Ride or Die (Devil's Edge MC #1)

by Terri E. Laine

  “Vete a la mierda, gilipollas,” he yelled into the silence.

  Calling out fuck you seemed like the best way to let an assailant know exactly where you were, she thought. To him, she bet it was a show of pride not to hide.

  Something hit the outside wall just behind him. He did what instinct dictated and checking the wall behind him. As if on cue, an imposing figure of a man entered the room. It was so surreal in her head, time seemed to slow. The second the leader turned back to find they were no longer alone in the room, it was too late. He knew it too. His lips had formed an O a moment before a small hole appeared dead center between his eyes.

  The leader had gotten off a shot. But it had gone wide as his head kicked back as his body fell backward. Then there was true silence.

  Ender watched as the man’s twitching body stilled before he turned eyes on her. Her body trembled like a school girl. And when had she been that innocent? Before Taylor maybe. Even then, she hadn’t been a typical run and scream when shit happened kind of girl.

  Just as she thought he might free her, he moved toward the leader’s body. She jerked in her restraints as undiluted rage covered Ender’s face. His shit kicking boot landed a viscous blow to the dead man’s ribs over and over.

  If she didn’t know any better she would have believed he’d done that for her. He’d seen something on her face, maybe a bruise from the hits she’d taken.

  Ender wanted to destroy the man before him. He literally had to take two deep breathes to stop himself from breaking the broken dead man. He talked himself down, knowing that there was no more pain he could inflict on someone no longer a part of this world.

  Slowly, he turned and stalked toward her.

  She didn’t flinch as he prowled in her direction. It was only a few steps before he was tenderly stroking her cheek.

  “Eric,” she said with no more volume than the air escaping her lungs.

  He didn’t waste time. Hooking a hand around her, he pulled her close and leaned in for a heated kiss.

  His other hand didn’t land in her hair to her disappointment. Instead, she felt him free her from her hanging prison. He pulled back, letting her arms gently fall bound in front of her. Their eyes locked and so many words were spoken, yet not said aloud.

  More of a surprise to her, Jack rushed in the room. Immediately, he released the chains from her wrists with a set of keys he must have found.

  “Keep that,” Ender commanded. “It will have her prints on it. Did you touch anything else, your highness?”

  Back was his demanding tone. All the softness she’d felt from him seconds ago had vanished. In answer, she shook her head. She’d been wearing gloves when she’d shot the gun. She had no idea what happened to them.

  “Spider, get the body from the back and lay it in the doorway.”

  Something she never would have thought of since she was a from a distance killer. Ender and Spider began to set the stage to confuse any investigators as to what had happened.

  After Spider brought the body, Ender came over with the gun he’d used and put it in that man’s hand. Then using the guy’s hand, he squeezed the trigger in the direction of the dead leader.

  “It isn’t perfect,” Ender said. “But hopefully they will assume that the gang turned on itself.”

  “Shouldn’t we just torch the place?” Spider asked.

  Ender shook his head. “That would lead to more questions. Arson investigators would come in and detectives would start looking at trajectories and caliber of gun. They would assume someone walked away and tried to hide evidence.”

  “And this way?” Spider asked, like a curious student.

  “This way, we can hope the laziness of law enforcement will have them close the book on gang violence. With no innocents about, they might not look deeper and realize that he”—he pointed to Vélez, the man she’d killed—“wasn’t shot with a pistol and not by him.”

  Silently they finished staging as best as they could so it appeared they took themselves out in some kind of civil war.

  “Are you sure you didn’t touch anything?” Ender asked Piper again.

  “I had on gloves and they hit me right before we entered. I woke up hanging there and my gloves were gone.”

  “Are your prints on file?”

  She shook her head. The organization would have cleaned out her records.

  “Okay, let’s go then.”

  As they left the room, she took in the carnage. She did know who had killed who, but she would bet Ender had done most of the work. Neither had been covered in blood splatter, but Ender did have some. Jack looked clean.

  She didn’t bother with questions, and Ender didn’t bother with answers.

  They ran the way they’d come, up a path to the bluff, across open land and down to where Taylor’s bike had been hidden by her. She made a move to get the bike, but Spider and Ender did the job. Spider took the blanket that had covered it and with rapid speed began to fold it up. Ender rolled the bike toward the road. Then they were on the move.

  Around the bend and down a ways, they found the two bikes the brotherhood had stashed for them.

  “I don’t think anyone saw us. This is a dead end road that leads to this old weather station. Are you okay to ride?”

  She thought about it for a second. Her mind was clear at the moment. She wouldn’t crash yet, not until she was safely away from there at least. “I’m fine.”

  “Good. Piper, you follow me.”

  They mounted and were soon underway. They traveled at breakneck speeds until they reached a mildly trafficked intersection. They made a left and rode for a while before splitting off. Spider probably headed home, and they ended up back at Ender’s place after what Piper could only describe as a roundabout way to get there. No doubt he wanted to make sure they weren’t followed. Even if no one was on the road, it didn’t mean that men hadn’t been stationed in a secluded spot to see if all left at the same time.

