Ryder

by Jani Kay

  I rose an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you cunts missed me? Fuck, you’ll make me cry.”

  Ratbag looked at me as if I was crazy. “What makes you think that, bro?” He drawled in his heavy Australian accent.

  Yeah, I’d never admit I missed the fuckers. Or the way Ratbag called the brothers “bro”, as they did in the Land Down Under. He never failed to amuse me with his stories about his homeland and their strange way of speaking.

  Since I’d found Ratbag on the streets one night five years ago, pissed out of his fucking skull, he’d pretty much latched on to me as his mentor. Yeah, like I could ever be someone’s hero.

  He’d been robbed of his passport and all his cash by one of our rival gang members and had nowhere to go. Since he was in the country illegally at the time, there wasn’t much he could do, other than live on the streets. Yet somehow, because of his crazy accent, somebody always gave him money or food.

  The food he’d guzzle down, because usually he’d have skipped a few meals by then. Ratbag was always hungry—he could eat and drink any man under the table. He had an appetite that never quit, yet he was as skinny as he was tall. Even though I was six foot two, I still had to look up to him. And he was fast—he could outrun anyone. Hammer joked that he’d seen Ratbag dodge a bullet once, Matrix style.

  The cash he’d collected over the days, he strapped to his body and when he had enough saved up, he’d go on a binge. He’d buy a ‘slab of piss’, as they called a carton of beer in Australia, and treat everybody to a beer or two. For a night, he’d be OK, accepted into the fold of the homeless, and have a few friends.

  It was his generosity that impressed me. Even though he had virtually nothing but the clothes on his back, he’d share whatever he had the good fortune of coming his way. I wasn’t an easy man to impress, and I’d never actually tell the fucker that, ‘cause I couldn’t afford him getting a big head about it. But I trusted him with my life. He had a good heart underneath all that fucked up boozing shit. It was a good day when I found Bruce Williams, our Ratbag, the boy from Australia.

  “Hey, I need you guys to come to the house to look after Mia and the kids. I need to go to the hospital to see Cobra. Brother isn’t doing too well and I need to discuss business with him. You cool for nine pm?”

  “Yep. We’ll be there.”

  “You can’t come into the house. Young Jamie is having nightmares about everything that’s happened. I’ll tell Mia you’re outside while I am gone, so she’ll feel safe. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone for, we have a lot of shit to talk about.”

  “Take your time, we won’t be in a rush to leave.” Ratbag patted my back. He knew it was going to be hard for me to see Cobra in a hospital bed, shot to fucking pieces, tied to machines to keep him alive.

  “You can’t come with the bikes. Wrong for the neighborhood. Leave your bikes at the shopping center and catch a cab to the house. And make sure nobody is following you.”

  “Sure, boss.”

  “Don’t call me that. Cobra is still fucking breathing. As long as he’s alive, he’s the boss. Got it?”

  Ratbag nodded.

  “Anything else I should know?”

  “Yeah. Razor said there was a fucking cop looking for you. Asked for you by name. Special anti-terrorist team.” I heard the concern in Ratbag’s voice.

  “They got wind of the arms deal that went bad. They’re sniffing around the compound. Razor said to stay away from there. Meet at shopping centers or parks whenever necessary.”

  Fuck. I knew that shit would come back to haunt me. Cobra and I needed a plan. I couldn’t stay away from the fucking compound forever. I’d go crazy. Suburbia was too quiet for me, the silence at night freaked the fuck out of me. Ever since I was a kid, I couldn’t sleep unless there was noise around me.

  “Who’s the cop? Do we know him?” I grunted. I didn’t need more shit in my life. Dealing with our rival MC club, The LA Demon Skulls, was enough.

  Ratbag pulled a face. “Mean looking fucker with a vendetta against bikers. Big as a house. If he wasn’t on the copper’s team, he’d be a good brother. He has so much anger, it fucking pours out of him.”

  Just what I needed—an angry cop with revenge issues. Fuck. “Do you have a name?”

  Hammer worried his lip for a moment. “Ahh, it has something to do with the weather. Winter, Summer—”

  “Get me all the info on him. Should I be kicking your fucking ass that you haven’t done that already?” I growled.

