Breaking the Rules (Roaming Devils MC #1)

by Lexie Davis

  Each time Ryker went to the processing warehouse, he came out like a junkie going through withdraw. It was bad enough when he’d gone to get Ella’s father, but Young Blood’s setup wasn’t anything like the one the Roaming Devils ran.

  Ryker huffed a breath and grabbed the coke from his saddle bags. He needed to get in and get out. Opening the door, he took a deep breath and went inside. The processing of cocaine was in numerous phases. They had the raw cocaine that was pure and untouched. Then they cut it, mixing it with something that tainted the purity but drove up the cost. Afterward they packaged it, then sent it out to be distributed. Ryker stopped, instantly smelling the powered dust that came from cutting it. He needed a respirator but he didn’t have one handy.

  “Aw, look who decided to drop by.” Torch smiled at him and slapped him on the back. “Long time no see, brother.”

  Ryker smiled at the other man. Torch was the lead chemist in the factory. He collected and produced the most sought after cocaine in the city. The man kept the Roaming Devils in business and he was fucking worth his weight in gold.

  “Yeah. We got you some goodies.” Ryker slapped Torch on the back as they hugged before he handed over what he’d collected.

  “Ah, nice.” Torch grabbed a large knife and slit the packaging of one of the bricks. Getting a little of the powder on his finger, he brought it to his mouth and tasted it. “Fuckin’ A. Have you tried the new shit? No wonder this city is so damn needy for this stuff.”

  “No. I need to go. We’ve got several assholes that haven’t paid and I get to be the one to remind them. Make sure the shit keeps being a hit.”

  Ryker fist-bumped Torch and turned to leave, eyeing Ghost on his way out. Bullshit was all it was. Ghost would go back to Razor and report Ryker’s every fucking move. He was surprised the rat didn’t keep a pen and paper to take notes.

  Once outside, he pulled his sunglasses on and glanced around the area. The warehouse was under the guise of printing labels for various commercial products, which was what they legitimately did on the other half of the building. It kept the police off their back and money coming in their pockets.

  Ghost caught up with him when Ryker straddled his bike. For a biker, Ghost was fairly stereotypical. His long, chestnut-colored hair fell to his shoulders. He was muscular without being beefy and the tall stature was enough to intimidate. Ryker knew he couldn’t hold his weight in a fight. They’d had them periodically just to blow off steam and Ghost was a four-time loser to him. It was a joke, really, that Razor wanted him as his VP.

  “You need to get back to the clubhouse.”

  Ryker saluted him. “While you’re being my father’s bitch boy, tell him to fuck off.”

  Ghost pulled out a handgun and pointed it at him. Ryker didn’t even flinch. “You need to get back to the clubhouse.”

  Ryker stood. “You had better get that gun out of my face before you end up six feet under.”

  Something about his demeanor had Ghost retreating. Punk. The other man didn’t say anything as he straddled his own bike and started it. “If you keep acting with this rebellion, there will be repercussions.”

  Ryker watched as Ghost left. It took some serious balls to pull a gun on another member of the club. He knew Ghost would go back and report to his father about what had happened. The fucker was just there to keep him in line and give him the measly threat. Ryker’s hands shook as he gripped his bike and started it. He wasn’t scared of what his father brought against him. It pissed him off.

  The sweetness of the bits of cocaine he’d breathed in from the processing of it made him tingle with a need to have more. He was walking a fucking deadly line. He knew it and somehow he couldn’t seem to stop. He turned around and rode toward town. Ella had said that if he needed her he could come to her.

  He needed her.

  Bad.

  ****

  Ella stepped into her father’s hospital room, smiling at him. After a few weeks recuperating he was still on the mend but getting stronger and better each day. She leaned down and kissed his bruised cheek.

  “So how is my worst patient feeling today?”

  “Ready to go home.”

