Broken (Motorcycle Club Romance): Ryder and Sawyer 1 (Fallen Idols Motorcycle Club Book 3)

by Rylan, Savannah

  “Who’s she?” the guy who I’d never seen before, asked. He was young with a dark blonde faux hawk and menacing eyes.

  “She’s the infamous Sawyer.” I knew that voice anywhere. It was liquid ecstasy, flowing through my ears, and sending heat to my core.

  I stormed in here, ready for a fight. Now, with him so close, I couldn’t find the strength to turn and face him. Damn it. A million memories popped into my head, and it took all that I had to push them back to where they belonged. Out of sight and out of mind.

  “Cruz’s sister?” the young guy asked.

  “The one and only,” Ryder said.

  Hearing Cruz’s name reminded me why I was there. I was doing this for my brother. I pushed the hesitation holding me back away, and turned to face my past.

  “Ryder,” I started, hating that my voice hitched when my eyes landed on him. His brown hair was shorter, buzzed down on the sides, and long on top, but not nearly as long as it used to be. It was pushed back out of his face, giving me the perfect view of his beautiful grey eyes. One look at them, and I’d be a goner, so I kept my gaze away. Instead, I found myself scanning the familiar tattoos on his arm, and discovering the newer ones.

  “What do you want?” Ryder asked with a roughness to his tone. It was apparent he was still pissed at me for walking out on him all those years ago.

  I tore my eyes away from the bulge of his muscles against his white t-shirt and beneath his cut. He wanted to go about this without the pleasantries then so be it. “You sponsored my brother? How dare you?”

  Rev clapped, and bounced a little on the bar. “Here we go.” His excitement only fueled my anger.

  “Someone had to take care of the fucking kid,” Ryder spat.

  “Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”

  He smirked, and I wanted to slap it off his face. “Oh come on, Sawyer. You’re a smart girl. Went to college. I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you.”

  His words were like a dagger to my heart, and they had nothing to do with why I was here. I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be a dick.”

  “Why? Because you’re going to walk out on me? I’m used to it. So have at it.”

  I stumbled back, wishing I never came here. This conversation. I wasn’t ready for it. But, if it would make him feel better. Help him get past the bullshit so we could focus on the real issue then so be it. “Come on, let it all out. Tell me everything you’ve been holding in for the past five years.”

  Ryder stepped closer to me, engulfing me in his intoxicating scent. “Hate to break it you, babe, but I’ve got nothing. I got over that shit years ago.”

  I didn’t know if what he was saying was because there were other members there. He’d never reveal too much in front of them, opening up and showing his vulnerability. Or if he really hadn’t had a single thought about me since that night I took off without a goodbye.

  “Good,” I forced past the hot lump in my throat. “Now, let me make it clear. My brother is not your problem. You stay the fuck away from him.”

  “Oooh! She told you,” Rev said, taking a swig from the bottle of tequila.

  “Shut the fuck up, Rev.”

  The door opened, and Cruz walked in. “Out!” I yelled, pointing toward the door. “We’re leaving.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. My shift starts now,” Cruz said, pushing past me and greeting the guys with handshakes and back pats. The word Prospect on his cut was mocking me.

  I was too late. He was already becoming one of them.

  Anger rose inside of me. I went to lunge at Cruz, and drag him out by his shit-eating grin when a large, warm hand wrapped around my forearm, and yanked me down the hall. A familiar spark shot through me, and I tried to ignore how turned on I was from a single touch.

  “Oh come on. It was just getting good,” Rev called after us.

  Ryder opened a door, and tugged me behind him, slamming it.

  He let go of my arm, and the fog in my head cleared. “So, not only do you have my seventeen-year-old brother working in a bar, but you’re sponsoring him? Bringing him into the one thing that broke my family apart. How could you?”

  “Like I said, someone had to take care of the kid. You took off. Never giving it a second thought. I couldn’t stand back, and watch him destroy himself.”