  Parking next to Ender’s car, they got off and headed inside. Only Ender stopped Piper just inside the door.

  39

  “Are you hurt?” he demanded.

  Seeing her bloodied and bruised had almost broken him. He’d learned long ago how to school his features when his emotions got the best of him. It seemed he had no ounce of control when it came to her.

  “You saved me,” she said.

  Her words were but mere whispers on the edge of a choking sound as she contemplated how close she’d come to death. Those guys hadn’t been foolish wannabes like the three dumbees from Ender’s charter. They’d been the real deal and she allowed herself the knowledge that she was grateful Ender hadn’t headed her words days ago that she could take care of herself. Tucked safely in his house, she allowed herself the girlish weakness of being grateful for his rescue.

  “Always.” He tucked strands of hair behind her ear, needing to make sure she was okay. His lips brushed over hers once, then twice before his probing fingers happened upon a spot that made her wince. “Where else are you hurt?” he growled, pulling back.

  Touching spots on her head and her face as if testing them, she said, “Better than expected.”

  His next move was to clutch her hand and drag her toward the hallway that led to his bedroom.

  Realization had her calling out, “What? Wait? Where are you taking me?”

  They passed his door and opened another. Into a galley styled bathroom with fixtures out of the ’70s, a dusty pink sink and tub came into view.

  Even though the house had sounded empty to her, Ender closed them inside. As she turned to face him, he started peeling her out of her clothes.

  She slapped his hands away. “What are you doing?”

  He let out a throaty breath that rumbled like thunder. “I need to check to see that you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine, you big oaf.”

  She hadn’t meant anything by the name. The worry beneath his gruff demeanor was clear enough for her to see. Plus, she was curious her
self if they’d been rough with her while she was out. Not that she thought she’d been raped. She’d dodged that bullet. Though she couldn’t be sure they hadn’t tossed her about before they hung her up like a slab of meat. She was numb enough not to truly feel all her aches and pains.

  Her hands shook as she tried to do it herself. He swiped her hands away, holding her glare until she closed her eyes, relenting to his touch. The vest went first, then her shirt and pants until she stood before him in her sports bra and boy shorts. His hands moved about her as much as his eyes. He turned her around for inspection for a few minutes and back to face him.

  “I could ask you why you were there, but we both know why. So I’ll ask, is this a clusterfuck that will come back to bite you?”

  That was a thought she hadn’t considered. Working for the organization as a hired gun, she’d almost felt untouchable. But having him ask, answered several questions. He cared.

  “If they investigate and start asking questions, maybe. But the job was done and they got more than they bargained for.”

  He nodded and something in his chest expanded. Gently, he leaned in and he kissed her more tenderly than she thought possible. His touch somehow solidified more than words could ever say.

  She shifted on her feet, not used to tenderness from him. He must’ve sensed it too because she felt herself being lifted before crashing into the wall behind her. All pretense of gentleness was gone. Greedy fingers found her wet center. She moaned, throwing her head back, exposing her neck. His mouth was there, taking advantage of a primordial need that began to consume him.

  Drawing his hand away, he fumbled with his pants, anxious to get them off so he could be inside her. He gave her no warning before plunging into her silky depths. Only cries of pleasure left her lips, which was more reassuring to him. His claiming thrust had her nails clawing at his back. She wanted more, oh so much more. Fear of him slipping away had her hanging on for dear life.

  Never in her life had she come without assistance, from a warm mouth, tongue, finger or vibrator touching her clit. He, however, had the magic touch, or was that thrust? She exploded into a bazillion stars just from him filling her on the inside.

  Unfortunately for her, he pulled out and set her on her feet.

  “I want you on my bed, naked,” he growled.

  He took her hand in his and led her out the door after he half tucked himself back into his pants. They didn’t enter the room he had designated for her to use before. Instead, they entered what had to be his room. The one with the sign enter at your own risk.

  She was surprised to find it wasn’t at all like the bathroom. There wasn’t hideous wallpaper from when the house was built. Instead, it was painted a neutral color with a large king-sized bed dominating the middle, plus one solid looking dresser with no mirror and a night table on one side of the bed. Topping it off, the room was neat. Not one thing was out of place.

  Before she could take in much more, he marched her backward until she found herself tumbling toward the mattress. Hungrily, he took her in. That had been the moment he’d been waiting for.

  “Take off the sports bra unless you want it destroyed.”

  He enjoyed their cat and mouse game maybe more than she had. So when she scurried backward on her elbows, he placed one knee in between hers, dipping the bed. Capturing her ankles, he slid her back to him.

  Their eyes were locked. Neither would bend. However, he’d learned her weakness. Slowly, he tilted his head side to side as if giving her a moment to think about her decision.

  “Unless you want to walk out of this room naked, I suggest you remove this”—he pointed to her bra—“and this.” He pointed to her underwear.

  She wasn’t shy. But his words long ago about liking smaller breasts had her hesitating. She was a big girl when it came to her chest. They made her look like a porn star unless she kept them constrained in a sports bra. Though he’d seen the girls before, something about that moment was different. Fuck it, she thought.