  “I understand. Your body, however, isn’t ready for that yet. You’ve still got at least another week in the hospital. Most of your swelling needs to come down, especially around your eyes.” She rubbed his hand. “Just live it up that there are people here ready to wait on you hand and foot, and that cute little CNA is willing to give you a sponge bath.”

  He chuckled. “After paying for all that education, I expected you to sign my discharge papers and sneak me out the back.” He glanced toward the door. “I need to talk to you. Privately.”

  “Okay.” She walked to the door and closed it. “What is this about?”

  “The Roaming Devils.”

  Ella did her best to hide her reaction. “What about them?”

  “Don’t think I don’t know, Ella. You got them to get me away from Young Blood.”

  When she didn’t say anything, he cursed. “What did you exchange with them? What did you do?”

  “I asked Ryker for some cocaine.” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t give me any. Not even a little bit. Razor met with me and our deal was I leave Ryker alone in exchange for them helping me. No harm, no foul.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She snorted. “Well, that’s the deal.”

  “Nothing illegal?”

  “No.” She hated lying to her father.

  “He wouldn’t sell you the coke?” her father asked. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t have it.”

  Her father grunted. “He has it. The Roaming Devils are one of the largest coke dealers in the city. Young Blood was in competition with them.”

  “I don’t know about that. All I can say is that I didn’t do anything illegal and you don’t need to worry about either one of them right now. You need to focus on getting better.”

  “Your mother said that you were in trouble. That this whole rescue thing got you in trouble.”

  “My mother doesn’t know shit about what’s going on.” Ella squeezed the railings of his bed. Her mother simply couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut. “And if you don’t rein her in, she’s going to start saying stuff she knows nothing about and get everyone in trouble.”

  “What has she said?”

  “She asked me a million questions about the Roaming Devils, drawing her own conclusions based off nothing. She knows nothing about them but making stuff up isn’t going to be good for any of us.”

  He nodded. “I’ll have a talk with her.”

  “Good.” Ella glanced over toward the door. “You scared us both when Young Blood got you. Please don’t ever do anything like that again.”

  He didn’t say anything. Her father was a cop and he had to take out the bad guys. It was in his blood. There had been some scary situations over his twenty years on the job, but nothing as bad as the most recent.

  After spending a few hours with him, Ella’s cell phone rang and she frowned at the readout. “Dad, I need to go. I’ll come back later.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Go save the world.”

  She smiled at him and left, answering the phone on her way to the elevator. “Hey.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Hospital. Why?”

  “I need you. I’ll meet you at the clinic.”

  Ryker hung up and she frowned, getting into the elevator. That didn’t sound like a sexual call. She rode the elevator to the second floor and went out to the parking garage. The distance between the hospital and the free clinic was merely a few blocks. When she pulled in, she saw Ryker on his bike, waiting. Ella parked next to him and got out.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His hands shook. “I need help.”

  She pocketed her keys. “Okay. Are you having another craving?”

  He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “I breathed some of the powder in.”


  Ella stared at him. She didn’t know how it had happened, but it didn’t really matter either. He’d come to her because he trusted her. Because he wanted her to help him. Ella’s mind kicked into full gear. She rubbed her hand along his arm, trying to calm him down.

  “How long ago?”

  “Minutes.”

  She nodded. “Okay. Was this the first time in years?”

  He opened his eyes. They were glossy with need. He kept his fists clenched as he sat there taking one breath, then another.

  “I can give you a prescription or I can sit with you and let you ride it out. A craving only lasts for a little while, but if you’ve breathed in some of the powder, it could have the full effects of withdrawal.”

  He groaned and pressed his fingers into his temples. “Just fucking sit with me.”

  “Okay.” Ella glanced around. “I can make you a bed in the clinic or we can go to my apartment.”

  He got off his bike and Ella watched as he walked around to the other side of her car.

  “Or we can sit in my car.” She unlocked the doors and he got in the front seat while she got in the driver’s seat. He leaned over, resting his head on her shoulder. She saw drug addicts that craved their drug of choice but she didn’t have much experience with those trying to quit the habit. Ella turned slightly, kissing his forehead.