  “Destroy himself?” I might have been gone, but it’s not like I hadn’t kept in touch. I had weekly calls with Mom, and every now and again she would get Cruz on the phone. The angry guy I’d come back to wasn’t the sweet kid I talked to every Sunday.

  “Las Almas was scoping him out. An insider tipped me off. Idols might not be rainbows and fucking sunshine, but we’re not drug-dealing dirt bags either. Hate us or not, we’re still better than those fucking bastards any day.”

  My nerves calmed as curiosity took over. “What do they want with him?”

  “They’re looking to expand their business.”

  I tilted my head in thought. I only knew one business Las Almas was a part of. “Drugs?”

  Ryder crossed his arms, and leaned against a table. “Coke, meth, heroine… you name it, they sell it, and they want to start selling in the schools.”

  “I still don’t get why they want Cruz?”

  Ryder pushed off the table, and paced a little. He looked as if he had the whole world sitting on his shoulders, weighing him down. “He’s a senior at the high school, and they’re desperate for new business. They need someone on the inside to work the high school crowd. I couldn’t stand by, and let that happen. So, I figured that, if I sponsored him, he would pledge his loyalty to the club, and ignore them. As part of his duties, he has to work at the bar. It keeps him off the streets and off of Las Almas radar. ”

  He wasn’t doing it to spite me. He was doing it to protect my brother. There was still one thing I was unclear on. “I don’t get it. Cruz isn’t one of them.”

  “That’s the other problem.”

  I looked up, catching Ryder’s beautiful grey eyes.

  He held my gaze. It was intense, and full of concern. “They think he is.”

  FOUR

  SAWYER

  The look in his eyes scared me. Chilled me down right to the bones. “What do you mean, they think he is?”

  “You’re both half Mexican. Las Almas is trying to claim that half as theirs.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. My mother was a hundred percent Mexican, and my father was a blond haired, blue eyed white boy. They were total opposite ends of the spectrum, but the love that they had for each other showed no boundaries. And their blood ran navy blue, the color of the Idols.

  Cruz and I might be part Mexican, but Las Almas and everything they stood for would never be a part of us, or anyone I loved. “He’s not one of them,” I finally said.

  Ryder smiled, and my heart melted. “I know, and that’s why I did what I did.” I understood it. Sometimes, to save the ones you loved, you had to go to extremes. Still, I didn’t have to like it, and I sure as hell didn’t have to agree with it.

  Ryder rested his hands on the back of his head, and spun around. The silver linked bracelet I got him when were sixteen slid up his forearm. My heart clenched at the sight. He still wore it.

  “Five years,” he finally said. “For five years, I’ve thought about what I would say to you, if I ever saw you again.”

  “I thought you had nothing,” I spat.

  “You and I both know I always have something to say.”

  “So say it.” I gulped down the fear. There were so many things he could say to me. Most of them would be downright hurtful and cruel and…I deserved every single one of them.

  “That’s the thing. For once, I don’t know what to say. When I found out a few days ago that you were back, it took all I had not to come pounding on your door, demanding an explanation. And now…I don’t want one.”

  Tears pricked my eyes, and my throat burned. “Why not?”

  “Because you’ve been back for a few days, and the only reason
you’re standing here right now is because of Cruz. You don’t give a shit about me.”

  His words stabbed deep, and pulled up, gutting me from the inside out. I tried to convince myself that was the truth, but I couldn’t erase our lives together. You don’t exactly forget your first love. There was too much history. He knew me better than anyone. Better than my friends. My family. Myself.

  “That’s not true,” I finally said and stepped toward him, refusing to let him think that I didn’t care. Time was nonexistent with us. Five years or twenty years, it didn’t matter, because the truth was, I would never stop caring about him. Tears pooled in my eyes, but I forced them back as I glanced up at him.

  His eyes locked with mine, and he ran a finger down the curve of my jaw. Chills shot through my neck and down my spine. “I want to believe you,” he said, resting his forehead against mine, his lips mere inches from my own.

