Ride or Die 2

by Claire C. Riley

  Chapter Twenty-six:

  Casa

  I pulled up to the club, eyeing up the many bikes that were there. The club had been on standby for a week or so now, meaning that we were all on edge, watching each other’s backs way more intently than usual, which was already a lot. But ever since the shit with Hardy and the Razorbacks, things were worse than ever. Nomads were being called in from all over the country, other chapters’ loyalty checked and tested, and of course all orders being dished out by our new prez.

  Hardly spent any time with Shooter since the shit had gone down with his father, and for the first time in years I was at a loose end on my downtime. Not that I had much downtime, of course—the club was a full-time job. Even so, there was still time where I would have been hitting up a bar with Shooter, but instead I had been hitting up Dom’s girl.

  That bitch was sending me crazy. Never been a man that wanted to settle down with an old lady and make a couple of kids before. Maybe get a dog. Basically what Shooter was doing. I was a free man. Didn’t want no ties or no commitments. Yet halfway through fucking H, I’d realized that I wasn’t just fucking her anymore, there was more to it. Not exactly sure what, since I’d basically kicked her out of my house with my balls still drawn and ready to blow.

  All I knew was that whatever it was between H and I, I didn’t want any part of it.

  I’d seen what an old lady did to a man, and not even a magical fucking pussy like hers was going to convince me to claim a woman and make her my property.

  I pushed into the clubhouse, the noise of the many brothers there already putting me in a better mood. Nothing I liked more (other than pussy) than a clubhouse full of my brothers looking to party. I shook hands with a couple of nomads that had come in from out of town, pulling them in for a brief one-armed hug and a pat on the back.

  “Casa, brother, heard you were the man to speak to when it came to decent bitches,” Crank said with a laugh. Man had gotten more tattoos since the last time I had seen him, if that was possible. Practically every part of him was now covered in ink. From his face to his feet he had designs ranging from names and dates to intricate mazes like he was drawing a map to escape from someplace. On any other man it would look wrong and out of place, but on Crank it was right.

  “Fuck yeah, I am. We’ll get you sorted out, brother. Got some girls coming from The Pit later on, they’ll take care of you.”

  “Good ones? I don’t want no dried-up old bitch riding my dick.”

  “Since when did you get so picky?” I mocked.

  “Since I heard you only ever brought in the good stuff to a party.” Crank winked.

  “Too true, brother. All my girls are clean and beautiful. You’ll be fine.” I took a drink that Sketch, another nomad, handed me. “Thanks.”

  “Hoping you’ll take a look at my bike tomorrow,” Sketch said. His dark hair was tied in a bun at the base of his neck, his knuckles the only place with ink on. “Been struggling with a design.”

  If a man had a skill in life, mine was for drawing and painting—and my orgasm-inducing dick, of course. Sketch was good, really fucking good, but he wasn’t as good as me when it came down to faces. He was better at the more artistic shit. All angles and color blocks.

  “Whose face you wanting?” I asked, sipping the whiskey he’d given me.

  “Brother got himself an old lady,” Crank laughed. “Been buried in her pussy for couple of months now. Man barely comes out for food and whisky. But I can’t deny she’s good for him, and me. She’s been giving me new ink. Damned fucking good at it, too.”

  “Is that so?” I asked, feeling jealous.

  “Never thought I’d say it, but yeah. It’s why I’m down here. Hoping Shooter will take me on full time. Nancy and I are ready to put down some roots. Got her knocked up and ready to blow in a couple of months.” Sketch spoke like a man that had won the motherfucking lottery. Proud was an understatement.

  As if on cue, a stunning little blonde woman came over and tucked herself into his side. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. My eyes traveled down her body—couldn’t help it, old habits an all that. She was slender, with little hips and small tits, but it was the slight curve of her stomach that made my throat pinch. Bitch was most definitely knocked up.

  Sketch pulled out of the kiss and turned to me. “So, what do you say? Help a brother out painting this beautiful woman’s face on the side of my bike? I just can’t seem to do her beauty any justice.”

