Ride or Die 1

by Claire C. Riley

  I threw the dirt onto his coffin and stood up, and I shoved my hands in my jeans pockets and pulled out a scratched key. Laney would never let me go though, not unless I made her. Unless I made her hate me.

  It was the only way to keep her safe—to keep her alive.

  “You said this bike was for me,” I continued. “That you wanted me to have something that always reminded me of you if anything ever happened to you. That it would show me the way to carry on and always pull me back when I started fucking up. But I don’t want it, Butch. You keep it. It’s what killed you in the end—I’m what killed you. And if it was so important to you—if I was so important to you—you wouldn’t be dead.”

  I threw the key into the grave, listening to the sound of the metal hitting the wood of the coffin lid, and then I walked away. The anger burned brightly inside of me, the hate and the guilt for what I had done, and who I had become making it almost impossible to see straight. Voices whispered in my ears and I tried to catch my breath.

  When I got to my bike, Laney reached for me but I pushed her away. “Go home, Laney.”

  “Jesse,” she sobbed, still reaching for me, wanting to comfort me.

  Wanting me to comfort her.

  But I couldn’t.

  How could I?

  She had a chance without me. She had a future.

  But with me…I’d destroy her like I destroyed everything else in my life.

  I looked over to see Hardy straddling his bike. He glanced up at me, watching me with those cold, dead eyes of his. He was right about one thing: I had to do the right thing by Laney. I had to cut her loose before it was too late. What kind of man would I be to keep her? What kind of father would I be if she got pregnant? My father was Clyde Hardy, a monster of a man who cared for no one—not even his own son—and I would turn out to be just like him.

  “Jesse!” Laney cried my name again, the sound of her tears scorching my heart.

  I looked back over my shoulder, seeing that Gauge had her, his arms wrapped around her, dragging her to his body, keeping her from me. He was giving me space, and he was protecting her from me. Because right then, I was a dangerous man indeed, and he could see that.

  I climbed onto my bike, started it, and drove out of the cemetery, still hearing Laney calling my name long after I had gone. Every fiber of my body wanted me to turn around and go back to her. To be with her. But I could no more be loved by that woman than I could be by anyone else.

  I was unlovable, I was a murderer, and Laney deserved someone so much better.

  That was the start of the end for Jesse James Hardy.

  Chapter twenty-seven:

  present day

  Jesse

  I breathed in the humid, early morning air and walked toward my bike. My head felt like it had been hit by a sixty-foot truck and now my brain was just rolling around inside my skull.

  Casa and Dom sat on their bikes next to mine as a prospect waved and then took off in a truck. I reached them and Casa stood up and pulled me into a hug, slapping my back harshly. When I pulled away he was smiling, a large, shit-eating grin covering his face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes today.

  “You ready to bounce?” he asked.

  “Fuck yeah,” I replied, taking my helmet and sitting on the seat of my bike. I looked over at Dom, his expression blank and his gaze faraway. “You okay, brother?”

  “Yeah, just tired after being up all night with your attorney.” He lit a cigarette. “Man knows his stuff. Not sure how he turned you attacking an innocent man and almost killing him into you defending yourself, but he pulled it off. Gonna have to keep your ass clean until your hearing in a couple of weeks, though, but you should be okay. I hope.”

  I nodded. “Laney okay?”

  “Nah, brother, she’s a fucking mess,” he replied with a heavy sigh, like it was him that would have to sort out this whole fucking thing and not me. “And I’d keep clear of Charlie for a while if I was you—she’s out for blood after what you did. You really fucked things up this time.”

  “Nice of you to break that down gently for me,” I said and he shrugged. “I can trust you, can’t I?” I asked, and from the corner of my eye I saw Casa watching us both intently.

  Dom turned to glare at me. “What are you fucking getting at?”

  “Just making sure you ain’t got shit that you’re keeping from me is all. I trust you, like I trusted Butch, and I’d hate for that trust to be misplaced.” I felt shitty speaking out of turn to him, but I had to. Those things had to be said, and I had to gauge his reaction.

