“You betcha.” Terri pumped her fist. She was done with the tears and the moping about a guy who rang all her bells. She’d chalk it up to the school of hard knocks. Her body was still on overdrive with the aftershocks from the hard knocks Ryker had pumped into her. Too bad. He could have been a keeper.
Part of Terri wanted to curl up in bed and sulk, but as her father had always said, it was better to get right back on the bike after a spill.
Poor Dad, Terri thought as she pulled on a pair of yoga pants. Not only was he stuck with Mom, he could never get back on a bike again.
Chapter Fourteen
Ryker unlatched his ankle holster so he could whip out his handgun with minimum interference. Just in case. Club Rachelle was a no-fight-zone mainly because Axe had the muscle and connections to enforce his rules. He’d always been the guy behind the scenes, the bartender who collected information along with his tips. He stored that information in safe places with enough smoking guns to put away half the county should anything ever happen to him.
A row of Harleys lined the area directly in front of the entrance, with another row across the street. Each motorcycle club had their unofficial parking area, and woe to any newb who decided to insert his bike where it didn’t belong.
Ryker quickly zeroed in on a couple of probes or prospects hanging around watching the bikes. A chill raised the hairs on the back of his neck when he spotted the Metal Wolves insignia on several of the bikes.
Fortunately, he saw no signs of the Storm Demons, or what was left of them. He parked his Harley around the corner between two cars and walked slowly past the probes. He wasn’t wearing any patches or colors, just a plain leather jacket, but he could feel their eyes glued to his back as he opened the door and entered the bar.
Pockets of people sat along the curved chrome bar on black leather barstools backed by sissy bars or at the booths along the back wall. A large metallic sculpture of a Harley hung suspended above the bar, and portraits of female tattooed backs decorated the walls above the booths.
His brothers had taken a corner booth where they had a clear view of everyone coming and going. They spotted him at the exact same time as their faces darkened with scowls and their brows drew over their hooded eyes.
Ryker headed over at a fierce pace, pushing aside a group of biker chicks who tried to chat him up. He’d been shirking a confrontation, but now that he knew who was at stake, he had to end it here, now.
“So, the whelp has finally come home,” his second eldest brother, Drake, announced to the guffaws of his next two elder brothers, Thorn, and Maddox. “When are you going to man up and take out your own trash?”
“I’m not doing it. Period.” Ryker placed his hands on the table and leaned over them. “When are you guys going to man up and stand on your own?”
“You need us. We’re family, but you turned your back on us.” Drake rose to his full height.
“I turned my back on murder.”
“Vengeance is not murder,” Drake growled, leaning into his face. “You want back into the family, you gotta prove yourself all over again. No free ride.”
“I’m not here to get my patch back or ride with you. I’m telling you to stop the feud. Stop letting Pops ride you guys. He’s the one with the grudge.”
“You forgot about Earl so soon?” Drake tightened his voice into a low rasp.
Earl was their oldest brother, with a cruel streak as deep and mean as their father’s. Ryker well remembered the beatings he’d gotten from Earl, as well as the trickle down beatings where Earl would punch Drake who would take it out on Thorn, who’d kick Maddox, who’d wail on Ryker.
Being the youngest in his family sucked.
“I haven’t forgotten Earl, but he helped Pops light up that barn. Most of the Storm Demons died that night.”
“Except for Terkel himself. He ambushed us, shot Earl, and got away scot-free.”
“So, he’s out of the life. Good for him.”
Drake pushed Ryker. “He needs to be brought to justice. He needs to watch his own flesh and blood die. That girl you were kissing? That’s his only child. She must be around thirty by now. That’s seventeen years he’s had his daughter and seventeen years we don’t have Earl. I say it’s high time we take her out.”
“No. She’s innocent. The war stops with me.” Ryker stood his ground. “It’s my duty to take out Terkel and his family, but I absolve them. I won’t do it.”
The brothers stared long and hard at Ryker.
Usually, he would back down, being the runt of the family, but the stakes were too high, and running away hadn’t solved a thing. The desire for vengeance had festered and eaten at all the Slades like a colony of subterranean termites.
