Ride To Vengeance (A Rough Riders MC Novel #3): A Rough Riders MC Novel #3 (The Rough Riders MC Series)

by Selene Chardou

  Hardy held Ronan back as he fought with anger, hurt and pain. “How long will you keep her? When will she come back?”

  Fernando laughed out loud. “Don’t worry about that. You’ll get her back when I’m through with her.”

  I turned away—unable to stand the tears and the loneliness that engulfed me like a tomb.

  I’d caused all of this. It was my actions that had set this whole plan into motion and now I had to pay for what I’d done. It wasn’t pretty or even something I wanted to do but the choice was no longer mine.

  It was time to pay the piper and I would do that lest I wanted to lose the only man I’d ever cared about and the only one besides my father who gave a damn about me.

  Chapter Five

  Ronan

  The first few days were the hardest.

  With no word from Fernando and the Feds being of no help what-so-ever, Ronan was forced to cope on his own. Of course he had Hardy and Talia for moral support but what good were they when he didn’t no where the fuck Naomi was and what was happening to her?

  He kept telling himself he’d done what he had to do. They would have murdered Hardy if she hadn’t gone willingly and still would have taken her. She was right. He’d have to stew in his own self-loathing for not being able to protect his woman and concentrate on the fact that vengeance would eventually be taken in its own right.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t do any of that sober.

  He was fucking useless as far as the club was concerned and no one bothered him—least of all Hardy—because he’d gone through the same experience in the past. His relationship with Talia had been far too difficult for him to handle at times. Now she was more or less his, he’d eased up on the booze and acted like the Prez everyone had grown to respect in the short time they’d run the Vegas chapter.

  Ronan sat at the opulent dining room table of their overpriced mansion in Lake Las Vegas and drank straight from a bottle Bushmills. Fuck Jack Daniels—he needed the comforts of something strong and Irish to dull the pain. Talia strode in and took a seat across from him. Her pale green eyes glared at him intensely, and while they were without judgment, her stare never wavered.

  “It’s hard, isn’t it? Betrayal, I mean,” she began in that husky voice of hers that could sing songs as beautifully as she could brutally. “Don’t think just because I put Hardy through the ringer I don’t know what’s goin’ on because I do. I dealt with it plenty of times when Jaden and I were together—hell, even before him, I’ve always had ‘boyfriend issues.’ That’s why it was that much more difficult for me to grasp how I could do it to him.”

  “No offense but I don’t need any pseudo, Dr. Phil dispensed advice. You don’t know anything about my situation. I’m a fucking Cox for fuck’s sake. We live hard, work hard, play hard and love harder. I should know—I grew up with an old man who was in love with a woman more than he loved my mother. That very bitch is now over the operation that has direct causation for me losin’ my woman,” Ronan explained in a whiskey soaked voice before he swigged from the bottle again.

  “That’s not why you resent Eve and we both know it.” Talia cocked her head to the side and studied him. “You despise her because she provided your father with a son—someone Dizzy will always love and adore more than all his other children put together. If that cunt had done something like that to my family, I’d fuckin’ hate her too . . . Unfortunately, she’s my aunt so I love her with all my heart.”

  “Shit twice and motherfuckin’ die. When the fuck did this family get so motherfuckin’ incestuous? Are you tellin’ me that Trey is your cousin?”

  She nodded silently. “Yes, he is. My mother and Eve are sisters. Although she always will be Aunt Antoinette to me . . . and I’m related to the same man you can’t stand though he’s your half-brother. It’s a complicated situation, Ronan—”

  “Don’t give me that shit! I know how complicated everything is but none of this shit has a thing to do with Trey. It’s true—I can’t stand the bastard—but he’s my brother. Not just by blood but because of the club. We live and die together. I know he will always have my back ’cause I’ll always have his—no matter what happens. My issue is that sick fuck and what he’s doing to my old lady right now.”

