Joyride: (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series)

by DD Prince

  “You’re a good friend,” Scooter said.

  I looked over my shoulder. I was in my kitchen. I thought he’d been in the living room.

  “Don’t know what all that was about but just thought it was worth sayin’. It’s been noticed.”

  I smiled. “I’m a good friend to Deanna, too.”

  His eyebrows quirked up.

  “And she doesn’t just have big boobs, Scott. She’s got a big heart in there, too. She’s been fucked over bad by guys. Real bad. Cheated on. Abandoned when she was giving birth. Fucked over. More than once.”

  His face went to stone. He knew where I was going with this.

  “Her two sons have been fucked over by the guys who’ve exploited Dee Dee’s big heart, too. So, just sayin’… don’t go there unless you’re not going to be screwing any of the three of them over.”

  He sucked on his teeth behind his lips and looked pissy.

  “But, just sayin…” I added, “If you do go there and it does work out, she’ll be a lucky girl. So, you’ve been warned, but… she asked what your story was. Wanted to know if you had a girlfriend. Want me to text you her number? I’ll even babysit for the first and second dates. But no overnights until the fifth date. I’ll babysit then, too.”

  His eyebrows shot back up.

  On that parting shot, I retreated to my bedroom to get into some comfy clothes. I texted Ella.

  “They say you’re okay. You really okay?”

  She replied not long later.

  “I really am. It was really icky, but nothing happened. I just need to bleach my memory. Come over tomorrow night. My parents are having a party. With BBQ. And Rummoli. It’s a ‘yay! Elizabelle didn’t get raped by her uncle and his cohorts’ party. You simply MUST come. Cue dueling banjo song from Deliverance.”

  Um…yikes.

  She’d inserted a bunch of emojis of boingy eyes and green puke-faces after her words.

  “I’m there. I’ll bring some hooch.”

  “XO”

  “XO”

  Rider showed up about ten minutes into us eating pizza.

  Scooter and I were both on the couch, watching old episodes of South Park. I hated this show, but he’d put it on while I was in the other room and I didn’t want to be a kill joy, feeling blessed about Ella and all, so I sucked it up.

  Rider walked in, waved at us without looking at us, nabbed a pizza slice from the coffee table, and went toward my bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head, then taking a bite on his way there.

  I sat there, slumped. He didn’t even look at me.

  Five minutes later, I went into my bedroom and heard the shower running. The bedroom floor was littered with his clothing and the past few days I hadn’t cared enough to complain about it.

  I glared at my rug angrily and then scooped up all of his clothes off the floor and tossed them into my half-full basket. I wandered to the kitchen with that basket and turned on a load of laundry (I had a stackable set the same as what was in my salon behind bifold doors in the kitchen).

  I turned around and there he was, getting a beer out of the fridge. He went back into the living room.

  Scooter was in the kitchen with me, his car keys in his hand. “You wanna go see Ella? I can take you.”

  I nodded profusely and grabbed my purse and slipped on a pair of shoes and just before heading out the kitchen door, I stopped.

  “Does Rider know we’re going?” I asked.

  “His idea,” Scooter replied and headed for the door.

  My heart was in my throat. Okay, how to decode this?

  Was he being sweet by letting me go see Ella after what she’d been through, or was he getting rid of me because he was back now and didn’t want to be in my presence?

  If he didn’t want to be in my presence, he didn’t have to be. He could leave me under the care of his prospects. He wasn’t taking me to see Ella, so clearly, he didn’t want to go there with me.

  But, he was using my place as a crash pad so maybe he didn’t want to be around me and was planning to go to sleep before I came back so he wouldn’t have to deal with me.

  My heart hurt. My brain hurt. I was being so stupid.

  ***

  We got to Ella’s and the whole family was in the kitchen, Ella’s family and all of Rider’s, (except Rider and Jojo. And his mother, of course) finishing up dinner. Jojo had been in to the salon a few days before to get a trim, her very first Brazilian (which was a laugh. Pippa takes great joy in the pain of a girl’s first Brazilian. I was there holding Jojo’s hand) and an eyebrow wax and she’d already headed to her friend’s place in New York. When we walked in, I caught sight of Deacon holding Ella in his arms, her head back and her eyes aimed up at her tall beautiful biker man. Stars in her eyes. Love in his eyes. I felt a stab of jealousy.