  Dom scowled darkly at me, his eyes finding a little fire. “You got something to say, you say it. Don’t be creeping around that shit like a peeping fucking Tom. Just spit it the fuck out.”

  I knew as he spoke, in the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes held the same pain as mine, that I could trust him, and that my guess was going to be correct.

  “Now’s not the time, but when this shit is over, we need to talk,” I said, slipping my helmet on and turning away from him.

  “About?” he dared me.

  “Butch,” I replied, looking across at him.

  Dom fell silent before swallowing and looking away.

  I looked over at Casa, who looked confused as fuck as to what was going on, but I wasn’t going to tell him, despite how much I needed someone to talk to. Butch had kept certain things a secret for a reason, and for some reason Parker had told me. I wasn’t going to let either man down. Because if Butch said I would look out for Parker, then that’s what I would do.

  “Go back to the clubhouse, brothers, I’ve got shit to do,” I said to both men as I started my bike.

  Casa’s eyes widened and then he barked out a laugh. “We’re coming with you, Jesse. Who knows what you’ll do next you crazy motherfucker!” He laughed again, but I could tell he was nervous because my behavior was becoming more and more irrational. What he didn’t know, though, was that that shit was over. I was thinking clearer than I had in months now.

  I shook my head. “I don’t want either of you a part of what I’m about to do. It’s safer for you both back at the clubhouse,” I replied.

  “I’m going with you,” Casa pressed. “It’s not up for debate, Jesse.” For once all his humor had gone, and instead he stared at me straight-faced and serious as fuck. “Whatever it is, I’ve got your back. You want to get Laney back? I’ll help. You want to go finish that other guy off? I’m packing. You got shit to blow up? Let me make a call so we can pick up supplies along the way. I’ve got a shovel in the bed of my truck and a map that’ll direct us to the perfect spot to bury a body that’ll never be found. Whatever it is, I’m down for it—always have and always will be.” His forehead was pulled into a heavy frown, his words clipped and to the point, and I knew he meant every damn word of it.

  “Brothers for life,” I said.

  “And my life for my brothers,” he returned and held out his hand.

  I took it in mine and nodded. I looked at Dom, who started his bike as his only reply.

  “You sure?” I asked him.

  “Promised Butch I’d watch your back.” He shrugged. “But you mind filling me in on what’s going down?”

  “Seems like my brother made a lot of people promise things,” I said with a shake of my head.

  Dom looked over to the doors of police station, watching, as did I, as Parker and another officer walked outside. Parker ignored me, like he hadn’t exploded my world to pieces the night before, but the other officer glared at me like I was the devil himself. Who knows? I might have been. Dom had spotted Parker, though, and it was as obvious as the pope is Catholic that he recognized Parker.

  Parker got in his car—a beat-up silver Toyota Corolla—and pulled out of the parking lot, and I waited a beat before I gave my orders.

  “All right, if you’re in then you should know that shit’s about to go down in a big way. Found out some shit last night, and I think there’s more to come, but right now isn�
��t the time to talk. Right now we need to follow him,” I said, nodding toward the Toyota driving away. “Now let’s get a move on before I lose him.”

  I watched Dom carefully while I spoke, but the man was a blank canvas, as always. I pulled away from the sidewalk and my brothers followed me. And in turn, we followed Parker, making sure to keep our distance at all times, though I had no doubt in my mind that he knew I was following him—in fact I hoped he knew, but I didn’t want anyone else to know I was.

  After thirty minutes, Parker pulled down a side street, taking a left into a dead end, and several moments later we pulled up at a small storage facility. He got out of his car and walked inside, and after parking, we followed him inside too.

