Ride or Die 1

by Claire C. Riley

  This club, these men, they were my entire family now.

  My life.

  My. Fucking. World.

  I had stewed in my own self-misery for the past couple of months and they’d had my back, and now it was my time to have theirs. The veil of guilt and shame that had clouded my judgment since Butch’s death had lifted, and I was wide awake and ready to do what needed to be done.

  I had a fire in my belly and I was ready to unleash hell on any motherfucker who stood in my way.

  Hardy hadn’t just betrayed me, or Butch; he’d betrayed us all. He’d made our club look weak, corrupted us from the inside out, and there was no way was I going to let that go. My only thought at the moment was how many of my brothers he’d turned against the club. How bad had the poison seeped into the Highwaymen’s blood to make them turn on their brothers so easily?

  As we rode toward the meet, I thought about Rider. He was our VP. Man had a kid and an old lady—Charlie; bitch already hated my guts, but she’d be hating them a fuck of a lot more if I had to kill her old man. I’d always thought he was a good man and a good brother. He was quiet, unassuming. Basically he was the fucking opposite of Charlie. But the man got shit done when it needed to get done. I would take no pleasure in killing him, but I’d do it all the same if it got vengeance for Butch. I prayed I wouldn’t need to, though. Yet every road I drove down led me back to him, because he’d given me the orders to go check out the warehouse that night. And Gauge…how the fuck had he missed all of this happening? He was our Sergeant-at-arms, and the only way I could see this going was with me putting a bullet in his head, effectively killing him and my relationship with Laney. Because there was no way he couldn’t have known. The thought sickened me.

  The meet was supposed to take place in the old granite quarry, so we drove the bikes as close as we dared before parking them and walking the rest of the way. Up ahead, several bikes and a police car came into view, and I knew we’d all be thinking the same thing: the Razorbacks were getting fucking arrogant, turning up to a meet with their true colors on show like that. Fuckers wouldn’t be arrogant for much longer, that was for sure.

  Hills of old granite were piled all around, giving us decent cover, so we headed in the direction of voices, cresting the hill closest to them. I leaned with my back against it and pulled my gun out, and looked across at Casa and Dom. They nodded, both of them ready to do what needed to be done, but all of us dreading who we’d see on the other side.

  Shouting broke out behind us and Dom frowned. Shit was going down. When I looked over at Casa, the crazy bastard was grinning.

  “Maybe they’ll kill each other off,” he said, still grinning.

  “And take all the fun away?” I sneered back. “Fuck that.”

  I stood up to head over the hill and end that shit and so did my brothers when a gun went off and we all dropped back down. I started to slide down the quarry, almost sliding to the bottom of it in surprise, but I managed to get a grip and stop myself around half way. More shouting ensued and we started to scramble back up. An engine started, and when we looked round, two men were getting in the police cruiser and driving away.

  Dom started to make a move on them, but I grabbed his arm and stopped him, shaking my head no. “They’ll get theirs. Today we deal with Hardy,” I gritted out and he nodded.

  We stood up and started toward the top of the hill again, because it was now or never, and never wasn’t a possibility in this lifetime. Hardy was facing away from us, shouting at Rider, who was on his knees, blood trailing from the top of his arm. Pipes was there, a gun aimed at our VP while he bounced from foot to foot eager to spill more blood. Another body lay cold on the ground, but I couldn’t tell who it was from that distance.

  We piled down the other side and started to run and slide almost equally, not giving a shit how much noise we made anymore. Rider saw us first, his head turning in our direction and a look of relief washing over him as Pipes and Hardy both turned to look in our direction. Dom wasted no time and fired his gun at Pipes as we slid down the other side of the granite hill, and Hardy pulled out his gun and fired at me. Of course he fucking did—wouldn’t expect any less from him. Lucky for me that I had a good aim and I shot out Hardy’s left kneecap before he could get a decent shot in.