  Nancy glowed from his words, a small blush rising to her cheeks which reminded me of Harlow. I nodded and threw back the whiskey he’d handed to me.

  “Absofuckinglutely, brother,” I said, like the cheerful motherfucker I was supposed to be. But on the inside I was feeling anything but fucking cheerful.

  Just then, Shooter came out of the Chapel with Dom and Rider standing either side of him. “All right, let’s get to Church, motherfuckers,” he called before turning and heading back inside.

  Sketch kissed Nancy again. “I’ll be back soon, baby.”

  “All right, I’ll be here,” she replied, yelping as he smacked her ass and walked away.

  Crank, Sketch, and I headed to Church, and I sat down in my usual spot, making sure to avoid Dom’s gaze. I watched him from the corner of my eye, though. He didn’t look good at all, and I wondered how much of that was down to me stealing Harlow from under him, and how much was his own doing.

  He’d always seemed like a sound brother, but from what I’d seen that morning, he had a whole new layer that I didn’t know about. I wondered if anyone else knew that other side of him too. Seemed unhinged or some shit—not the usual calm and calculated man I had always known him to be. The way he’d gone at Harlow was scary. Of all the shit I expected my brother to pull, that was not one of them. Not on a woman like Harlow. Girl was as innocent as they come.

  Shooter slammed the gavel down on the table, drawing everyone’s attention to him. Conversations immediately shut down and all eyes fell to him. His expression was grim and thoughtful as he took a deep breath before talking.

  “All right, we’ve got serious intel that the Reverend is making a move on another shipment of ours. Fucker don’t realize it’s a plant, though, so that’s lucky for us. Gauge is going to be heading up the task force to catch the Rev’s men in the act, and then we’re going to do some serious interrogation into what the fuck the Reverend is thinking right now. Because the man has clearly lost his fucking mind thinking he can continue stealing from the Highwaymen after the way shit went down with Butch and Hardy.” Shooter looked across at Gauge and nodded, and Gauge looked over the room of men and took over talking.

  “Axle is driving the truck. Brother picked up the order last night and is setting off in the morning for home. Gonna need a couple of brothers to join me in setting up these motherfuckers,” Gauge said grimly. He picked up his beer and took a long drink of it.

  “I’m down,” Crank said, raising his hand. He looked over at me. “Have to hold out for that prime pussy you promised me, brother.”

  I laughed and so did Crank, but from the other side of the table Dom practically growled. My gaze slid across to him, and long, hard seconds went by as we stared each other down.

  “Keep that shit out of the Chapel,” Shooter eventually said, his voice cutting through the atmosphere. “We don’t have time for it. Now who else is going?”

  In Shooter’s hand was a cigarette which he tapped the end of on the table, though he never lit it. He’d been trying to quit for years, and looked like he was still trying. Shit wasn’t easy to do, I knew because I’d tried several times in the past. Given up all hope of ever quitting, though. And as if on cue, I pulled out my smokes and lit one.

  “I’ll go,” I said.

  “Me too,” Dom added.

  “Not a good idea,” Rider said with a shake of his head.

  Dom went to protest but Shooter cut him off by holding up his hand to silence him.

  “You’re in no fit s
tate to go anywhere.”

  “Need to get out of here, Shooter,” Dom said, his voice thick and dark.

  “So get out of here for a while. But I can’t let you in on this. Brothers’ lives are on the line and I need someone with a clear head.” Shooter tapped his cigarette harder, his stare hard and unwavering, making no room for movement on his decision. Everyone in the room was watching the scene, waiting on what was going to happen. Dom cracked first, which is what I expected since Shooter was the most stubborn motherfucker I’d ever met in my life.

  Dom stood up, his fist slamming into the table. “This is bullshit!” He started to walk away and Rider stood up.

  “We’re not done here!” Shooter called to Dom, making him stop walking. “Sit your ass back down. There’s still shit to discuss, and we’re going to need you here. You wanna work that rage out from inside of you, then you do it on Rev’s men when they get brought back here. Now sit your sorry ass back down.”