  Casa pulled out his gun and Dom did the same, because regardless of everything Parker had told me earlier, he was still a cop. I grabbed my gun from the secret compartment underneath my saddlebags, more than ready to use it if I had to. A friend of my brother or not, I didn’t trust cops. Shit had gone too far, and I needed to know the truth like I needed to breathe. I had a feeling that instead of setting me free, the truth would poison me. But fuck it, I was dead in the water anyway. My club and my brothers were all I had left. But that wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

  With Laney I had tasted what life could be. I’d had something I didn’t even know was missing, and I couldn’t bear the thought that I would never have that again. My life had derailed the night Butch had died, my own guilt and Hardy’s words destroying me, and in turn letting me destroy the only woman that could ever save me from myself.

  Laney was gone now, no way would she forgive me after yesterday. So now all I had to hold onto was getting to the bottom of this nightmare, even if it killed me.

  I pushed open the main door and we stepped inside. It was quiet with no one around, the hallways painted a dull gray color. Shutters were down on the storage spaces, large locks preventing anyone from getting to whatever shit lay inside. After walking for several minutes I worried that we’d lost Parker in the maze of corridors, but then I saw the back of him turn another corner and we rushed to catch up.

  When we turned the corner, Parker was waiting in the doorway of one of the storage rooms. He nodded for us to go inside and we did, his gaze zeroing in on the guns. He closed the door and flicked a switch, and then he turned to stare at Dom, not me, with anger and hurt in his eyes, confirming exactly what I had suspected since around three that morning.

  Dom was the man my brother had been in love with.

  Always knew there was something different about Dom—never suspected he and my brother had a thing, though. Didn’t bother me much, other than that Butch had never felt that he could tell me. The rest, well, it wasn’t any of my fucking business who my brother fucked or didn’t fuck. Or who he loved or didn’t love. In fact, it wasn’t anyone’s business, and I’d kill anyone who thought it was theirs.

  Parker and Dom glared at each other for long minutes, with Casa looked utterly confused by the obvious connection between them.

  “Something I should know about?” Casa said eventually, breaking the silence. His gaze flicked across to me and I shrugged.

  “Dom? We gotta problem, brother?” I asked.

  Seconds passed before Dom finally put away his gun and looked across at me. “Let’s just get this shit over with and get out of here.”

  I nodded and glanced at Parker, who finally tore his gaze away from Dom. “You told me you had more information,” I said, slipping on the safety and putting my own gun away. Parker was armed, but he hadn’t once tried to reach for his gun. I took that to mean we wouldn’t need to spill each other’s blood. At least not that day.

  “I do,” Parker replied tensely. “But I’m putting my neck on the line for you—for your club, Jesse.” He eyed Dom nervously. “For Butch.”

  The air shifted, turning deathly cold in seconds, and I wondered whether Dom was going to blow Parker’s brains out just for mentioning my brother’s name. Fuck knows that if the look on his face was anything to go by, he sure as shit wanted to.

  “So the fuck what? What do you want from us? Cash? Fucking dirty cops always after something,” Casa growled out.

  Parker gritted his teeth and glared at Casa, and fuck me if he didn’t look like one mean motherfucker just then. Course, he was outnumbered three to one, so it wouldn’t mean shit for him. But still, I had to give a little respect to someone who still stood their ground when faced with three angry bikers. Parker had clearly come a long way since high school.

  “I’m not dirty,” Parker snapped at Casa. “And you’d do well to fucking show some respect to the man who knows shit that could save your club.”

  Casa stepped forward and pressed the barrel of his gun to Parker’s head. “Let me blow this fucker’s brains out, Jesse.” He laughed cruelly. “I’ll fucking deliver them piece by piece to your wife and kids, dirty cop.”

  I put a hand on Casa’s arm, because shit was about to go south and Parker had information I needed.

  Casa turned to stare at me. “It’s like that, huh?” he asked, sounding furious.

  “He has information I need. Now go take a walk or chill the fuck out,” I said, hating the hurt and anger that crossed his face. “But either way, you need to back the fuck off so I can talk to him.”