  I wanted so desperately to close the gap, and press my mouth to his. Remembering how just a kiss from him would soak my panties, and wanting to feel that connection we always had. I looked up and touched my lips to his.

  He stood there, hard as a rock, and I realized how colossal of a mistake that was. I pulled away, embarrassment shooting through my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, and turned to run out of the room, when his hand clamped down on my wrist, and yanked me back to him. His mouth came down on mine, rough and desperate. I thrust my fingers into his hair, tugging on the soft strands. A slight moan escaped my lips, igniting Ryder’s raging desire. He grabbed my face, and devoured my mouth,as he backed me up against the door.

  It had been so long since I felt unbridled passion like this. I relished in every touch. Ryder broke our kiss, and trailed his tongue down my neck, stopping at the crook, sucking at the sensitive skin.

  “God, you feel so fucking good,” he growled, moving his mouth back up against my ear, swiping his tongue across my lobe.

  His fingers slipped under the strap of my dress, and he traced a line with his lips down to the swell of my breasts. My nipples hardened into tight peaks, and Ryder captured it between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the swollen bud.

  My hands ran across his hard chest, and up over his shoulders. The feel of the leather beneath my fingers shook me out of my hormone-induced haze. I pushed him off of me. “Stop. I can’t. This was a mistake.”

  Ryder reached down, adjusting his straining erection. As I watched him, a slight feeling of regret passed through me. But I had to. I left for a reason. This life, the one he chose, wasn’t the life I wanted, and he would never leave it behind.

  I pulled my strap back into place, and smoothed down my dress before making the same decision I did five years ago.

  I left.

  FIVE

  RYDER

  I went through the inventory for the twenty-second time since those parts came up missing on mine and Axel’s watch. It wasn’t adding up. All the records were aligned yet parts were gone. They didn’t just vanish into thin fucking air, so there was only one possibility: someone jacked them.

  Axel and I were the only two in the warehouse that night. It wasn’t me. I’m many things, but a thief is not one of them. The only logical answer would point to Axel. But, I refused to believe that. I didn’t trust many people, but I trusted him with my life. He wouldn’t fuck the Club or me over. The club was his whole world; he grew up in it, and there’s just no way he’d betray Pops or the rest of us like that. He was too damn loyal.

  I scanned over the parts once more, and went back to the checklist. Clicking on the concrete echoed throughout the large space. Trista was the only female allowed in this building, and, unless one of the guys discovered their love for high heels recently, I knew it was her.

  “Hey cuz,” I said, without looking away from the checklist.

  “Any luck on those parts?” she asked, coming to a stop beside me, and nodding her head to the clipboard in my hand.

  “I got shit. I don’t know what the fuck happened. I’ve re-watched the security footage a million times, trying to figure out where it was cut, but it’s seamless.”

  Trista grabbed the clipboard out of my hand. “Someone’s going to have to take responsibility for this fuck up.”

  “I know.”

  “You sure it’s not on you? With Sawyer back, we all know your head’s not…”

  “My heads fine,” I scoffed. “Only a fucking pussy would let a girl mess with his head.” And that’s exactly what I was, because ever since Sawyer stepped through the door of Raven’s Nest, I couldn’t get her off my fucking mind.

  I had hoped she was fat, or ugly, or grew an extra limb in the past five years, but she was just as hot as she always was, and, if possible, even hotter. I wanted her naked and beneath me, screaming my name as I pounded into her. And I thought that was the path we were heading down until she did what she was so good at. Walking out.

  Trista arched an eyebrow at me. “It’s not just some girl. It’s Sawyer. The love of your life who just up and left without a fucking word. The one you’ve compared every girl to since she left… and don’t even try to deny it.”

  “What do you want me to tell you? That my world turned upside down the minute she came back to town? That I can’t eat or sleep knowing that she’s only ten minutes away. Well, I’m sorry to tell you, but that’s not the case. I haven’t thought about her once.”

  “Funny. Because I heard you two got down in the backroom at Raven’s Nest yesterday.”

  I smirked. “We were just getting reacquainted.”