  “Are you scared she’s enjoying it? Being back in his arms again?” Talia shook her head. “She hates it, Ronan. I know Naomi and there’s only one man she would ever give herself to and that’s you. Being with him . . . what he’s forcing her to do . . . it’s tearing her apart. She isn’t cheating on you if that’s what you think—unless you consider rape cheating on a partner. She misses you so much and every time he claims her body, a small piece of her dies inside.

  “She’s under the mistaken impression you’ll hate her when you do get her back. You won’t want her and you’ll think she’s damaged goods. A cold, harsh look in those gorgeous eyes of yours is more terrifying than anything Fernando could ever do to her. She blocks him out—numbs herself to the situation and her only solace is when everything is said and done, and when all of this is over, you’ll still love her the way you did before . . .”

  “There is no fuckin’ before, Talia. Of course I’ll love her. I still fucking do. So much that my heart aches right now. I’m drunk as fuck but I won’t sleep until I fuckin’ pass out and when I wake up, it’s rinse and repeat. I can’t go a day without her sober . . . it hurts too much and for a man like me to admit that is crazy. I sound like a fuckin’ cryin’ ass, weak little bitch but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her—absolutely nothin’.”

  “I know.” She grabbed his free hand with both of hers and squeezed softly. “When she comes back, just be there for her, all right? Don’t get angry at the situation, don’t ever allow her to see how much pain you’re in. She feels guilty enough—like all of this is her fault. Don’t make her healing process worse than it will already be, all right?”

  Ronan nodded as Hardy burst into the kitchen.

  “We gotta go, brother. Chapel is in less than an hour and we gotta make it across this Valley.”

  Ronan stood, grabbed his cut and nodded slightly at Talia before he left with Hardy.

  “I don’t know what the fook is goin’ on in Vegas but I just wanna make it clear to all of youse there’s to be no retaliation in regards to the whole ‘Naomi situation.’ You said it yourself—she went with him out of her own free will.”

  Ronan lit a cigarette and tried not to reach across the table and throw the speakerphone against the wall, smashing it to bits.

  Here was Dizzy, his own fucking father, telling him he had no rights to go after Fernando at all. All because some fuckin’ gash in a suit he happened to be in love with said so.

  Fuck Eve Kerrigan and fuck the motherfuckin’ FBI.

  He didn’t give a shit about their RICO case. When had Fernando become Mr. Untouchable?

  “Dad, the only reason why Naomi went with him was because Fernando had ordered his men to murder Hardy if she didn’t,” Ronan bit out as he exhaled. “They would have taken her regardless. Would you be so fuckin’ blasé about the situation if your brother was layin’ on a slab?”

  “Listen, you mouthy little shit—Naomi knows Fernando, it’s not like he’s a stranger. He’s not doin’ nothin’ to her she hasn’t done with him before—willingly, I might add. That doesn’t make her a whore or a cheater . . . she’s just doin’ what she needs to do to get out of a bad situation.

  “You need to stow that fookin’ temper of yers,” Dizzy continued. “You don’t like it your old lady is gettin’ plugged by another guy against her will? Tough fookin’ luck. It’s life! The life we chose when we decided to do business with animals, sick fookin twists and men with no fookin’ honor or code.”

  Ronan closed his eyes and tried not too think too much about what his father was saying though he knew he was telling the truth.

  Naomi had known it too.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t interested in the shoulda, coulda, wouldas—he wanted ans
wers right now and his father was being either too stubborn or too dense to comprehend the gravity of the tone in his voice. He wasn’t exactly asking for permission to go after Aztecas Infierno—he would do it, come hell or high water.

  With or without his father’s fucking approval.

  “You’re not listenin’ to me at all, old man.” Ronan dragged from his cigarette as his brothers around the table glared at him as if his ass had spontaneously combusted. “I don’t give a fuck about RICO or all that other shit. I am goin’ to get Naomi and Fernando is as good as dead. Full. Fucking. Stop. You get that loud and clear? Can you fuckin’ hear me now?”

  A few brothers laughed at the obvious joke in tribute to the Verizon commercial but Hardy glared at him with cold, crystal blue eyes and the speakerphone went conspicuously silent.

