe my pride—fighting side by side, standing fucking fearlessly.

  I pitied any motherfucker who tried to come for us.

  There’s no way in hell they would win.

  It took me less than three minutes to get to Sullivans, and when I couldn’t spot Dakota from the front, I pulled in and drove down the side of the building where the parking lot was out the back. She was leaning against the wall, her body slightly slumped, looking fucking defeated.

  Dakota never looked defeated.

  This was the girl who strolled into my personal bathroom like she owned the place, just because she wanted to take a piss, and then proceeded to taunt me about the size of my cock and not in a good way, even though she was staring directly at it, and it could have probably ripped her in half.

  Dakota was short, but she was fucking powerful. And I got off on seeing that little spark in her ignite which is why I was constantly trying to push her, to force her to bite back. It was like a fucking aphrodisiac.

  I parked right at the curb where she was standing and kicked the bike onto its stand before climbing off.

  She looked up as I took a step closer to her, her icy blue eyes piercing through me, leaving a sharp pain in my chest. “Where’s Meyah?” she demanded. “I didn’t call you, Rip. I didn’t need you to come riding in here like some fucking knight.”

  The hairs on my neck stood up. “What the hell happened?”

  She tried to take a step around me, but I grabbed her arm. Bad move. Her entire body jumped, and her instant reflex was to turn and strike out. Luckily, her reflexes were also slow and a little off kilter, so I managed to grab her hand before it could connect with my face.

  “I’ll ask again,” I growled deeply, backing her body up against the wall so no one could see us from the street or the bar and run over thinking I was hurting her. She glared back at me like an injured animal in a cage. “What the hell happened for you to need someone to come get you so urgently?”

  “You’re no—”

  “Stop it!” I hissed, pressing forward with my body. I lifted one hand, reaching for the hair that had fallen across her face. I didn’t miss the way she flinched at the movement, but I gritted my teeth and pressed my fingers through her hair anyway. Someone had hurt her. Her eyes were glassy, she was unsteady on her feet, and she didn’t want to be touched.

  “I don’t need you to rescue me,” she whispered, her voice still harsh, but her fight slowly fading as she leaned her head into my palm, the reaction of her body in complete contrast to her words. Her eyes drifted shut as she leaned further into me.

  “Well, too fucking bad,” I argued softly, as I continued to brush my fingers back.

  Her body suddenly leaped, her face scrunching up in pain as she pulled away from me. Before I could question her, a smear of red on my fingertips had my blood pressure shooting through the roof.

  She was bleeding.

  Her head was fucking bleeding.

  “Who did this, Dakota?” I demanded through gritted teeth, ready to tear this place to fucking shreds if I needed to. They can’t have gotten very far, it had only been about five minutes since Dakota called.

  A motorcycle roared in the distance, and I knew Meyah had asked someone to come after me—probably Shake.

  My entire body was tingling as I reached out trying to pull Dakota back to me, but she shook her head and held up her hands to try and force me back. “Leave it, Rip. I just want to go home,” she clipped, her bright eyes no longer full of daggers, but instead brimming with tears.

  Seeing her like that was hard. It was gut-wrenching. It made me feel protective and furious, and a whole fucking load of other emotions I honestly couldn’t even label. Probably because I’d never felt them before, not for anyone who wasn’t family.

  Part of me didn’t care if she cried and bawled and pleaded with me, I was going to demand to know who the fuck did this, so I could hunt him down and cut his dick off. The other part just wanted to bundle her in my arms and protect her from any bastard who tried to come for her, and then some. And I could say honestly—that was a new one for me.

  The Harley roared down the street, and as it got closer and louder, I could tell who it was. It was all in the way they drove, the way the bike was tuned. Once you got to know a man and his ride, you could pick up his sound easily at a lineup.

  Some slowed down early when they were stopping, others liked to change down quickly just before they had to stop. Some riders were good at keeping things smooth, others were constantly on and off the fucking throttle.

  When Shake pulled into the lot and parked beside me, I wasn’t surprised at all.

  I was surprised that he didn’t have my sister on the back, though.

  “Everything okay?” he asked after he turned his engine off. He didn’t bother to climb off, just narrowed his eyes on the both of us. “What happened?”

  “Noth—”

  “Her head is bleeding, and she’s jumpy,” I cut in, earning me some laser eyes from the little pixie.

  Shake’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

  “I just want to go home,” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “Can you two stop, and get me the hell out of here like I asked in the first place when I didn’t call either of you. I actually called my best friend. Not her brother or her boyfriend.”

