“Oh, I didn’t tell you the craziest part. The account is for the MC he’s a part of.” I hold my glass up while she fills it almost to the brim.
“Shut up, like Sons of Anarchy? Ugh, I might need to pay him a visit.” My eyes widen. “What? I could tell him what a jackass he is and maybe find myself a hot, leather-wearing bad boy.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
She sits down and clinks her glass with mine, taking a big swig and winking at me. “Don’t pretend you weren’t as turned on by that show as I was.”
She wasn’t lying.
But the show was one thing. It wasn’t real life.
I spent the early part of my life thinking Ryder was someone I could run to. Now all I want to do is run away.
Chapter Five
2008
The First Rescue
I say good-bye to the boys and then turn around and head toward my school. Eighty-two days until summer and I don’t have to see these people for a couple of months. I don’t fit in here, or anywhere really. No one talks to me unless it’s time for the daily taunting.
Ryder has been living with us for a week now and even though he goes to my school, I hardly ever see him. We don’t have any classes together, and when we’re at home he spends all his time in his bedroom. On the rare occasion I see him, all he has is a crappy attitude. I had hoped I might get some help with the younger kids.
I was delusional.
I head to my locker so I can grab my books for the day. When I open it, a ton of Twinkies come falling out, almost covering my feet.
“Geez, Megaton. What’s that, your morning snack?”
I turn around and see the girls who have been determined to make my life a living hell for the past two and a half years. I have no idea why I became their target, but it makes me never want to come to school again.
“Why don’t you get down on all fours and eat them off the ground, little piggy?” Katie nudges Alison as they all erupt into laughter.
My lip quivers and I bite down on it, trying to calm myself, my eyes welling with tears that I beg not to fall as my fingers grip the cheap fabric of my thrift store skirt. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath.
My mind races with what I should do. Do I pick them all up? Even if I did, what the heck would I do with them? The click of heels makes my stomach drop.
“What’s wrong? You can’t be full,” Alison sneers in my ear, eliciting a cheer from her group.
“Get the fuck away from her.”
Oh God. Ground swallow me up.
Alison backs up, joining the other girls. “Aren’t you that new kid?”
He glares at her, not answering. His gaze swings to me, standing in the middle of them, my body frozen in embarrassment, fear, and confusion.
Alison smiles at him. “I heard you were in juvie. Why don’t you just—”
“Maybe you should walk the fuck away before I show you why I was in juvie.” Ryder’s hands fist at his sides and I can see his jaw working back and forth. His anger is so powerful I can almost feel it. It makes me wonder exactly why he would have been sent to juvie. Even though right now he is helping me, a part of me wonders if he could be dangerous.
Alison’s eyes grow wide. I don’t think anyone has ever challenged her like this before. A small crowd has gathered around us, everyone anxious to see how this plays out. Ryder takes a step toward her.
Would he actually hit her?
It seems she’s asked herself the same question because she retreats to the safety of her gang, flicking her hair over her shoulder and walking away, the other girls following behind her like geese.
I look over at Ryder. His eyes are focused on the snacks at my feet as he asks, “Why do you put up with that shit?”
I shrug. “I said something back once and it just got worse.”
It was freshman year when I stood up to them. I told the principal and they got detention for bullying me. I thought it would all stop. After all, I’d done the right thing.
Wrong.
The route home from school took me through a small park. It was largely neglected so the walkway was overgrown, the trees stretching over onto the path. With hindsight, I should have guessed it was the perfect spot to hide in. When I was walking home that day, they jumped me. With my back to the dirt, my bag emptied onto the ground around me, Alison’s foot on my chest, she told me to remember this day, and that if I ever ratted on them again, the beating would be ten times worse.
I took her advice and remembered. In fact, I remembered that day most nights as I fell asleep; a stark reminder to keep quiet.
I bend down, deciding to clean up the floor in front of my locker.
“Don’t you touch one of those things. I’ll make sure those bitches don’t bother you again. You work on growing a backbone and standing up for yourself.”
He bends down taking my hand and pulling me up so I’m standing beside him. His eyes focus on mine and for once he seems like more than the jerk who moved in upstairs.
He seems like a friend.
His mouth opens before it closes again. He must have second guessed whatever it was he was going to say. I start to turn away when he grabs my elbow.
“Never let anyone make you feel like you don’t matter. Once you do, it becomes the truth.” His hand tucks a stray hair behind my ear and my skin heats in a strange way under his touch.
Before I can say anything, he walks past me and disappears down the hallway.
I can’t move, completely overwhelmed by everything that just happened.
Ryder just stood up for me. He’s barely said a few words to me since he was sent to our house, but today he said everything I needed to hear.
Chapter Six
Megan
Most meetings take place at our offices. It makes sense, what with most of the information being kept on file there. But today, instead of going into the office, Mr. Duncan has instructed me to meet Ryder at the MC's clubhouse. Chrissy almost died when I told her where I was going. She has an unhealthy obsession with bikers and keeps hinting at me to find her one while simultaneously trying not to kill Ryder.