  I shook my head. Was I the only one who could think logically? With both Cobra and me away and just Razor to run the show, I was starting to worry about what was going on at the club. I’d better sort this shit out, fast.

  “Hammer,” I barked, “don’t let me down man, I want everything on the motherfucker. Are we clear?”

  Hammer was our IT guy. He could hack into any fucking computer and get whatever info we needed. He could also forge a document so that nobody could tell the difference. And even though he’d made Ratbag a new Australian and US passport, Ratbag wasn’t leaving his newly adopted country any time soon.

  I’d known Hammer since I was a kid. He’d helped me find Max with his genius hacking skills after we were split up. As soon as I got out of that hellhole of a detention center, I came to the compound with the Malone boys and called it home ever since. Yet I needed to know what’d happened to my little brother. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if he’d survived Tiny’s brutal attack.

  Hammer found Maxwell. He was still living with the band, waiting for Marianne to come back. I’d convinced Max that she was never returning, and he came to the Scorpions MC compound with me for a few years. But Maxwell didn’t fit in. He was too smart. He wanted to read and study, not play pool and darts and drink till he fell down. He refused to get involved in dirty business, and kept telling me I was too smart to live like this for the rest of my life. What he didn’t understand, was that these boys were now my brothers. I owed them my life and my allegiance.

  In all that time, the only person Max had connected with, was Hammer, because he was really smart and they could talk shit for hours. Hammer had taught Max how to ride a motorcycle and Max tried his best to be a badass, for my sake. But my brother had grand ambitions—he wanted to change the fucking world. Do something good and worthwhile. Good fucking luck to him.

  Chapter 15 ~ Ryder

  “You look like a sack of shit man,” Cobra said, his eyes beaming.

  “And you look like a girl,” I grinned, “wrapped in all those fucking bandages. What’s all this shit keeping you alive?” I gestured toward all the machines he was hooked up to. “Grow some fucking balls, man.” Even though I was kidding with him, I was shocked at how much weight he’d lost and how frail he looked lying in the hospital bed.

  Cobra held his side. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

  “Yeah, well white’s not your color. I’ve never seen you wear anything else than black. You look like fucking shit.” I wanted to pick him up and carry him out of there—take him back to where he belonged.

  “Well you look like prince fucking charming without your cut. A fancy boy, dressed in a fucking proper shirt. I’d say you’re the one who lost his balls.”

  “Glad to see you haven’t lost your fucking sense of humor, brother. Guess it’s a good sign that you can still insult me, like always. Means you’re getting better. And I can kick your ass again sometime soon.”

  “It’ll be weeks before they let me out. All the fucking shrapnel they had to dig out—.”

  “Well, there’s nothing wrong with your brain. We can talk...business.”

  Concern flickered in his eyes. “How’s Mia? And the kids?”

  “She’s good Cobra. So is Isabella and James. They miss you, though.”

  “How’s Mia taking what went down? Losing the baby?”

  “She’s a woman. You know what bitches are like. All tough the one minute, then a heap of tears the next. But, I’m taking good care of her. I promise.”


  “I want to see her, Ryder. See with my own eyes that she’s OK.”

  “Right now, you can't. But as soon as she’s strong enough to visit, I’ll make a plan. OK?” He wasn’t happy with my suggestion, but he nodded his head.

  He looked worn down. For the first time since I’d known him, he looked older than his age. Dark circles under his eyes and deep frown lines changed the highly strung, but proud man I’d always known, into a pathetic looking creature.

  “Tell her I'm really sorry.” His voice cracked.

  He lay back, closing his eyes. The machines keeping Cobra alive sounded even louder in the thick silence that fell between us.

  After a few minutes, he opened his eyes. “Yeah, about talking—I've had a lot of fucking time to think while I’ve been tied up here. Listen, shithead. I want you to promise me something?”

  “Yeah? What?” Cobra knew I’d do anything for him. He just had to name it.

  “Promise me that if I cark it, you will take up the gavel.” His voice was strained.