  She was getting her sass back which, while I wanted to take her over my fucking knee, actually made me feel a little better.

  It didn’t take away the need to murder someone in warm blood.

  But better.

  “You’ll have to settle for the clubhouse,” Shake argued, raising his eyebrow as if daring Dakota to put up a fight about it. She had respect for him. Not just because he was the VP of the club, but because of the way he’d fought and battled to protect her friend. She trusted him.

  Maybe one day she’ll trust me too.


  Or maybe I should just step the fuck back from all of this.

  She stepped around me and made a beeline for Shake’s bike. Usually, brothers with women wouldn’t dare have another chick on their bike, but it wouldn’t be the first time Dakota has ridden with him and Meyah has ridden with me. Those are the lengths we have gone to in order to deny the fucking sparks that fly every time we’re in the same room. The bitch drove me up the fucking wall.

  And yet, the idea of someone else touching her—in any kind of way—drove me even more fucking crazy than her smart mouth.

  I looked down, just as Dakota climbed on with Shake, and he started his ride. Her blood was still smeared across my fingertips.

  Her blood.

  At least I knew one thing for sure.

  I was going to kill someone—eventually.

  DAKOTA

  “It’s just a little cut,” Ella reassured me as she cleaned away the blood. “It won’t need stitches.”

  I couldn’t speak, the amount of pain ringing through my head right now was insurmountable. It was like it had its own noise, but I couldn’t explain what it sounded like. It just filled your head, made you feel like it was three times the size and at the same time, someone has just blown up a balloon and was slowly letting the air out, with that disgusting high-pitched squeal.

  Oh, and then, a pack of thundering elephants are also running through.

  And to top it off, there was lots and lots of fog.

  How that all came from a little cut, or a little bump, I have no idea.

  Maybe it wasn’t just that. Maybe it was the fact that that asshole Caleb had caught me out and gotten the best of me. He knew who my brother was, and he’d pulled him into his world, getting my own flesh and blood on his side, against this group of people I cared about.

  And that was only the beginning.

  I knew it wasn’t done.

  I was suddenly wishing I’d shot his dick off while I had the chance. At least that would give me one up on him.

  “Head wounds always bleed a lot and look more dramatic, but it will heal in a week or two,” Ella continued as she slipped off her gloves and tossed them into the trash basket with the other things she’d used to clean me up.

  Ella was a friend who was training to be a nurse. Meyah and I had met her in an ethics class at college. She lived in Phoenix too and occasionally came over to patch up one of the boys when he hurts himself working, or just being a general idiot. The boys had all taken a shine to her, but one in particular being the club president—Shotgun.

  “How did you manage to do this again?” she asked with a frown as she packed her shit together.

  I looked to Meyah who shook her head once—a movement that most people would probably just take as her shifting, but it was sharp, and it told me to make something up before we dragged Ella into our problems too. “I was talking to Meyah on the phone, and I stepped back, not realizing there was a curb behind me. Stumbling back, I caught my head on the corner of the brick.”

  She cringed. “Yeah, I guess that’ll do it.”

  Meyah got up from the bed as Ella grabbed her bag of medical stuff. “You know, we’re gonna have to start paying you for coming out here. I swear you’re around just as much as Dakota is these days.”

  Ella giggled, the sound sweet and light and instantly told you what kind of girl she was. “I don’t mind. I’m getting way more practice at these things than the other students who are training. Not that I can declare that, but at least when it comes to the practical tests and things, I’ll be so damn prepared that I’ll fly through.” She turned and looked back at me and waved. “Let me know if things get worse, Dakota. I’ll come take another look at it.”

  I nodded and forced a wide smile. “Thanks, Ella, I’ll catch you later.”

  Before she could make it out the door, two large bodies crowded the space.

  “Ella,” Shotgun greeted with a gentle nod of his head. I saw the instant flush settle across Ella’s cheeks, and she seemed to sink into herself. Ella was a quiet, gentle soul, while Shotgun was a tall, tattooed, and mountainous looking guy who spoke in deep, gruff tones.

  She licked her lips and dipped her head. “Shotgun.” Then she turned to Ham. “Hamlet. I’ll see you girls later.”

  “I’ll walk you ou—”

  “We need you here,” Ham cut in, sending a dreadful feeling straight to the pit of my stomach.

  Ella just waved and slipped quickly out the door, obviously feeling the same serious tension that I was. “It’s fine, I know my way.” Then she disappeared in a flash, but I didn’t miss the way Shotgun’s eyes followed after her before returning to me.