  Shots flew out over my head as I tucked and rolled the rest of the way down, before coming to a sliding stop at the bottom and getting right back up and aiming my gun at him. Casa shot at Hardy’s arm, and our president dropped his gun as the bullet when through his bicep in a spray of blood. I stalked over, keeping my gun level with his head. Hardy was on the ground reaching for his gun as he groaned into the dirt. He looked up as I got closer and quashed his pain in favor of scrambling for his gun. But I was quicker and I kicked it far out of his reach.

  The man that was supposed to be my father glared up at me, his face contorted in hatred for his youngest son.

  Dom had Pipes by the back of his jacket and was dragging him toward me, and Casa was helping Rider up. The man’s face was bruised and swollen and his arm was shot to hell and back.

  I looked back down at Hardy and sneered. “Looks like you had a visit from the local cops. Thought we’d come and give you a hand, Prez,” I said, disgust in my tone.

  “Get on with it, you stupid bastard. I ain’t got time for you or anything you have to say,” Hardy said darkly.

  I crouched down, my gun still aimed at him and his eyes flitting to it before coming back to mine. Dom had Pipes on his knees next to us, holding him upright. Poor fucker was bleeding out by the second; wouldn’t last for much longer. Not that I gave a shit about his death, but I needed words with him first.

  I looked across at Pipes, watching as his eyes began to roll back into his head. Casa grabbed him and slapped him around the face, bringing him back around before he could pass out. Pipes focused in on me.

  “What did he promise you?” I asked. “He promise you VP status? Money? Or are you just a traitorous fuck for no good reason?”

  “I follow my prez, that’s what,” Pipes said breathlessly, blood spilling out over his chin. “His orders are the only orders.”

  “Nah, that’s not how it works, not in my club,” I spat the words at him. “Brothers for life,” I started.

  “And my life for my brothers,” Casa, Dom and Rider finished for me.

  Hardy laughed bitterly in the background and I swung the butt of my gun at his head opening up a wound that started to pump blood straight away. “Shut the fuck up!”

  I nodded to Casa and Dom stepped back, letting Pipes fall backwards. Casa aimed at Pipe’s forehead and fired, and Pipe’s blood pooled under him, spilling out and tainting the quarry ground red with blood.

  I looked back at Hardy and let out a heavy sigh before standing upright again. Casa, Dom, and Rider were waiting for me to do something, anything, but the moment felt like it was more than just me. Bigger somehow. Like my whole life had been leading up to that moment.

  “Want me to do it?” Rider asked as he came to stand by my side. “Be my fuckin’ pleasure, too, Jesse.”

  I turned and looked at him, my gaze going to his arm. “Fucked you up real bad, brother.”

  “Ain’t nothin’ that a couple of beers won’t fix,” he growled out, but both of us knew that weren’t true. His arm was hanging limply by his side. Casa had tied some material around the top of it to stop the blood, but if there was nerve damage he’d never ride again.

  I patted him on the opposite shoulder. “I got this one.” I turned back to Hardy, his glare burning holes in my skull. “Now now, Prez, no point looking like you just got wrongly shot the fuck up. This is all your own doing. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s over and done with quick enough.”

  Dom lit up a cigarette, and fuck me if I didn’t wish I still smoked. Laney had asked me to quit, so I had, but fuck it, if there was ever a time to start up again, it was now.

  I nodded to Dom. “Gimme one of those.”

  He n
odded and handed me his before lighting another for himself, and I took a long drag on it, feeling light-headed as the nicotine hit me. Goddamn, that was good—not as good as other shit, but I’d missed smoking. Probably the only good thing about being single again.

  “What the fuck are you waiting for, son? You waiting for me to beg? You think I’m gonna break down and plead you for my life? Fuck you, that ain’t never gonna happen. If I was on fire I wouldn’t beg you to piss on me and put out the flames,” Hardy snarled out.

  I barked out a laugh, a calm settling over me that scared me more than it should have. I wasn’t a believer in God, or any other higher power, but it felt to me like Butch was right there with me—standing by my side and aiming his own gun at our father.

  ‘Son? That’s a joke,’ he laughed with me.