  “Can I ask how much you breathed in? Did you snort it?”

  “No.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. “I’m not high and I didn’t do it to get high.”

  She believed him. The struggle he went through was not that of someone that teetered back and forth with drug use. He didn’t really seem to want to feel the way he felt.

  “Can you tell me what happened? Was someone using around you?” Of course they were. The whole fucking club shared drugs.

  “No talking.” He pressed his face into her neck. “I’ve got a bad headache.”

  Ella squeezed him to her, hating that he felt horrible. “If you can gauge how much you inhaled, then I can figure out how long this is going to last.”

  “It’s going away.” His lips moved against her neck. “Coconut is better than coke.”

  She frowned. “What?”

  “You smell like coconut.” He groaned, taking a deep breath. “It’s fucking delicious.”

  She smiled, chuckling lightly. “Maybe you really are high.”

  He kissed her neck. “I could eat you right now.”

  She pulled back and stared into his eyes. He cupped the back of her head and pulled her mouth against his. She’d never kissed anyone like him. Most guys didn’t know how to seduce with their tongue. They shoved it into a woman’s mouth and thought that was sexy. But Ryker knew exactly what he was doing.

  His phone buzzed and he jerked away from her to answer it. He went from complete happiness to agitated within seconds. “I’ve got to go.”

  She rubbed his arms. “Do you feel better?”

  His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “More than you know.”

  He kissed her briefly before getting out of the car. She watched as he walked around and got on his bike. The roar of the engine sounded next and she smiled at him. Then her mind drifted to why he’d breathed in cocaine. She didn’t know much about their operation, but she did know that most of the club members did drugs. The first thing an addict needed to recover was a new environment and she couldn’t help but applaud his ability to stay mostly clean while still being part of the club. So many people couldn’t do it and wouldn’t do it.

  Blowing out a breath, she decided to go home. If she didn’t have to be at work, then she wasn’t hanging around.

  Chapter Six

  It was no fucking surprise that Ryker was greeted by a pissed off crew when he got to the club. Ghost had two of the stronger members grab him and hold him while his fist made contact with Ryker’s face. It was the only fucking way he could get some punches in. He gave an uppercut to his jaw before throwing a few punches at Ryker’s stomach. Ryker spit blood to the ground and stared at the sorry bastard.

  “Enough.” Razor came toward them. “What the fuck happened between you two?”

  Ryker didn’t look away from Ghost. He stood there, waiting for his chance at retaliation. Ghost was a little bitch boy. It was written all over his face.

  “He went to the bitch’s apartment again.”

  The damn idiot was grasping at straws. “Actually, I didn’t but you don’t have enough fucking common sense to know that, bitch boy.”

  Ghost punched him again and Ryker smiled. Razor stepped between them. “Go cool off,” he told Ghost. Razor turned toward him and motioned for the other members to let him go.

  Ryker jerked his arms away from them and stared at his father. “Brotherhood, my ass. You had that damn asshole follow me to the drop off. I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

  “Brotherhood.” Razor rubbed his scruffy chin. “What exactly does that mean, Ryker? What have I told you all your fucking life?”

  Ryker stared at him. The man before him had given him life, yet he had no reservations about forcing him to get rid of the only thing that made sense to him anymore. When he’d been a kid, his father hadn’t been around much. Ryker’s grandfather had been the president of the club and Razor his sergeant-at-arms. His father went around living whatever kind of life he wanted doing whatever the hell he wanted behind his grandfather’s back. Razor didn’t like family. He liked legacy. He wanted a kid and ended up with one. Ryker didn’t know much about his mother other than her name. Razor had taken over full responsibility for him at his birth. His grandfather had done the same, raising Razor to be the sadistic bastard he was. Razor had wanted that same fate for Ryker, a kid to carry on the Roaming Devils’ name.

  “It’s family. Community. It’s about loyalty and respect.”