“You’ve gone liberal,” Drake growled deep in his throat. “Like Mom said, if you won’t do the job, we will. And we will go right through you for the kill.”
So much for brotherhood and not hurting one of their own.
“The Storm Demons aren’t sitting ducks,” Ryker reminded them. “They’ve got money and resources. They’ll retaliate. Full fledged war.”
“Good. I can’t wait.” Maddox cracked his knuckles. “Especially with Pops getting out of jail this Friday.”
“Wait.” Ryker’s heart jolted into a panicked gallop. “I thought he was a lifer. Why would they let him out? I’m sure it isn’t for good behavior.”
“It’s not, but he’s old, and the prisons are overcrowded.” Thorn crossed his arms and smirked. “So, you see, little bro, either you get this out of the way, kill them with a quick shot in the head, or Dad goes after them. He’s made a few buddies in San Quentin who’d like nothing better than to toy with them before finishing them off, especially the daughter. She was killer pretty back then, and I bet she’s even hotter now.”
Rage boiled at the thought of anyone hurting Terri. His hackles rose, and he wanted to strike the grin off his brother’s face.
“They’re going to have to go through me.” Ryker clenched his fists. “I sure as hell am not going to let any of you so much as touch a hair on her head.”
“Really?” Drake lifted one of his bushy eyebrows. “You speak as if you know her.”
“No, I don’t,” Ryker said. “But as a Marine, I took an oath to protect the innocent, and Terror’s daughter didn’t do the shooting.”
“Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth,” Maddox said. “Terror started it when he torched our garage.”
There was no use arguing with his brothers. They were still stuck in the way of the Hatfields and McCoys—the ancient way of blood feuds. It mattered little to them that Terri was an innocent bystander. She was a way to hurt her parents, and therefore she had to be taken out.
“No one touches the daughter.” Ryker growled through gritted teeth. “Take Terkel down. I don’t care, or even better, get his old lady.”
In what crazy universe could it be that the woman he’d just had the best sex in his life with was the daughter of his worst enemies? He’d been as shocked as shit when he’d recognized Terror’s old lady at Terri’s apartment. Fortunately, she hadn’t shown any signs of remembering him—it helped that he was a skinny runt back then.
“We thought Ryker would want the privilege,” Drake drawled, looking around at Thorn and Maddox. “But the whelp’s gone soft—gone to the Marines. He’s forgotten what it was like to get beaten up by Terror’s old lady.”
“You knew about that?” Ryker’s throat dried and his stomach sickened. That had been the single most embarrassing thing in his entire life. “How long have you known?”
“Mom heard her bragging about it with the other old ladies,” Maddox explained. “That’s why it’s your duty, not just to avenge Earl, but to give the bitch what she had coming to her.”
This time, Ryker’s stomach curdled and anger roiled in his chest. The cold-hearted bitch might have deserved punishment, but not her daughter.
Terri was innocent, kind-hearted, luscious, and white hot.
Terri
was his.
“Fine, we run with getting Terkel and his old lady, but no one hurts the daughter.”
“Why’s she so special?” Thorn turned narrowed eyes at Ryker. “I say you know who she is, and you have the hots for her. Spit it out. Who is she and where is she hiding?”
Icy chills grabbed the roots of Ryker’s hair even as cold sweat wet his back. Shit. He hadn’t meant to give anything away.
“I have no clue who or where she is,” Ryker said.
“You’re lying,” Drake pronounced. “You’ve found her and you want to protect her.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ryker forced the words to sound casual. “She’s just some girl I would have forgotten all about if it hadn’t been for the war it sparked.”
“I highly doubt you’d forget that one.” Maddox tried to suppress a chuckle. “You’re not the only one who’s tasted her goods. You’re just the stupid one to get caught.”
Not the only one? Had Terri kissed his brothers, too? Had she done more with them? Even more worrying, would they recognize her all these years later?
He walked away, but hadn’t made it to the exit when he stopped suddenly. Terri and her group of friends were sitting at the far corner of the bar.