  I wedged myself into their clinch.

  “Cutting in!” I announced.

  Deacon backed off with a smile and I wrapped my arms around her.

  “Thank God you’re okay!”

  We hugged and rocked back and forth for a good few minutes. Beau ran over and got in between us and we hugged him, too.

  Ella’s Mom put on a pot of coffee. Me and Scooter sat down.

  Spencer was eyeing me. “Where’s Ride?”

  I shrugged.

  He clenched his teeth and looked at Scooter and they must’ve done some sort of badass biker non-verbal communicating thing, because Spencer gave him a nod and then got up from the table and went outside. Scooter followed, telling me he’d be out there and reminding me not to leave the house. I answered him by rolling my eyes and saying, “Duh.”

  He flexed his jaw at me and then went out to the garage.

  “How are ya, Jenna?” Deke sat down in Spencer’s empty chair (after flipping it around backwards).

  “I’m….okay.” I said. “Super relieved you guys got Ella back fast.”

  He nodded. “Things’re good then?” He asked.

  “Uh huh,” I muttered.

  “With everything?”

  “What are you asking me, Deke?”

  “You and my son? Things good there?”

  I gulped.

  He smiled. Big. Wow. That was forward of him. Rider’s dad was a looker. He was around fifty, maybe, and he had a deep Trace Adkins voice. Deacon looked a lot like him, but Rider definitely had his smile.

  I pulled my lips in and felt my shoulders rise as I sort of tried to shrink within myself.

  “Just between you and I, he’s not a pro at this relationship stuff, so cut him a bit of slack, okay? For the record, I think he wants to be.”

  I guess word had traveled that things weren’t going so well with me and Rider.

  “It’s not him,” I whispered. “It’s me. I think he’s way better at it than I am. And I have no excuse as I’ve been in relationships before.”

  Where was my filter? I broke up with Rider, Rider was ignoring my breaking up with him, and here I was, acting sorry for my fighting to stay broken up.

  Deke looked as surprised as I was.

  “Then why are you here, not with him wherever he ‘s at, makin’ it up to him?”

  I blinked a couple times.

  He gave me a warm smile and then booped my nose and walked out toward the garage calling out, “Wanna go for a smoke, Deke? Why, don’t mind if I do.”

  “Rob’ll join ya,” Ella’s dad Rob comically chimed in and followed Deke out.

  Ella and Deacon were all cozy and googly-eyed by the kitchen counter, so I looked to Scott, who was coming back and eyeing the cheesecake on the table.

  “Can we go?” I asked quietly.

  “I’ll get you a slice to go, Scoot,” Ella said.

  I got up and headed for the door. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

  “Thanks for comin’ over. See you tomorrow night for barbeque and Rummoli. Right?”

  “Right. I wouldn’t miss your ‘Not raped by your uncle’ celebration.”

  Deacon’s back went straight, and
he did a double-take.

  “Ella named it, big guy, not me.” I waved my hands defensively.

  He looked down at her. “Not fuckin’ funny, Kitten.”

  Ella blushed but rolled her eyes.

  I hugged her. Deacon hugged me, and I waved at the garage as we stepped out into the driveway. Rob, Bertie, Deke, Spence, and Spence’s dog were out there. I got waves and a wagging tail.

  Scooter got into his car, I got into the passenger side, and we pulled out, just as my mother was pulling in.

  Eeks.

  I hoped she didn’t see me. It was dark, and I wasn’t in my car, it was Scooter’s Hyundai Accent.

  He drove us back to my place. In silence, because my mind was on my troubles, which were not few. Beyond all the Rider stuff, I’d eventually have to face Karen Murdoch. Ugh.

  ***

  When I got home, there was no sign of Rider’s motorcycle or his car. It had been his Harley here when we’d left. I into the apartment, all the lights were out. No note. Nothing.

  I flipped the laundry over from the washer to the dryer, put on another load, then put the pizza away. I said goodnight to Scooter, who was lounging, eating cheesecake. I went to bed, thinking about getting myself my planned two cats. Someone to love and cuddle with.