  Everyone watched, muscles tense, jaws twitching, wondering what the hell was going on. But Shooter? That brother just remained calm and seated, looking half bored by the conversation.

  Dom looked around the room and then slowly walked back to his seat, clearly not happy but following his president’s orders regardless. Rider sat back down, but his hard gaze never left Dom.

  “All right,” Gauge continued, “so there’ll be me, Crank, and Casa. I’ll need one more.”

  “I’m down,” Sketch said with a nod of his head.

  “Great. We roll out at first light. Don’t get too shit-faced tonight because we’re going to be the only thing standing between Axle and a bullet in the morning.”

  “Any more business?” Shooter asked, looking around the room again.

  Sketch raised his hand and Shooter waved at him to continue. Sketch cleared his throat before speaking. “Looking for a club to settle in. My old lady’s got a stomach full of me growing in her and I’m wanting to put down some roots, have a real home for my woman and my kid. I’d like that club to be the Highwaymen, if possible. Always been a friend to the club, and helped when needed. Now I’d like to make it more permanent.”

  Crank patted Sketch on the shoulder and a couple of the other brothers thumped the table and smiled, but Shooter went quiet while he thought it through. Finally he leaned forward and looked at Sketch with a frown.

  “You do good on this job tomorrow, and you got my vote.” Every man in the room thumped the table or stamped their boots on the floor in agreement. “Every one who agrees say ‘aye.’”

  The room broke out into a chorus of ayes that turned to cheers, and Shooter clapped his hands together, his frown lifting and turning into a smile.

  “All right then. Let’s hope this shit goes down well then, brother, get you fully patched in. Anyone else have anything to say?” When no one said anything else, he banged the gavel on the table again. “Get yourselves out there and have a good time then.”

  “But not too good,” Gauge laughed. “We set out at first light.”

  Everyone started to filter out of the room, but when I stood to leave, Shooter looked over at me. “Not you. I need words.”

  I frowned but sat back down. I looked across, noticing that Dom was still sitting too. He was facing forward, but I could see him watching me from the corner of his eye.

  Gauge was the last to leave, nodding to Shooter on his way out and closing the door behind him, leaving me, Dom, Shooter, and Rider inside.

  Rider’s arm was still in plaster, and his features looked tired and drawn, like the injury was giving him grief and preventing him from sleeping. Or maybe it was the lack of riding that was keeping him up at night. I knew riding always kept me sane. Shooter leaned forward, his gaze flicking from Dom to me, and I waited impatiently to hear what he was going to say. I mean, it was already pretty obvious what this was about, but I was a dick and wasn’t going to make it easy for anyone. Especially after how I’d left things with H earlier.

  “Where’s the bitch—”

  “Harlow!” both Dom and I said at the same time, cutting off Rider.

  I turned to glare at him, noting him mirroring my scowl with one of his own.

  “Fucking hell, brothers. Fine: where the fuck is motherfucking Harlow?” Rider lit a cigarette impatiently. “I’m guessing she’s still with you?” he said, looking directly at me.

  I ran a hand through my hair and grinned. Not that I felt much like grinning. In fact I felt the opposite. What I’d done to her was pretty fucking awful, and the more I thought about it, the more I hated myself for it. She was more than likely half way across the state by now—a one-way ticket to the other side of the world to get away from me. Can’t say I blamed her. Pretty much deserved it after the way I’d treated her.

  “Funny thing,” I said. “Ain’t seen her for a couple of hours, actually.”

  Rider scowled. “How’s that funny?”

  “We got into a disagreement.”

  “Still waiting for the punchline.”

  I looked across at Dom, noting that he was full-on glaring at me now. I shook my head and looked away.

  “Not sure what this motherfucker is looking at me like I’m Dr. Fucking Evil for. He’s the one who scared H half to death. She called me up this morning to rescue her fine ass ’cause she thought he was about to kill her or some shit. Probably fucking would have if I hadn’t gotten there in time.”

  “I would never hurt her,” Dom ground out.

  I snorted on a laugh. “You really believe that? Or is that just what you say to help you sleep at night?”