  I smiled. “Firstly, don’t call me son. You’ve never treated me like one, so let’s not go throwing names around that we don’t mean,” I said, staring down at him, a strength I’d never felt before alive in my muscles. In every fiber of my body.

  “You’re right, you ain’t never been a son of mine. Bastard boy of a crack-whore. Never a truer word spoken there, Jesse.” He laughed without humor, but fuck me if he didn’t have my attention now.

  “Secondly,” I continued, because fuck him; I wouldn’t give him that power over me. Not anymore. “If you was on fire, I wouldn’t piss on you anyway, not even if you begged me, so you don’t need to worry about that,” I said, using his own words against him.

  We glared at one another, and I threw my cigarette on the ground and put it out under my boot. Then I aimed my gun at his head.

  “And thirdly, don’t ever call my mom a whore!” I bellowed.

  Butch clicked off the safety on his gun and looked at me with a smirk. ‘You ready, little brother?’

  I nodded in response, knowing I was either going insane or I had one foot in the grave already because I could feel the heat from Butch right next to me. The anger pouring from him in waves.

  “All right, enough fucking around.” I flicked off the safety on my gun.

  Hardy lifted his chin. “You don’t even care, do you?”

  “Care?” I snapped. “Why the fuck should I care? After everything you’ve done, everything you’ve put your club through, your own sons. No, I don’t care. I don’t care at all.”

  “I meant, you dumb fucking bastard, you don’t even care that you got him killed.”

  Dom was too quick for me to stop as he dove at Hardy, slamming his fist into his face over and over until Casa managed to drag him back off. And the whole time Butch laughed from next to me.

  Casa let go of Dom and dragged Hardy back up to his knees. Hardy spat blood on the ground in front of him. “Always had a good right hook. Would have made a good sergeant at arms one day.” Hardy rubbed his jaw, and Dom looked like he was about to dive at him again and punch a hole right through his fucking face. “Shame you’re too weak to stand as one.”

  “You got him killed! No one else, just you,” Dom roared in anger. “And I would never stand under you, so go fuck yourself!” Dom kicked out, slamming his boot into Hardy’s ribs repeatedly, and I could have sworn I heard the snapping of bones. But I got it. I did—that same anger had been my driving force since Butch died, fucking up my life on every level. But not anymore. I saw all too clearly now exactly what I needed to do.

  Butch continued to laugh by my side, but his laugh had turned bitter and hungry for violence and more of Hardy’s blood. With every kick Dom gave to Hardy, Butch watched with satisfaction. His gaze never leaving Dom as he stared in adoration at his long-term friend and lover.

  Dom finally stopped, his chest heaving, and Casa once again dragged Hardy up to his knees.

  “He’s right,” I said, looking down at Hardy. “You did this. Not me. And now I’m done being your scapegoat.”

  “It was supposed to be you that went, not him. Though I can’t say I was overly disappointed anyway. Your brother turned out to be just as big a disappointment as you in the end.” Hardy spoke with so much rage that I could practically feel his anger vibrating in the air between us. “Fucking weak, all of you!”

  “A disappointment? He couldn’t have been a better man if he’d tried.”

  “I blame your mom. Something bad in her genes that she passed on to all of you boys. Every one of you had something wrong. Billy died before his first breath, Butch liked to take it in the ass, and you were the bastard son of a crack whore.” Hardy saw the look on my face and he smiled. The blood on his teeth was bright as he spoke. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re a bastard. Never knew who your fucking daddy was, but it sure as shit weren’t me.”

  My breath caught in my throat, his words burning a hole in my chest.

  I felt Butch’s hand on my shoulder. ‘Now,’ Butch whispered in my ear. ‘It’s time now.’ He squeezed my shoulder and then aimed his own gun at Hardy’s head.

  “Yeah, now, brother,” I replied before squeezing the trigger and catching Hardy between the eyes. I saw the flash of confusion in his eyes right before the life went out of them, and then he fell backwards, his body slamming onto the dusty ground, and I let go of the breath I had been holding since Butch’s death.