  “It’s fucking stupid if you ask me.” She crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips in disapproval.

  “Good thing I didn’t ask you then.”

  “I just hope you know what you’re doing,” she sighed. “Last time…she destroyed you. I just don’t want…we have too much going on for you to be preoccupied.” For a tough chick, she had her moments, and though they were few and far between, I could always tell there was a heart beneath the hard shell.

  “I’m not a naïve kid anymore. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Okay then.” She handed me back the clipboard. “There’s just one problem.”

  I raised my eyes to hers.

  Trista played with her nose ring before letting her hand fly out toward me. “There’s a rat.”

  Trista didn’t have to say anymore. I knew exactly where she was going with this. Anger swelled inside of me, and I clenched my fists to subside the rage. “It’s not Sawyer.”

  “How the hell do you know?”

  “Me and you both know that Sawyer would never—”

  “Sawyer is not the same girl that we knew. She could be a Fed.”

  “She’s not a goddamned Fed, Trista,” I growled through clenched teeth. “Just let it go.”

  She threw her hands up. “How can I? I have no fucking idea where she’s been for the past five years. For all we know, she ratted us out, and is here undercover.”

  Anger raged inside of me, and I didn’t know if it was because of Trista’s accusations, or because I myself feared they could be true. Still, I wouldn’t believe it. Sawyer would never. I stepped up to Trista, and, instead of going for the kill, I went with reason.

  “She was your best friend. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  Trista’s lip twitched, showing a crack in her wall, but she quickly recovered. “Not anymore. Like I said, I don’t even know her.”

  “I’d like to think, the girl she once was is still inside of her.” And I knew she was. I saw her. For the briefest of moments in the backroom of Raven’s Nest, I got a glimpse of Sawyer Lennox, the devoted bad girl who would do anything to protect all those she loved.

  “For her sake, I hope you’re right.”

  Trista turned, started for the door, but then stopped. “It’s going to be brought up at Church, you know.”

  Sawyer seriously couldn’t have chosen a worse time to come back to Brooks Landing. “I know.”

  “They might not be as u
nderstanding,” Trista warned.

  I nodded. “I’ll deal with them.”

  “In that case, for your sake, I hope you’re right.”

  That made two of us.

  SIX

  SAWYER

  “How are you feeling?” I asked Mom when she got out of bed the next morning. She’d been sleeping so much I dared not disturb her. She needed her rest. Uterine cancer was no joke. If she was going to get through the hysterectomy, she needed all of her strength.

  Mom kissed the top of my head, and rested her hand on my cheek. “The sun is shining. It’s a beautiful day and my niña is home. Couldn’t be better.”

  “I spoke with the doctors. They have your surgery scheduled for next Tuesday.”

  “Let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about you.” My mother, God I loved her, but she wanted nothing to do with her diagnosis. She’d rather pretend it didn’t exist than to deal with it head on. If she’d told me sooner, I would’ve been here for her.

  Instead, she thought prayer would heal her. She’d been lucky the cancer hadn’t spread while she was calling on the Lord to cure her.

  “Nothing to talk about, Mom.”

  “You haven’t been home in five years. There’s plenty to talk about.”

  I rolled my eyes at her pestering before getting up and pouring two cups of coffee. “I talked to you once a week.”

  “About New York. I want to hear about what’s going on since you’ve been here.”

  I handed Mom her mug, and took a sip from my own. “That’s easy. Nothing.”

  Mom lifted an eyebrow, and flashed her insinuating smile. “That’s not what I hear.”

  I let out an exaggerated sigh, and turned to the counter, trying to subdue my annoyance. “Goddamn it and this town of gossipers.”

  “Don’t you use the Lord’s name in vain,” she warned.

  I turned back, and Mom’s eyes shot daggers at me. That was her one rule, and even grown men who broke it would cower at that look.

  “Sorry.” I sat down at the table. “It just amazes me how some things you can’t torture out of them yet others they can’t keep their mouths shut about.”