  “And where does the doctor fit in that?” Razor met his gaze. “You disrespected me by not listening to a direct order. I told you to stay away from her and you run back to that pussy like a coke whore needing a fix.” Razor pursed his lips. “I question your loyalty, son. Before this bitch came into your life with her sad little request of us helping her daddy, you were on a fast track to becoming the leader of this chapter. Everyone in this fucking club knew that you would succeed me despite Ghost’s position. You can’t fucking do that if you got your face down in some girl’s lap.”

  He shook his head. “My loyalty to this club has never been in question. I do what I need to do. What I do in my own time is my fucking business.”

  Razor arched an eyebrow. “Your own time? You’re my fucking sergeant-at-arms. You have no fucking time of your own. Everything you do is for the club. It’s a reflection of the club and it is for the greater good of the club. What is the fucking hold this bitch has over you? Ever since you were a kid, you’ve been sniffing around her. There’s no place for that bullshit here. None. She’s a threat and she’s a problem. If you cannot see that, then I’m going to have to make you see that.”

  The two beefy members grabbed him again. Ryker tried to get away from their grip, but he didn’t go anywhere. They tightened their hold on him to the point his arms fucking hurt from being twisted at an odd angle.

  “Do it.” Razor motioned toward Ghost, who pulled out a needle.

  “No.” Ryker shook his head, struggling more.

  The club was no stranger to using drugs to control people. It was how they kept their women coming back for more without regard for their dignity. He’d been clean for so long. Struggled with it for so long. Tears filled his eyes as Ghost found a vein and inserted the needle.

  The cold rush flowed through his veins and it felt pretty damn good. Ryker’s eyes drifted closed as his head dropped forward. The feeling was almost orgasmic. When he gagged, the beefy members let him go so that he fell facedown on the floor. The rush was the best part. It took over his body and made him feel like he was king of the fucking world.

  Ryker lay there in his own personal hell.
He felt too damn good to be pissed at what was happening around him. It was a fight inside him that he couldn’t control. He knew exactly what they’d injected into him and knew exactly what game they were fucking playing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ghost filming him and vowed to slit the dickhead’s throat when he got a chance.

  Sweat poured out of his body and one of the prospects brought him a bottle of water to cool him down. He stared at Ghost.

  “You got what you fucking wanted. Get that damn thing out of my face.” He poured the water over his head. He’d give them the fucking show they wanted. Then he’d kill them without blinking an eye.

  ****

  When Ella was put on-call, she hadn’t realized that meant for the ER too. For whatever reason the hospital was short staffed that night and she had to fill in for the trauma doctor that left unexpectedly in the middle of his shift. It’d been a few weeks since she’d worked in ER, but it felt like a lifetime. There was a certain pace and expectancy that came with emergency care that really kicked her butt after the fifth hour. She still had a few more to go.

  “Ally, I’m going to take a break. I didn’t get any lunch and I really need to eat something before I pass out.” Ella left the ER for the restaurant within the hospital. It was a cozy little diner that had a good selection of food that tasted decent enough. She bought herself some meatloaf and a drink before she settled at one of the empty tables.

  She grabbed her phone and decided to return calls. Her father had dialed her twice, asking about dinner. That was more than three hours ago. And Ryker called. She pursed her lips. The thought of him needing her again while she was working worried her. He really hadn’t looked good before and she didn’t know what the damn club made him do, but he didn’t need to be around the drugs. She clicked on his message and realized it was a video. Frowning, she pushed play.

  On the screen she watched as someone injected Ryker. Then the phone was handed to another person as they filmed Ryker nearly climaxing from the shit they shoved into his veins. The video cut to another scene where he snorted a line of cocaine off a table in what looked like the club. He glanced up at the man filming him and raised his middle finger, laughing. Ella sat stunned. She watched him do another drug, injecting something into his vein. He said something about the Roaming Devils, though she couldn’t understand him, and the video ended with him pulling the tourniquet and pushing the plunger of the syringe. His eyes closed as his head dropped back, a smile stamped on his face.