  “She’s real pretty, huh?” I teased as he and Ham walked inside the room.

  He hit me with a dark glare but didn’t have a retort. Instead, he moved straight to business. “So, what happened?”

  I screwed up my nose. I knew I was never going to get away with keeping this from them, but thought I’d at least have a little bit of time to figure out how to tell them. “Caleb,” I replied, with a heavy sigh, going for simplicity.

  “You’re fucking joking,” Ham hissed. “How?”

  I wasn’t used to this. I’d barely even had time to process it all myself.

  This guy was conniving, he was sneaky, and from what I could tell, he was willing to go pretty fucking far in order to get what he wanted. And he wanted to punish me for standing up to him by hurting the people I cared about and coming after the club.

  My head began to pound, feeling like my brain was expanding and pressing against my skull. I groaned in pain and took a couple of steps back until I felt the bed at my knees.

  Meyah was quick to come to my side, her hand on my back, stroking up and down in such a motherly gesture. One that I really needed right in that moment.

  “Dakota…” Ham started, his tone a little softer now. “I need to know what’s going on so we can approach this in the right way. I ain’t gonna let this guy hurt you. You know you can trust me.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. “He showed up to dinner with my brother. I think that alone was a special kind of torture. Basically, he didn’t like that I saw through his little game at the bar that night and forced him to come clean.”

  I had no doubt that if it hadn’t been for him dropping his mask when I pulled my gun, I guarantee he would somehow have been working in secret to get himself into Empire or around the club.

  He hated that I’d blown his cover.

  And now that he didn’t need to hide, I was almost a little scared of what he would do.

  “He’s focused on me, but I think he has eyes for the club also,” I continued, my brow pulled together tightly as I tried to remember his words. “He said something about how what I’d done had pushed you to the top of his list.”

  Ham scrubbed through his hair with his fingers. It stuck up in a million different directions, and I could tell this was weighing on his shoulders. He felt responsible for letting Caleb inside Empire in the first place and not catching that something was out of place.

  He looked over at Shotgun, and I didn’t miss the slight shake of his head in response.

  There was something else going on, something they weren’t letting me in on. Something I wasn’t privy to.

  “I can’t figure out if this asshole is smart or really fucking stupid,” Shotgun noted, scratching his head.

  “He’s not stupid, but by the sounds of it, he gets easily riled and can’t keep his calm very well,” Ham snarled.

  Shotgun nodded. “Which is a bonus for us because it means sooner or later, he’s gonna screw something up, and there’s always some bigger asshole up the chain not willing to let an idiot like Caleb Corrigan make him look bad.”

  I heard what the club president was saying, and it made sense. If there was one thing these boys were good at, it was finding a weakness in others and then using it against them. Some might call it underhanded, I called it brilliance.

 
; Shotgun was exactly the type of guy you wanted on your team when it came to this shit too. He was calm, collected, and extremely intelligent. I couldn’t imagine anything in the world that would stray him from the brotherhood.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Meyah asked eagerly, her hands still moving up and down my spine. My body had sunk into hers seeking the affection, but also kind of wanting to just hide away.

  There was a flicker of a look between Ham and Shotgun that instantly made all that calm and peace Meyah had created around my body just melt the hell away.

  “Where’s Rip?” I demanded, hoping like hell he hadn’t gone back out and done something stupid.

  “He’s packing up his shit,” Shotgun answered, looking me directly in the eyes, which for a moment, made me feel a little naked.

  I pursed my lips together.

  Good, he’s leaving.

  About time.

  Wow! Because that was convincing.

  “He was ready to hunt down some asshole and murder him,” Shotgun explained, his eyes drifting to Ham for a moment before returning to me. “For now, we’d prefer it if you didn’t tell him that it was Caleb who did this because if he finds out, we’re gonna have a whole nother problem on our hands, and this time it’s going to include a dead police officer.”

  I shuddered.

  Hell no, did I fucking want that for him.

  Not because of me.

  I turned and looked at Meyah. She forced a supportive smile, but I could tell she was worried.

  “You guys will handle this?” I asked, my voice slightly raspy.

  “We’ll put someone on you for a few days while we dig a little deeper and see what we can find,” Ham explained. “Which will be a lot easier if we don’t have to worry about Ripley tearing the city apart to avenge your pain.”

  I cringed. “I don’t know what you…” My words fell off when I realized everyone else in the room was rolling their eyes and collectively sighing. I shut up after that. It still sounded fucking ridiculous to think that Ripley would possibly try and defend my honor when for the past year we’d simply just been at each other’s throats.