  “I fucking love her. I’d never hurt her!” Dom said, slamming his fist into the table. “What you got yourself involved in was not how it looked. We argued, that’s it. People argue all the time.”

  I laughed again—a bitter, twisted laugh purposely meant to rile him up, because I was an asshole like that. “By the looks of your fists, you were doing more than just arguing, brother. Looks like she picked the right man to me.”

  “She didn’t pick shit!” Dom yelled.

  “Calm the fuck down!” Shooter yelled, but for once, neither of us listened to him.

  I grinned darkly, knowing I should shut my fucking mouth but not being able to. Because if he really thought he had any claim on her, he was sorely fucking mistaken. I might have pushed her away that morning, but that didn’t mean I was going to allow anyone else to have her.

  “She called me, brother. She rode away with me because she wanted me.” I grinned wider. “And she fucked me!” I added as the final nail in the coffin.

  Dom bristled. “You’re lying. She’s got better taste.”

  “She kissed me.”

  Dom cracked his knuckles and shook his head. “Shut your fucking mouth before I shut it permanently.”

  I laughed. “She fucked me and she fucking loved it. Bitch screamed my name till her throat was hoarse.”

  Dom dove across the table, his hands gripping the collar of my cut before I could stop him. Even though I had known it was coming, I still didn’t expect him to move with such speed. We propelled backwards, landing on the ground with a loud thump, our fists hitting out blindly until someone grabbed him from me.

  “Enough!” Shooter bellowed. “What the fuck is going on here?” He glared at me. “You can have any woman you want, but you went for another brother’s. Why?”

  “She ain’t his. He ain’t laid no claim to her. Didn’t see no property patch on her, so who’s to say she’s his?” I argued.

  “I told you! I fucking told you she was mine!” Dom raged. “I love her, Casa!”

  “So do I!” I yelled back, shocking everyone in the room. Even me.

  Well fuck.

  Fucking women.

  Always knew they were going to be the death of me.

  Testosterone levels had reached maximum capacity, the room burning up with raw anger. Dom looked shocked, practically stumbling back on my words. I felt the same way. A little sick to my stomach at the realizatio
n, a little worried, but a whole lot fucking certain regardless.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  I sat back down, my body hitting the chair heavily. “Yeah,” I replied, the energy leaving me in a sudden rush. “Don’t know why, bitch is annoying as fuck. Always—”

  “—Arguing back?” Dom finished for me and I looked at him and gave a dry laugh.

  “Yeah. Never does as she’s fucking told, neither.”

  Dom snorted. “Always thinks she knows best.”

  “Yeah.” I smiled. “I fucked up, brother. I can’t take it back, and I can’t say I’m sorry, because I’m not. I knew I wanted her from the moment I saw her. Just didn’t know how deep it would run once I had her.”

  “But she was mine,” Dom said, sitting back down. His words sounded more like a plea than a fact. “She’s always been mine, Casa.”

  “And now she’s mine,” I replied darkly, leaving no room for him to disagree.

  Dom dragged a hand down his face and looked down at the table. “You could have anyone, so why her?”

  I thought about Harlow. The way her mouth turned up ever so slightly when she was thinking. The way she chewed the inside of her cheek. Her little elf ears and the way her chest and neck went red like her cheeks when she was angry or embarrassed. I thought about the softness of her hands, and the hardness of her nails…I thought about Harlow and my stomach hurt and my heart ached.

  “I didn’t choose this, brother. It chose me.” I put my own head in my hands. “My whole life I’ve lived in my father’s footsteps, never wanting to settle down, always wanting to be a free man. But it doesn’t matter how hard I ran…she…this, I can see now that it was always coming for me.”

  The room fell silent and I squeezed my eyes closed, feeling sick to my stomach. “I don’t want this, Dom. I wish it wasn’t this way, but I didn’t get to choose. I pushed her away earlier but I can’t give her up, brother. I need to fix this. I need her.”

  I realized the total and utter truth of those words. I couldn’t give her up. I fucking wouldn’t. No matter where she was, I’d find her and I’d make her mine again. I would claim Harlow for my own.