I told her I’d work on it.
That was a lie.
I don't know what bothers me more: how much his presence affects me, or the fact that I seem to barely have any effect on him.
Pulling into the parking lot of the clubhouse my skin heats with nerves, my stomach turns at the idea of seeing him again.
I try to give myself a pep talk while working on getting my breathing to even out. The last thing I want is for him to notice anything. I couldn’t live it down, mainly because I know Ryder wouldn’t let me.
Stepping out of the car, my heels crunch on the rough gravel as I go in search of Ryder. About halfway across the yard, I realize I have no idea where I’m going. I was told to meet him in the garage but that’s as specific as my instructions got, and it isn’t as if this place has signs posted. Walking up, I see a few guys hanging around and talking so I make my way over to them. Their eyes follow me the whole way and I momentarily regret wearing heels because everyone knows heels and gravel just do not mix.
“You the chick from the accounting place?”
My first reaction is to correct him but I hold my tongue. These don’t look like the kind of guys I really want to mouth off to and, really, in their world “chick” might be considered a compliment. I use my hand to shield my eyes from the sun because squinting is never a good look. “I’m looking for Ryder.”
The name doesn’t seem to register on any of their faces and for a minute I wonder if I have walked into the wrong place. That would be just my luck.
“Megan.” I hear his voice and it still sends chills through me. “In here.”
There’s a click and a side door opens. I walk toward it, feeling the eyes of the bikers on my back like daggers. When I get there, I peek inside. Its’s pretty basic, with only a desk with a computer and a few different piles of papers to fill the space. I step inside, smel
ling the faintest hint of mildew. It’s unpleasant, to say the least, and I scrunch up my nose.
“Why didn’t any of those guys know who you are?”
He doesn’t look at me. His gaze is on the papers in front of him as he sifts through them, putting some in one pile and others in another. “Because people don’t call me that here, and neither can you.”
“Really?” I laugh. “So what exactly am I supposed to call you?”
He sits down on the corner of the desk. “Tracker.”
I shake my head putting my purse down on the desk.
“Something wrong with my name?” His eyes narrow and my gut twists, reminding me of the nerves I felt in the car.
“Apart from the fact that you aren’t a bloodhound and it isn’t your name?” I cross my arms and jut out a hip. A lot has changed since high school. I’m no longer the pushover I was, and part of that is because of him, and though I might have been hesitant to stand up to the apes outside, the man in front of me is a whole different story.
“It is my name—at least, it’s my road name. It’s what everyone uses here.” He shakes his head and starts turning on the lights before moving to the computer. The screen springs to life, the display showing the same symbol that was on the back of his vest the other day.
“And if everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?” I arch an eyebrow at him. My body might be completely on edge being this close to him, and my mind might be freaking out thinking about all the memories of us, but my mouth has no problem poking the bear.
Ryder takes a few steps toward me, closing the distance between us until we are only a few inches apart. Having him this close makes my heart feel like a jackhammer. “Listen, as much as I like your smart mouth, you need to watch it around here. Respect is important, so while people are around you need to rein that shit in. When it’s just us, run that sexy mouth all you want.” He winks at me before walking past, his arm brushing mine and sending a heat through me.
“You can’t say shit like that to me, Ryder. We aren’t kids anymore. I’m here to do a job and that’s it.” I force my face to harden and wipe all emotion from it before turning toward him.
“Whatever you need to help you sleep at night, princess. Thing is, we might not be kids anymore, but I still know you better than you know yourself. I saw the way you looked at me the other day.” He steps close to me, his head bending down until his lips are close to my ear, the heat of his breath making my legs weak. “I know you feel this as much as I do. I just have to wait until it consumes you and you come begging.”
“Screw you.”
“All in good time.” He winks before walking out the door.
I let out a loud groan, annoyed at myself for even thinking it would be possible to relax around him.
Taking the only chair in the room, I take a few breaths and open up the file Mr. Duncan gave me. The MC has three legitimate businesses: a strip club called Ambrosia, a restaurant, and the garage. I look down at the paperwork Ryder—or should I say Tracker—was sorting through and found three individual piles.
At least he’s neat.
I start to comb through the first one, making spreadsheets and organizing the information, and as everything starts to slot into place, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. It’s the main reason I went into accounting; numbers make sense. Even when life is a mess and nothing else seems right, numbers can be slotted into patterns and boxes. There is no interpretation.
My cell rings and I look down to see that it's the office. “Hello?”
“Ms. Hendrix.” My heart dips a little at the sound of Mr. Duncan’s voice. “How is everything coming along?”
“It’s going well. I'm inputting all of the business information into the computer now. I’ve started to go over the club accounts, though, and a number of deposits aren't equaling the amount on the books. I'm about to double-check the receipts to see where the numbers are being miscalculated.”
“That’s why I’m calling. There is no ‘miscalculation.’ The club is paying us an extra fee to make sure of that, if you know what I mean. We need to make sure that everything matches up.” His voice is even-toned, like he didn't just ask me to alter documents and fudge numbers.