  We all stared in silence as his blood pooled and mingled with Pipes’, and none of us felt a damn thing about it. Gone were the hate and the anger, the pain and the suffering.

  It all died with Hardy.

  It all ended now.

  Butch patted me on the shoulder and when I turned to look he smiled at me. ‘You did good,’ he said. ‘You did real good, brother.’

  I stared at my brother in silence. Wanting to say a million things, but not having the words for any of them.

  “What now?” Rider asked.

  I turned away from Hardy’s body and looked toward our VP. “That’s up to you. You’re the president now. We follow you.”

  Rider smiled and dragged a hand through his silver hair. “We need to make some calls. Get some men up here to help clear this mess up, and then we need to go to church. Shit needs to be spoken about. Too many secrets and too much being left unsaid. Brothers need to know what’s going on.”

  “No doubt,” Dom agreed. “You think they’ll understand?”

  Rider held his arm tightly, the blood seeping slowly through his fingers. “Fucking hope so, or we’re all dead men walking.”

  “It’s gonna’ be alright,” I said and all three men turned to look at me.

  “Yeah? And what makes you so fucking positive all of a sudden?” Casa mocked me.

  I looked back to where Butch had been, but he was gone. “I just know it,” I replied.

  Chapter thirty:

  present day

  Jesse

  The chapel was standing room only. A room full of pissed-off bikers stared back at me, waiting for me to say something.

  The room was tense, and I looked around the table, my gaze straying across the faces of my brothers, my family, and wondering what they thought about the proposition. It had been a long fucking day. Make that a long fucking three months. But today was the start of something new, and I was starting to realize that new didn’t always mean bad. New could be a good thing.

  It was a start, but I had a long way to go.

  We had the club’s national president—Marbles—on speaker phone, and after talking to him about our suggestion, he’d agreed. Surprisingly easily. Fucker caught me right off guard, because I thought it would have taken way more convincing than it had. But after a quick check of Hardy’s accounts, it was obvious that he’d been scamming our club out of thousands of dollars for a long fucking time. No clue where that money was, but I had no doubt that we’d would find it.

  “So, we’re going to vote on it now. I know it’s been a lot of information to take in, but you’ve all seen the proof, you’ve heard from Marbles, but we won’t move forward without every one of you on board.” Rider looked across the table, his expression grim. “It’s time for us to clean h
ouse, and we’re going to need a strong leader for the job. One we can trust.” He turned to look at me and I nodded approvingly.

  The blinds were turned, stopping anyone from looking in, but the clubhouse was full. The day’s events had far-reaching repercussions, but ones I think a lot of us were ready for.

  “A show of hands, please, brothers,” Rider said.

  “Not even a damn question,” Pops yelled from the end of the table, raising his hand. Dumb fucker had come on over just for the meeting, even though he should have been resting up at home after his stroke.

  Slowly, the room filled with ayes and raised hands. Dom was the last to raise his hand, giving me a slow grin as he pretended to look thoughtful for a second before doing so.

  “Fucking aye,” he said with a chuckle.

  Brother just chuckled! I shook my head. Day was fucking crazy, all right.

  Rider looked across at me. “It’s unanimous, brother.” He slid the gavel across to me and stood up, and we swapped seats before we both looked across the table. “Brothers, meet your new president, Jesse James Hardy—one of the youngest fucking presidents on record.” He patted my shoulder. “But he’s gonna be one of the best.”

  The room was filled with cheers and claps and then everyone began to filter round to shake my hand and give me their thanks. When it was Gauge’s turn, his expression was grim. He’d just got in from a fucking goose chase errand that Hardy had sent him on. Turns out, he’d been doing that a lot. And Gauge had fallen for it. Rider started to clear the room, and Gauge and I stepped to one side to garner a little more privacy.

  “It ain’t no secret that I ain’t never been a fan of yours, Jesse.” His hard look bored into mine. “And after the shit you pulled on my little girl these past few months, I should probably put you in the ground myself—you broke her fucking heart so I’d have every right to, no doubt.”