  He turned back to Parker. “Another time, pig.”

  “I’ll be waiting for it,” Parker replied darkly. His gaze moved across to me. “You got my back?” he asked, and I heard Casa suck in a breath.

  “I ain’t got shit for you until I know what you know. So you better make sure your Intel is solid or Casa there has got free rein on you. Now,” I asked, already tired of this bullshit, “who the fuck killed my brother? And where the fuck can I find them?”

  I felt both Dom and Casa staring at me, probably wondering what the hell I was talking about. —in fact, definitely wondering what the hell I was talking about. Up last night, the whole club and everyone connected to it had believed that Butch had ridden drunk and crashed his bike. Including me. But now I knew differently and I was about to blow this shit wide open.

  Now I had a new purpose in life. And my purpose was to find who had harmed Butch and send them to ground in the most painful fucking way possible. No matter what or who the costs were. Someone had to pay.

  “The Razorbacks,” Parker replied, and his tone didn’t just hold sadness and grief, it was filled with the same regret and anger that matched my own.

  Both Casa and Dom looked way ore alert after hearing that name.

  “And who are the Razorbacks?” Dom asked, finally pushing his personal shit to one side to join in the discussion. Thank fuck for that.

  Parker’s gaze shifted across all three of us, and I could tell he wasn’t happy about what he was about to say. “Cops,” he finally said, the words lying heavy between us. “The Razorbacks are cops.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight:

  present day

  Jesse

  “Fucking pigs!” Casa growled out. “Knew you dirty fuckers were just as twisted as us.”

  I dragged a hand down my face before looking over at Casa and Dom, understanding the shock that covered their faces. For me this wasn’t new news, not really—more like a confirmation. Around three a.m. I had finally realized what the name Razorbacks meant. And it was so obvious I wanted to shoot myself in the fucking head for missing it to start off with.

  Razorbacks are pigs—dangerous pigs, to be exact. Ain’t that the fucking truth. But Casa and Dom were new to this loop, and they looked irritated as fuck that pigs were the ones trying to move in on our territory. Pretty sure Parker didn’t know that part, but I could have been wrong. I’d been wrong about a lot of things recently.

  “How the fuck are they operating under your noses? Don’t you cops have bureaus to sniff out shit like this?” I shook my head. “I mean, fuck, how are they operating under our noses, for that matter? Barring the run-in the other night, this is the first we’ve really heard of them.”


  Parker took a long breath. “From what I know, it started out by pure good luck—bad luck for the Highwaymen, though. We busted a guy of yours a few months back, goes by the name of Skinny, right?”

  “What about it?” I asked, already not liking where this was leading.

  Skinny had gotten caught by the ATF a few months back and was now looking at serious fucking time in the DOC for his services. Poor bastard had a wife and two kids, too. Of course the club would look after them, but that wasn’t the point. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known the risks, but I still couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

  Parker looked regretful as he continued. “Well, a security guard named Robert Brady used to work the night shift over at the evidence lockup in Atlanta. Stupid fucker had a gambling problem and somehow got the bright idea that he could steal a kilo or two of blow from the evidence lockup that he’s supposed to be watching—the blow that your guy had been caught with when he was arrested. He traded it in with his debtors as a way to clear some of the money he owed. But then he got greedy because he’s making easy money, right? And good money, too. The stuff in lockup is pure and uncut. Dumb bastard is rolling in it before long.” Parker paced the room and shook his head. “Man thinks he’s some kind of hotshot and starts stealing more and trying to sell it on. But all good things must come to an end, and eventually the Reverend got wind of it and had a few words with him—of the violent type, if you get me. Well, Roberts’s body showed up a day or so ago, down by Kenilworth Lake. Turns out, the Reverend switched out Robert for one of his own guys on the payroll, and now the Reverend is taking the drugs. Your drugs.”

  “And the whole thing’s going unnoticed?” Dom scoffed and looked across at me.