I don't know how to respond. My mind goes blank . . . well, except for a vivid recollection of the ethics class I took in college. I should say no. This isn't right. But I want to advance my career, and I get the feeling that if I don't do it, someone else will. “I’m sure there are a few receipts I missed somewhere,” I respond, feeling deflated and defeated.
“Be sure to find them.” The line clicks in my ear.
I scrub my face in frustration.
Can I really do this?
The door opens and Ryder walks in. “You need anything?”
I glance over at him. I need a lot, but I can't have any of it. I need to find a way to forget my past with him. I need to learn how to forget the feeling of having someone invade every inch of my soul. I need to remember how hard it was for me when he left, and force myself to stay away from him. I need to breathe, but right now it feels like everything is closing in on me.
In lieu of saying all that, I go with, “I'm fine.”
His studies me as he stands in front of the desk, his eyes sweeping over me in a way that I feel all over. I look away, trying to figure out how the hell I can accomplish what I'm supposed to. I'm still amazed that Mr. Duncan has asked me to do this, like it was no big deal, as if he didn't just instruct me to commit a crime.
“You want to grab a bite on your lunch?”
I look up at him. His hands are braced on the desk, his strong eyes focusing on me making me freeze in place. It amazes me how much different the man in front of me is from the boy I used to know.
“I brought something.” I continue to work on the computer silently, begging him to walk away.
I can feel him staring at me and it takes everything inside of me not to react. There is a moment or two of uncomfortable silence before I hear the heavy fall of his footstep and the slamming door echoes through the office. I pull out my phone and send a message to Chrissy.
Me: I don’t think I can do this. I can’t be here.
Chrissy: Bullshit. This is what you want, it’s a means to an end. Don’t let that asshole take this from you.
Me: You don’t understand. Being this close to him. It’s bringing everything back.
Chrissy: Good, make sure it brings back the memories of what he did to you, how you felt. He won last time, it’s your turn.
I know she’s right.
I can't let Ryder ruin this chance for me.
He can’t ruin everything . . . again.
Chapter Seven
Tracker
I walk out of the office completely pissed off at how cold she’s being. My skin feels like it’s on fire and all I want to do is go back in there and tell her to drop the shit. She’s the one who ended us, so for her to sit there and act like I’m the damn asshole is laughable. Megan is the only girl I have ever given a damn about.
But she showed me what a mistake that was.
I walk into the clubhouse, the scent of cheap perfume filling the air. The club girls are hanging out on one of the couches, flanked by a couple of brothers.
“Oh my God.”
A leggy blonde comes walking toward me, the shirt she’s wearing barely containing the tits that bounce with each step she takes. She smirks, and that’s when I realize who she is.
Alison.
High school Alison.
The bitch I basically threatened to dispose of when I caught her and her minions picking on Megan. What the hell is she doing here?
“Ryder?” Her eyes focus in on the patch I’m wearing. “Is that you?”
Great, she’s one of those.
Some of the club girls are just here for a good time, but most of them are patch chasers. They want to be an old lady and usually don’t care which brother makes them one.
“Long time no see.” Her tongue dar
ts out and she draws it slowly over her bottom lip.
I’m about to tell her to buzz off when I realize that this is the perfect opportunity for a little revenge. “Yeah, wanna catch up some?”
Her eyebrows rise as her smile widens. “Definitely.”
I pull her to my side, wrapping my arm around her tiny waist. “Let's go for a walk.”
She giggles and it’s like nails on a chalkboard.
I catch a glimpse of Megan through the windows of the office. She is chewing on the end of the pen in her hand. With her hair hanging loosely, framing her face, she reminds me of the girl she used to be. I clench my hands, remembering what it was like to run my fingers through the soft tendrils; remembering the way her eyes looked as she stared up at me, her hair spread out behind her.
“Where are we going?” Alison whispers in my ear.
“Don’t worry about it.” I walk into the office and Megan looks up. Her eyes widen when she sees the girl attached to my side, her eyes narrowing the minute realization sets in.
“Just wanted to let you know that I’ll be busy for an hour or more.” Alison’s hand plays with the hair at the back of my neck and I can feel the tension radiating off Megan.
“Do what you want.” Her voice is hard and tense.
“Oh, I will.” I turn toward the door, my hand trailing down and gripping Alison’s ass. She squeals and pushes her tits against me. If this wasn’t revenge, I’d be disgusted with myself.
My heart sinks as we walk out of the office. As good as it felt to see her jealous and affected by Alison, now I feel like shit. Megan hurt me, but that’s something I never wanted to do to her. Ever since I walked into the office and saw her standing there I haven’t felt like myself. The memories of what we used to be invade my mind constantly.
“So are you taking me to your room?” Alison whispers in my ear.
I shake her off. “Got shit to do.”
There is no way in hell I’d ever be with that bitch, even if Megan wasn’t back in my life. I can hear her shrieks but I keep walking. There’s no way I’d go anywhere near that foul mouth.
Sever (Deathstalkers MC Book 6) Page 3