  Hooking thumbs under the elastic, she freed the beasts. He watched as they jiggled before settling. Testing their weight with his hands, he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, making them rise and bead up.

  He leaned in and sucked in one. Her head rolled and fell back on her shoulders. Slipping his hand under the waistband of her boy shorts, he found her creamy center.

  “Still wet for me,” he said. “My greedy little girl.”

  Done with his games, she said, “Stop talking and fuck me.”

  Fisting his hands, her boy shorts succumbed to his strength, tearing from her body. He pushed the sides of her legs wide. He shucked off his jeans, freeing his cock and taking in his hand.

  She licked her lips in anticipation. Still hiked up on her arms, she continued to watch him slide that big hand of his up and down the long, hard thickness of him. It stood proud with the word harder spelled out to mock her.

  “What to do with you?” he said, sucking in a breath. “You seem to think you have some power here.”

  “What do you want me to do, call you Sir?” she jested.

  Slowly, a smile curled his lips in the way the Joker’s did in the last Batman movie. “That would be a start.”

  Rolling over, she was prepared to walk out of the room to teach him a lesson. Only he had other plans. Quick as lightning, he got one hand under her belly and lifted her ass up to the perfect height. He slammed into her so fast she choked on an exhale of breath.

  She had no choice but to lift up on all fours to gain her balance as he pounded into her. Each thrust sent a thrill into them both. She tried to muffle each squeal and moan of the pleasure that mounted by pressing her face in the mattress. He countered by squeezing a breast and tweaking her nipple, thrusting her closer to the edge.

  Slapping noises of their bodies connecting only heighted his arousal. Rotating his hips, her back bowed, which let him know which spot to concentrate on.

  Her pussy was so goddamn tight he had to spread her cheeks to make more room for his dick. He liked watching his cock disappear in her sweet cunt so much he was on the verge of coming. And that was unfortunate. He wanted this to go on much longer. Sliding his hand down her body, he found the hard bundle of nerves that would have her shooting off like a bottle rocket. He circled it, feeling his balls draw tight. He hadn’t used a condom, a first for him. Too late to be rectified, if he got her pregnant, maybe he would just wife her.

  Pressing down on her firing piston, they both exploded in an ecstasy neither had experienced before. Her cry eclipsed his groan as he poured his seed inside her with a few more thrusts before he collapsed on top of her. When he finally rolled halfway off her, he tugged her close, nuzzling her hair at the crook of her neck.

  They spoke not a word, both unsure where things were going. He’d never wanted another woman to lie with him after the deed was done. He’d indulge Lyla when she’d curl around his supine form. What he felt now was a world different. Seeing her hurt today had made him face how precious little time they could have together. She would run. He knew it, which made him hold on tighter.

  40

  Her emotions were a swirl of colors, happy ones like yellows and oranges and darker ones like grays and blacks.

  How could a man make her feel so much in so little time? No, it wasn’t love, but damn if it wasn’t somewhere close to a prelude to it. It was different too than what she’d felt for Brian, which had been respect and attraction. They had been bonded by war, not love.

  In Ender’s arms, she felt safe, like she didn’t have to sleep with one eye open for the first time in forever. That scared her. She couldn’t allow herself to fall into that trap again. Twice was enough and both times, she’d had her heart broken.

  She turned in his arms to face him. “I’m going back to New York tomorrow.”

  “I know,” he said gruffly.

  As stupid as it was, his acceptance of it had the back of her eyes burn with emotions. She tamped down the dumb feelings and snuggled c
lose to him. She memorized the feel of him at her back for future reference and closed her eyes to willingly let darkness consume her.

  Before she fell asleep, she asked him the burning question. “Who’s Mandy?”

  He sighed, knowing she wouldn’t let this go.

  “She was a few years younger than me and the first friend I had when I moved to Dad’s. I didn’t understand then that the men saw themselves as more than cowboys and women as less than chattel. Still, she and I remained friends for years until told me she loved me. I hadn’t been sure then what love was but figured what I felt for her was the same.

  Three years younger than me though, I respected her enough and refused to let anything happen between us. She hated me for that.” He closed his eyes wondering if he could have done anything different to change the outcome. “Her jealousy had her refusing to go with me when I left for good. But she was mine and I despite her anger I promised her I’d be back when she turned eighteen and we could be together. Foolishly, I thought staking a claim on her before I left and promising retribution to any man that dared touch her would keep her safe. And it did for a time. I found a way to talk to her time to time to make sure.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Only, she’d only been seventeen when I got the call. I drove like a madman through the night to find her…” He shook his head, pushing the memory of her broken body out of his mind. “I would have killed everyone there if I didn’t have to get her away and to safety. She’d been raped and beaten, but unfortunately alive to relive it every night. I brought her back to California and held her while she slept fighting her demons away because when she was awake she couldn’t bear to be touched. But I couldn’t save her.”

  “What happened?”

  “I got called away on club business. One of the old ladies was supposed to watch her…” He trailed off. “She’d wanted a bath. And that’s where they found her in a pool of her own blood.”

  “I’m sorry,” Piper said, with her head resting on his chest.