  I closed my eyes and it took ages for sleep to find me.

  Rider didn’t come back that night. At all.

  21

  Okay, so where should I put his clean laundry?

  After way too long debating it, I settled for a neat pile on top of my dresser.

  It was time to head out to the Forker family game night slash ‘thank goodness Ella was not-raped-by-her-uncle’ celebration.

  I’d already closed the salon and was with Pudge, the tall ginger biker with the long beard that was standing sentry after the Paige scene.

  Pudge wasn’t pudgy. He was super slim, so I guessed the nickname was sarcasm. Pudge was also a definite felon who had no qualms about using a gun. When we got into the apartment after he walked me up from the salon, he’d put a big-ass knife and two guns on my coffee table before putting his boots on the table and sitting back with my remote.

  I didn’t bother telling him to get his boots off my table, like I’d have told Scooter, Bronto, or even Bad Ass Jesse. Pudge could keep his boots on my table if he wanted to.

  He was a man of few words, but he’d told me he’d moved here from Bismarck a week and a half before to help take down those “Lowlife ass wipe jack wagons”.

  He said he’d been in the Doms for eight years, since he got out of ‘state’ and I knew ‘state’ didn’t refer to state college; it referred to the state prison. He was a definite badass, had all sorts of mean tattoos, but he was good protector material. I felt safe. I wished he’d been there when Bronto got shot in the ass. I doubted Ella would’ve gotten taken from Pudge.

  Then again, maybe they would’ve shot to kill instead of to maim if it hadn’t been a prospect there that day.

  He’d only brought his motorcycle, though, and I was apparently not allowed to ride on the back of a bike that wasn’t my ‘old man’s’, so he drove my car and we went to Ella’s.

  I didn’t want to take my car. I didn’t want my mother to see it parked at Ella’s. And I couldn’t talk Pudge into parking down the street, so she wouldn’t see it. I tried to explain that I was hiding from my mother and he looked at me like I was loony tunes.

  I gave up the argument and went inside, seeing a houseful in the Forker kitchen. All the extension leaves were in the table, taking it from being big enough to seat a dozen to making room for another half a dozen. There were at least fifteen chairs around it. Several were lawn chairs brought in from the garage. The Rummoli board was in the middle.

  I had a tote bag with my Rummoli jar of pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters, and saw three other jars on the table. The kitchen counter was set up with a cheese and cracker tray, a bowl of chips, Ella’s nacho dip, Rob’s crab dip, a big crock pot that looked to be filled with pulled pork, two big bags of buns, and two foil-covered cookie sheets lined up with toasted submarine sandwiches cut into thirds, that looked and smelled like Ella’s meatball subs (which rocked).

  Pudge immediately went to the food. I sat down between Ella’s Dad’s friend Jase and Spencer. People wandered in from the garage and elsewhere in the house and Ella came over and hugged me and then sat on the other side of Spencer, her big jar of change in front of her. And then the rest of the group filed in from the garage, last of which was Rider. He sat across the table from me and his eyes landed on me.

  My heart hurt at the stone-cold look on his face. I wanted to flee.

  But, I couldn’t. People bought change from my jar to gamble with, including Rider, as Ella’s and her mom’s jars were much lighter than usual, and then Ella explained the rules of the game to the Valentines and ended with,

  “Let the betting begin!”

  The mood was jovial, other than Rider and me. Most of us played, but Rob’s friends watched, coming in and out of the garage, bouncing between watching us, and congregating around the food-filled counter. We played a few hands, and then I won a big hand and my mood shifted and I did a little happy chair-dance over my healthy-looking pile of pennies and nickels, which was probably less than $2, but it was the win itself, not the size of the win. I’d been playing this game almost monthly since I was a kid, so I took Rummoli seriously.

  The next hand, after my $2ish win, I had a full house: two fives and three threes, so I started betting.

  Everyone playing (there were eight of us) passed, except for Deke, who raised me. Rider raised him. I raised it. Deke opted out. Rider raised it again. I raised it again, with a death-challenge in my eyes.