  “Brothers, if everyone can clear the room except Hardy and Ronan, it would greatly be appreciated. Either that happens or I make a special trip to Vegas just so I can put a bullet in one of me son’s heads,” Dizzy explained as if he were discussing the weather.

  The room cleared quickly and efficiently while his father waited a beat.

  “Are you fookin’ insane? Have you added coke along with all the booze and pharmaceuticals you’re consumin’? What part of you cannot go after Fernando is unclear?” his father replied in a calm and even voice laced with ice and anger.

  “I’m not doin’ any drugs, Pops—that madman has my woman! My old lady and I’m supposed to just take it? What planet are you livin’ on? How long have I been your son? What part of me makes you think I would take anythin’ like this and not do a fuckin’ thing to try to stop it? I have to fight, Pops—without Nomes, I’m nothin’!”

  Dizzy breathed deeply on the other end of the phone. “Son, what you’re goin’ through is tragic. I know ’cause I’ve been through it myself.”

  “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “Your mother was raped while she was pregnant with youse and yer brother. Hell, we weren’t even sure whether you and Quinn were me sons or not until we finally did DNA tests to prove it. This was years later of course ’cause I couldn’t stand the thought you two didn’t belong to me and weren’t gotten from my seed but the possibility was there. Twins run on your mother’s side of the family—not mine—at least, as far as I know.

  “Back then, it was the IRA,” his father continued. “I was gone and they wanted to know what I’d told her but I’d disclosed nothing to your mother. She was black and blue for fuckin’ weeks. It’s amazing you and yer brother survived at all. In her case, she was gang-raped and yet, she held strong. I would never leave your mother for that one reason alone.”

  Ronan laughed as he dragged off his cigarette before he ground it into its own ash. “And what about your favorite? The woman you’re in love with?”

  Dizzy chuckled though it lacked mirth. “What is this? A fuckin’ pissing contest between you and me? You wanna know how Eve suffered? Is that what’s gonna make you feel better about this whole fucked up situation?”

  “Fuck yes it will make me feel better!” he roared into the speakerphone.

  “Okay, you no good piece of shite.” Dizzy paused while he lit a cigar. “They fuckin’ waterboarded her—Aztecas Infierno. When they still couldn’t get what they wanted, Emilio raped her. She spit in his face so he beat her. This was a little over a year ago. Six months ago, that psycho—Dimitri Koslakov—gets a hair up his ass. He realizes Eve means something to me. He abducted her and tortured her for three days. She had cigarette burns and cigar burns all over her body. Then he had some muscled, steroid-raged freak rape her.

  “Do you honestly for a second believe I love her any less?” Dizzy whispered. “Yes, she was violated and reduced to the status of an animal but I cannot fault her for that. It was her body they used but her heart, her soul . . . and her spirit remains intact. She was prepared and trained for that kind of shit and she did her job without complaint—”

  “But Naomi—”

  “Is no different. She’s a Drug Enforcement fookin’ Agent and she can handle whatever Fernando puts her through. Hell, she’s the lucky one. At least they were lovers at one time and she can fake it. I tell you this now . . . if she ends up in any shape different than she returned . . . if it takes her a while to want to be intimate again with you, give her the fookin’ space son.”

  “I wouldn’t act any different than that,” he continued with his eyes closed, trying to will the tears away. “I swear I won’t push her.”

  “And don’t ever . . . and I mean ever . . . accuse her of bringin’ this on herself. I did that and I will regret it for the rest of me life. The human body and the human brain don’t always sync up. Do you think a woman isn’t raped if an orgasm results at the end of it? It was still against her will. She feels just as betrayed by her body as you do. If you make her feel guilty about what Fernando does to her, I will make that trip to Vegas and put a bullet in your brain.”

  Ronan laughed sardonically. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you care more about Nomes than you do about me.”