Ryker couldn’t stop staring, even though he was endangering her. Terri shone like a bright beacon, her blond hair highlighting her as she laughed and knocked back a shot glass.
A strong hand clamped his shoulder, and he was aware of his brothers encircling him.
“Interesting,” Drake said, shaking him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or is one of those women Teresa Terkel?”
“I bet it’s the blonde,” Thorn said, crowding him to get a better look.
“They’re tourists, can’t you tell?” Ryker unhitched his brother’s hand from his shoulder. “Coming here to slum around with knuckleheads like you and then go back to their country clubs and brag about it.”
“What are we waiting for?” Drake blew in his hands and rubbed them. “Time to initiate a few sweet butts.”
Ryker had no choice but to follow his brothers as they swaggered toward Terri and her friends. If he refused to go, they’d be suspicious, and the only way to keep Terri safe was to keep an eye on her.
He just needed Terri to pretend she didn’t know him, either.
Chapter Fifteen
“So, which one is Warren?” Terri tapped Jolie as her eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the bar. They had found a booth tucked near the restrooms on the side away from the bar counter.
It hadn’t been easy walking the gauntlet of biker guys, but the way they’d stared at her and her friends, making appreciative and slightly crude sounds, had stroked what was left of her ego.
Let Ryker toss away the closeness they’d felt, all because she had called him a liar for saying she was beautiful. Yes, of course, she’d wracked her brain to pinpoint the exact minute his demeanor had changed.
“He’s hanging outside having a smoke,” Jolie answered about Warren. “He’s not accepted into the club so he has to watch their bikes.”
“How’s he going to catch anyone dealing drugs if he’s outside?” Sherelle tossed back her drink. “You sure this isn’t an excuse to hang around with those biker chicks?”
“You’re always so suspicious,” Jolie said. “If he so much as touches one of those chicks, the patch holders, or full-fledged club members, will kick his ass, and he might just live if he’s lucky.”
“I don’t see the allure of being in a club. Sounds like a rough type of frat,” Sherelle said. “Conformity to the rules, pack behavior, peer pressure.”
“Yes, but you also have a sense of belonging to a clan,” Terri pointed out, remembering back when her parents used to ride. “If you’re in the club, everyone has your back, and you’re never alone. If you need something, there’s always someone to help.”
“Isn’t that what family’s for?” Sherelle shrugged, still looking unconvinced. “What I see are a bunch of insecure males who probably have tiny dicks who act like badasses but have no mind of their own. I mean, look at them. They’re all dressed alike, they all have ink, all wearing essentially the same things. Don’t even get me started on the vests. They have patches like we did in Girl Scouts.”
“Shhh …” Terri made a downward motion with her hand. “You don’t know how big a deal it is for patch holders to defend their honor.”
“All I know is there are bigger things in this world than who snubbed who, or who insulted who. World hunger, war, famine, disease.”
“I don’t know about you,” Leanna cut in. “But those dudes look plenty big to me, and I’m betting there’s no tiny dick anywhere in this bar. I mean, look at the size of those bikes.”
“Bigger bikes, smaller dicks,” Sherelle insisted. “All that vibration must numb their balls.”
At that moment, a group of bikers swaggered toward them.
“Oh, no.” Nikki patted the table. “They heard you, and now there’s going to be trouble.”
“Tall, dark, and dangerous,” Leanna said, fanning herself. “There’s four of them and five of us, but Jolie doesn’t count, since she’s engaged.”
Impossible. Terri gulped. The guys had the same brooding dark looks as Ryker, although one sported a full black beard, and the other two were grizzled with facial hair. They wore cuts, or leather vests with patches, including the 1% patch proclaiming them to be an outlaw biker gang. Hiding in back of them was—Ryker?
“Why hello there, boys.” Leanna primped her hair and jutted her boobs their direction. “Care to buy us a round of drinks?”
“Well, hello there, sexy ladies.” The lead guy with the full beard leaned over Leanna. “Drinks are on us, and we’ve a bet to settle.”