  Finally, he threw a set of keys on the center of the board.

  I stared at them, confused.

  “My Harley.”

  “Your Harley? Over a card game?” I was astounded.

  This wasn’t about the card game. But it was a stupid bet. And the room knew. They were all watching The Jenna and Rider Show with avid fascination.

  “Yeah,” he bit off.

  “I don’t have a Harley to bet with,” I snapped, my voice filled with venom.

  Why was he being so ridiculous?

  “I got an idea.” He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocked and typed something. My ass binged. I reached for my phone and pulled it out.

  “You win, you get my Harley. I win, you give me control tonight. One night. My rules.”

  I put my phone face down on the table and glared at him.

  He was waiting. His eyes were ablaze with anger. The room was waiting.

  “No fair,” Ella pouted. “Secret bets are not fair.”

  “I can imagine what it says,” Spencer shrugged.

  “Jenna will tell me later.” Ella said, resigned.

  I shook my head. “Fold.” My shoulders slumped.

  “Chicken shit,” Rider said, his eyes still angry.

  My anger returned, and I glared.

  “There she goes again, writing checks she has no intention of cashin’…” Rider mused, being an absolute prick about it.

  “No. Cancel my fold. Call,” I said, angrily and dropped my cards on the table, face up.

  He gave me an evil smile and then dropped his cards.

  Shit. Shit. Damn. Straight flush.

  Damn. No.

  Spencer hissed. “Ooooh. What’d he win?”

  Spencer tried to grab my phone. I grabbed it first, and shoved it in my pocket, my face going red.

  “Let’s break for food,” Deacon suggested. “One of those meatball sandwiches is callin’ my name.” He moved to the counter.

  Rider scooped up his big pile of winnings and kept it in front of him and gave me a look of promise.

  “Need a drink, Rider?” Ella asked.

  “I’ll get one, thanks, Ella,” he said to her, but his eyes were still on me and flirty and … holy shit, I had to cross my legs. My body reacted in a way that…
I was tempted to drag him out of here.

  But, then his expression changed, and it was cold and angry, and a bucket of ice water was thrown on my libido.

  Was I going to be treated to an actual hate fuck?

  A real one? How bad would it be?

  I felt sick.

  “Gettin’ some food, Jennabean?” Rob asked.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Made my famous chili and my pulled pork.” He gestured toward the kitchen counter and I noticed Pudge ladling out a big bowl of chili from another crockpot I hadn’t clocked yet.

  Pudge hadn’t been playing cards. He hadn’t even gone out to the smoking area with the others when they’d gone. He’d been grazing at the counter the whole time. I was getting a good idea of why he was nicknamed Pudge. Maybe he should’ve been nicknamed Tapeworm. I didn’t verbalize that thought. I moved to the food and made up a plate with a tiny bit of everything so that no feelings would be hurt.

  Rider was beside me.

  “Got you a drink. Come sit,” Ella said to me, walking by with two cans of Pepsi and one can of Coke in her arms.

  “Fuel up, Starlet,” he whispered in my ear, leaning over me to grab a napkin. “You’re gonna be burnin’ a lotta calories tonight.”

  My blood went hot. My face went red.

  I moved away from him and went to the living room and sat on the couch beside Ella, who had Deacon on the other side.

  Ella gave me a big-eyed look. “I think you’re in trouble, sister…”

  I gave her big eyes back and then rolled my eyes as if it was no biggie.

  But, shit. I had no appetite. None.

  ***

  After the game finally ended, Ella’s mom Bertie the winner, I couldn’t find Pudge. I was in the garage, peering at the driveway. My car was gone.

  I felt a bit panicky.

  “Let’s go,” Rider said to me under his breath, on his way past me as he headed outside.

  My panic levels escalated. I stood there, feeling like I was under a cloud of impending doom.

  “G’night Pinkie,” Deke gave me a quick hug.

  I must’ve had horror all over my face.

  Spencer was in my space, giving me a hug and whispering, “Have a good night, payin’ your debts.”

  I laughed nervously and tried to play it off like it was no big deal, but I felt like my knees were knocking together when I headed down the driveway after saying bye to everyone.