  “Don't you fucking croak on me, motherfucker.” My insides churned at the thought of losing Cobra. I wouldn’t let him die on me—or Mia and the kids—not if I had any say in it.

  “I'm fucking serious, Ryder.” His breathing was labored. The man was exhausted just from talking. Fuck.

  “Cobra. Focus on getting better, man. We’ll worry about passing the gavel when you're six foot under. Not before.”

  “The shooting has changed everything. Fuck, for a minute there I saw my whole fucking life flash by. There’s nothing like death staring you down, to make you think about living—and dying.”

  “You're too young to snuff it,” I protested.

  “We’re all gonna die.”

  “Yeah. I just don't want to talk about it.”

  “You haven’t promised me yet.”

  “Jesus, you're a persistent fuck. I can't take the gavel.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “Razor. It should be his.”

  “Fuck, Ryder. You’re my brother as much as Razor is. I choose you.”

  “I know. And I’m grateful you think that much of me. But Razor—”

  “Razor is a fucking hothead. He’s not prez material. You and I know that.”

  “It’ll be anarchy at the club. Some of the Originals and the crew will back Razor. Right now we have enough shit with the Demon fuckers.”

  A nurse came in to measure Cobra’s blood pressure. We fell silent for a while, lost in our thoughts.

  The nurse broke the silence. “Mr. Malone looks tired. I suggest you let him rest now.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” I nodded. We still had a shitload of club business to talk about, but now was not the time. I'd wait till the man was stronger. I got up to leave.

  “Brother,” Cobra said, his eyelids heavy, “I'm trusting you to take care of everything while I’m in this place. You have to go back to the club again and check in on what’s happening there.”

  “I'll arrange for Ratbag to come and stake out the house, while I go to check the club. Don't worry, everything’s under control.”

  He laughed, a bitter sound. He shook his head slowly. “Wish I believed that. The Demon fuckers are just waiting for their chance. They want me dead, Ryder—and you too. Watch your ass, man. Be careful.”

  I gripped his hand and squeezed. “Rest brother, I'll be back soon. We’ll talk more then.”

  I hadn’t even told him about the cop who was digging for dirt on me, and therefore on him and the club. I didn't want him to worry any more than he already was.

  Cobra felt responsible for Mia having a miscarriage after the shootout. That alone weighed heavily on the man. Although he wouldn’t hesitate to take a fucker’s life, the innocent life of an unborn child was still valued highly by the Scorpions MC.

  We were criminals, not monsters. We killed scum of the earth, not one of our own.

  Cobra would never forgive himself; he'd taken full responsibility and would carry it to his grave.

  Brother had some shit to work out—and a lot of healing to do—not just from the bullet wounds.

  Would Mia ever forgive him? Of everything that went down that day, I think that was the one thing Cobra was most worried about. I couldn't blame him.

  Chapter 16 ~ Ryder

  Another two weeks had passed by and the pesky blond from the agency was due for the next house inspection. Other than the day I had to drop into the offices to get a spare set of keys, I hadn’t seen much of her lately. Thank fuck.

  Mia and the kids were playing in the back yard. There wasn’t much of a garden back at the Scorpions MC compound, so I really was happy that for now, they had the chance to relax.

  Watching them from the bench in the garden, I glanced at my watch. Jade would arrive at any moment—the bitch was never late for an appointment.

  We should probably all have gone inside, but I couldn’t bring myself to break up the fun the three of them were having. Isabella had just started walking and she loved tumbling on the freshly mowed lawn when Jamie pretended to chase her. That made Mia, who hadn’t been sleeping well at all, laugh out loud. I could see it brought her temporary relief from our fucked up situation away from the club. Fun wasn’t something we experienced often.

  Mia and I worried about the other club members and their safety. But I knew it was best for us to be here, away from imminent danger. Unless, of course, we were located by the rival gang—or the cops. Life fucking sucked.

  Hopefully they’d be just fine in the time I was dealing with Jade. I laid a kiss on Mia’s forehead and told her to be vigilant while I was gone. She nodded solemnly, her eyes sad as she watched me hug each of the kids before I went indoors.