“A bet?” Terri muttered, slack jawed and unable to keep her eyes from Ryker.
He seemed to be giving her some kind of signal, blinking and shaking his head. His lips were pressed into a straight line, and he darted his eyes from the rough looking guys, probably his brothers, to her and then back at them.
Oh, yeah, she got it all right. He didn’t want her to acknowledge him to his family—didn’t want them to know he’d had anything to do with her. Jerk.
The bearded guy dragged Ryker to his side. “My brother here thinks you ladies are tourists. I say you’re biker chicks in disguise.”
“Oh, we’re definitely—” Leanna started, but Terri clamped her palm over her mouth.
“We’re tourists from Kansas,” Terri answered for her. “The hotel concierge said this place has atmosphere.”
“We love tourists, don’t we?” The bearded guy rocked on his heels. “How about you ladies go for a moonlight ride with us?”
Leanna squirmed from Terri’s grasp. “We’d love to, but there’s four of you and five of us.”
“That’s not a problem, is it?” The bearded guy laughed along with the other two.
Ryker, meanwhile, looked like he’d swallowed a prune.
Which deflated Terri’s already hurt pride even more. There was no way he’d want to be seen with her again.
“I can’t go,” Terri said. “I’m afraid of motorcycles.”
“So am I,” Nikki chimed in. “Besides, we don’t have helmets.”
Sherelle looked at her watch and yawned. “I’m jet lagged. I’m telling myself, Sher, you ain’t in Kansas anymore.”
“Oh, come on, you wusses,” Leanna said. “Jolie, you want to go, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure if I should,” Jolie said.
“How about we buy you girls a drink and then you all come with us back to the clubhouse?” the bearded guy said. “By the way, I’m Drake, and these here are my brothers, Thorn, Maddox, and Ryker.”
“Oh, we know Ry—” Leanna was cut off by a hard elbow from Terri. “Ouch.”
“We don’t know how to ride, period,” Terri finished for her. “Besides, none of us have helmets.”
“We’ll be glad to let you ladies have ours,” the brother ide
ntified as Thorn said. “We’re Wolves in Shining Armor.”
Drake snapped his fingers and called for a waitress. “Round of drinks for these lovely ladies.”
Leanna scooted further into the booth. “Here, guys, sit with us. I’m Leanna, by the way, and this is Jolie, Sherelle, Nikki and Ter—”
“Ahhh chooo!” Terri sneezed loudly. “I feel terrible, but I have to run. Ahhh chooo! I’m allergic to leather.”
“You are?” Leanna’s eyes widened. “But I thought you used to ri—”
“I ride the bus, yes, I’m definitely riding the bus.” Terri shoved her way from the booth. “Ahhh choooo!”
She thumped her way past Ryker, making sure to hit him square with her body, instead of turning sideways as normal people would when passing someone.
There, that’ll show him not to toy with her and act like she was nothing to him.
Chapter Sixteen
Ryker moved away from the table without looking at any of Terri’s friends. They were gawking at him, expecting some sort of reaction from him for the way she’d bulldozed him. He had to remain calm and act as if he didn’t know her or care. There was no way he could let any of his brothers make the connection between Terri Martin, florist, and Teresa Terkel, thirteen-year-old titty-tipper, who more than likely had shown her goodies to all of them.
After pretending to chat casually with his buddy Axe, who was tending bar, he sauntered out of the exit.
The two probes were still hanging around watching his brothers’ motorcycles, but the bus stop across the street was vacant.
Terri had given them all the slip. Good job.
Meanwhile, her friends Leanna, Jolie, and Nikki had agreed to go for a ride with his brothers, leaving Sherelle to drive along behind them in her car.
Ryker couldn’t worry about these women, even though they were Terri’s friends. He could only hope they wouldn’t mention her name. Sherelle, the brightest of the bunch, seemed to have picked up some unsettling vibes, because she kept catching his eye and frowning.
Bad Boys for Hire: Ryker (Bad Boys for Hire #1) Page 6