  “At this very moment, I do.” Dizzy cleared his throat. “Hardy, bring the rest of the guys back in. Let’s finish this meetin’—I got shit to do.”

  Chapter Six

  Naomi

  I awoke to a soreness I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

  It wasn’t the physical acts themselves but the way my anus, vagina and throat throbbed in constant pain.

  I sat up and observed the dark purple bruises on the insides of my thighs, my arms, and around my waist.

  What. The. Fuck. Had. This. Monster. Done. To. Me?

  The night flooded my senses like a rush of blood to the head and I closed my eyes tightly, trying to will away the sights of depravity.

  What Fernando had done; what he’d made me do.

  He’d used and abused my poor body past the point of me ever wanting a man to touch me intimately ever again.

  However if Ronan were right in front of me now, I’d want him to kiss my lips while he caressed my neck. I knew he’d whisper sweet words in Gaelic that he’d never allow something like this to happen to me ever again and I would always be safe with him.

  It was this one thought that forced me out of bed and to my private en suite bathroom. I ran water in the tub and dropped in a few bath salts for good measure, knowing they were going to burn like a son of a bitch.

  Every place below the waist felt sore, from my asshole to my well-used pussy that had taken a beating if one was ever known. My labia and inner lips were swollen from repeated abuse. I could only relive the nightmares but those weren’t the only ones that plagued me. What if . . . I couldn’t even contemplate it.

  Although the thought of a venereal disease was a slight issue, I was more worried about a more common occurrence that happened after two people of the opposite sex indulged in intercourse.

  Ronan and I hadn’t been using anything for the last few months; he wanted me to get knocked up if only for the sole purpose it would force the DEA’s hand and hopefully, they would let me go. Between us, and despite his strong Irish genes, I still hadn’t been blessed with a child. However, knowing my luck and the kind of person Fernando was, he would definitely leave me with a nice little going away present.

  I didn’t believe in abortion—in fact, I thought it was a sin to kill a fetus and didn’t think it was much different from infanticide. In this case . . . my own hypocrisy was stronger than my moral fortitude. There was no way in the world I would bring a baby belonging to that animal in the world. I could get it handled quietly and wouldn’t tell Ronan. Hell, I wouldn’t even get it done in Vegas; I would take a trip up to Birch Tree.

  Speaking of Vegas, from my vantage point of where I lay in the tub and the open window sending a gentle breeze through, the smell was pure Ensenada. I wasn’t even in the States. He’d dragged me all the way back to Baja California just so he could have his way with me.

  Even though I’d spoken to m
y superiors—with him on the line—and they’d reassured him of his safety. He would be fine. As long as he cooperated with the United States government and handed over the information that benefited the RICO investigation, he was untouchable.

  If I could have grabbed Eve by the throat and choked the life out of her, I would have. The pain I knew Ronan lived with now was insurmountable. He felt helpless and hopeless. Would he want me after I lived through this situation of forced rape and sodomy? Hell, I wasn’t sure if I would have even wanted me.

  Not only was I tainted—used goods and not worth the heartache or trouble I’d caused but I was a cold-blooded liar. I’d looked him in the eyes and told him I’d never been with Fernando only for the truth to come out anyway.

  Did it matter the situation was supposed to be classified? Would he care about Fernando being a Federal informant? That he’d bought and sold out his family for immunity and a United States passport?

  At the end of the day, people like him didn’t give a damn about anyone but themselves. He didn’t give a shit about Aztecas Infierno, his brother or his nephew. They were casualties of the cartel war as far as he was concerned. He had his offshore accounts; a shitload of money and knew enough about the underworld wheelers and dealers that would keep him well into the black after RICO decimated the cartel.

  He had his Russian connection that was smarter and more conniving than Koslakov ever could be. His dream had always been to open up the floodgates for human trafficking. Not only in the States but in Mexico as well. There were plenty of wealthy men who had nothing but money and depravity who wanted beautiful, complacent women that did not include the Mexicans they were surrounded by either. They preferred Eastern European women and to have a whole selection at their beck and call was a dream come true.