  I heard the familiar clicking of heels come up the pathway and smiled to myself as I went to open the door. Jade made a grand entrance every time she came to the house. She was like a fucking whirlwind. It was hard to ignore her presence when she was around. She was always polite and sweet to Mia and especially to the kids. I frowned. Somehow I seemed to piss her off and she turned all bitchy when she spoke to me. Well, the feeling was fucking mutual.

  Sure as hell, she’d be busting my balls again. Pushing every button to drive me crazy till I wanted to grab hold of her. I hadn’t had pussy in weeks, my balls were aching for release. I wasn’t fond of D.I.Y., I’d much rather fuck a bitch than take matters into my own hands.

  I was on edge, from everything going down at the club, from not having been able to go for a long bike ride in weeks, and from lack of pussy. A sick Mia and looking after her and the kids had definitely taken its toll. The cure to calm me down was usually a hard, mindless fuck, and I was in desperate need of one.

  I jerked the door open before she could knock. The surprise on her face was priceless. But then I sucked in a breath. Standing in front of me, she wore a tight as hell white button down shirt and an even tighter fucking pencil skirt. Her blond hair was swept up into a sophisticated bun, yet the soft tendrils that refused to be contained, softened her face and curled on her neck. Her juicy lips were glistening in the sunlight. She’d obviously applied that lip-gloss shit. I could even smell it from here. Strawberry. Fuck me.

  I glared at her. Half of the fucking buttons on her shirt were undone and from where I stood, I could actually look down her top and see her tits, barely constrained and pushed up from the sexy as fuck white lacy bra that peeked out.

  Jesus fucking Christ. Princess bitch had better guard her pussy, or she’d be my next fuck.

  A lump in my throat and a hard lump in my jeans prevented me from speaking. I growled, and took a step backward to let her in. The air that whooshed past my nostrils as she scraped past me smelled of vanilla and strawberry. My cock jerked as her arm brushed my chest. Fuck.

  As usual, she had the annoying clipboard plastered to her side. She was wearing reading glasses today. It looked sexy as fuck on her.

  “I’ll make this quick,” she said, hardly looking in my direction.
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  I’m not sure why, but it annoyed the living crap out of me—both the fact that she avoided looking at me, and that she was in a hurry—as if she had somewhere better to be.

  “Why in a rush, Princess?”

  “None of your damn business,” she snapped. Yeah, she was in top form today.

  “Somewhere better to be?” I baited her. For some fucking juvenile reason I wasn’t resting till I knew why she was so desperate to get away. After all, it was her idea to do the ridiculous fucking inspections. Yeah, I was riled up. I clenched my fists, ready to smack something. Hard.

  Her eyebrow rose as she appraised me for a second. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  Stunned by her frankness, I took a step back. “Yeah? Where?” Jesus, I couldn’t just let it go. I felt like grabbing her and shaking the fucking truth out of her. Usually I couldn’t give a fuck what other people did, as long as they left me the fuck alone. Why did I even care?

  “What I said seconds ago. None. Of. Your. Goddamn. Business.”

  I followed her around the house. Fuck, I was sulking like a kid. Even my dick went limp.

  Her phone rang. She quirked an eyebrow when she saw the caller id. I watched as a blush spread over her neck and up her cheeks. Fuck. It was a guy. Fucking asshole.

  She didn't answer, letting it go to voicemail.

  “It’s a date, isn’t it? With a guy.” I was worse than a dog with a bone.

  She laughed. Actually thought it was fucking funny. Fuck me.

  “If you must know, I don’t date girls.”

  She thought that was funny? My blood started racing through my veins. “So it is a date then? With a guy?”

  “Yes, Ryder. With a guy.”

  She avoided my eyes. The pink of her cheeks intensified. Nervously, she licked her lips. I clenched my teeth. Who the fuck is he? Some rich, spoiled, Ivy League fucker with a flashy car and fancy tastes. Yeah. I knew the type.

  Everything I never wanted to be.

  “So Princess, is he your boyfriend?” My eyebrows rose of their own accord, my arms folded across my chest. Waiting.