Ryker

by Nikki Ryker

Calamity's laugh booms through the front room, making me jump. It's an oddly joyful sound that is incredibly at odds with our current situation.

  "You have brass balls, I'll give you that. You won't make it even a foot before you're pumped full of lead. I commend your bravery though."

  I couldn't help but stare at Calamity's profile, trying to puzzle him out. He was unusually well-spoken and educated. Most of his men looked like high school dropouts with thought for anything but fighting and fucking. Does he purposely surround himself with imbeciles? Surely he's smarter than that.

  "So, what do you say?" I ask.

  Calamity is silent for an unnerving amount of time. Just when I think he's decided to kill us, he gestures lazily to Axel.

  "Show them to a room. McNeil will doubtless be patrolling tonight. Their best bet is to pass the line in the morning."

  A murmur of outrage runs through the assembled crowd. Calamity cuts through it with a glare, staring at each man until they quiet to a grumble. It's like nothing I've ever seen. Calamity Gardel is less man than he is a force of nature. Even the muscled thugs he commands don't dare cross him.

  "Don't think this is free," Calamity says, addressing Ryker. "You'll be paying me back for this."

  "Oh I'll pay you back," Ryker mutters.

  Calamity chuckled again. "Don't forget that I'm letting you and your woman live, Ryker. Try my patience and I'll start breaking things. Starting with her fingers."

  "You won't lay a fucking hand on her."

  "Ryker," I hiss, placing a restraining hand on his bicep. He has to see reason. This is our only chance. "Please."

  He glances down at me, barely repressed fury blazing in his eyes. I urge him silently to stop, to see sense. And slowly, he does. His body relaxes bit by bit as he stares down at me and he lifts a hand to clutch mine.

  "What is your price?" he asks finally.

  "Remove Trent McNeil from power."

  "Done. I'd do that part for free. He's a fucking dead man."

  Gardel raises an eyebrow. "I'm not finished. There is the matter of the debt you owe."

  "Debt?" I echo. "What debt?"

  "You both owe me your lives. I expect two favors in return. To be collected whenever I ask, as soon as I ask."

  Ryker looks as though he'd rather eat glass than capitulate, but he nods, flexing his jaw so hard that I'm afraid he'll break his teeth.

  Gardel nods in return and then gestures for Axel to take us away. The moment he's dismissed us, he returns his attention to the stunning redhead crouching by his throne. She kneels before him and I look away as she undoes his fly. I don't want to see. I've had enough of Gardel for one day, and what I've already seen has terrified me. No need to watch him gag a hooker. I'm sure he's endowed, or he'd never whip it out in front of so many men. It's just another gesture of his power.

  We're led to a sparse room. There's little in here but a bed and a lamp fixed to the wall. The sheets are rumpled and there's a questionable smell in the air. I suspect that this is the temporary abode of one or two working girls. It doesn't matter. I'll take it.

  Ryker rounds on me the second the door latches behind us. The scrape of the key in a lock tells me we're prisoners until morning.

  He gets a grip on me and almost shakes me in his frustration. I try not to be too alarmed. Ryker has proved he's not Damian. But a hint of fear still slips into my belly.

  "What the hell was that back there?"

  "Negotiation. You should try it some time."

  "I could have taken Gardel, Cleo."

  I lock my hands around his biceps. I move my lips to his throat, where the tendons stand out in tense, rigid lines. He lets out a groan when I lick a path along his throat to his ear, rolling the lobe between my teeth much as he'd done to me.

  "Don't lie to me, Ryker," I breathe. "You and I both know that fighting was hopeless. He's right. You wouldn't have made it even a foot. And then that would have left me with him. Do you want that?"

  A growl is his only response, and he fists a hand in my hair, tilting my head up so he can press a searing kiss to my mouth.

  "You're mine."

  "All yours," I agree. "Now prove it."

  14

  Ryker

  I'm being too rough with her. My hands reach for her shirt and I want to wrench it open, popping the buttons so that I can bare her to my questing mouth. I'm more cautious than this and I know full well that Cleo isn't going to respond well if I crush her. Too much like Damian. I never want her to feel trapped or cowed while in my presence.

  But it's impossible to keep my hands off. I need to feel her, vital and alive beneath me. I need to make it fucking clear to any of the King bastards with ideas who the fuck Cleo belongs to. It's primal, animalistic, and probably a little sexist, but I don't care.

  Cleo doesn't whimper or pull back as I expect, arching her back when I place a sharp nip on her clavicle.

  I'm still floored that this is happening at all. Had it really only been yesterday? It seems impossible that I've fucked Cleo twice in twenty-four hours and am about to do it again. Never in my darkest of fantasies would I have imagined Cleo with me. Especially not here, locked into a shabby little room in Gardel's fortress.

  Cleo stops me when I try to shimmy the skirt down her hips. "Wait."

  "Can't fucking wait," I moan. "I need to be inside you."

  She gives me a shy smile and shrugs off her shirt, exposing the swell of her breasts. She's flushed with desire already, and the rose undertone beneath her tawny skin is so fucking beautiful that I could groan again.

  "You will be inside me."

  Then she drops to her knees, hands finding the button on my pants. I realize what she's trying to do as she peels them away from my hips, exposing my throbbing cock to the air.

  "Cleo, you don't have to--"

  But I cut off with another moan as Cleo wraps one of her soft hands around my shaft, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. As I stare down at her, she gives the head a tentative lick that sends pleasure in a wave up my back. When she wraps the warm heat of her mouth around the head I buck into her, unable to help myself. She feels like fucking heaven. I have a new definition of beauty as I watch her glossed lips slide down my shaft and back up, never taking it from her mouth.

  I pull away just as I feel like I'm going to spill inside of her. As good as it would feel to cum inside her mouth, I'm not through. I won't let this be the extent of what we do tonight. I back away just enough to draw out of her and seize her by the shoulders, hauling her up. Her mouth is still open in a lush 'o'. I hike her up onto my hips, bracing her back against the wall and enter her in one smooth movement.

  Her back arches and she cries out, anchoring herself to me, digging her nails into my back in a sweet, searing slash of pleasure. I'm sure the cuts will hurt like a son of a bitch later, but for now, I can't find it in myself to care. I pound into her, burying my face in her neck to inhale as much of the cinnamon scent as possible. Her hair is a soft wave against my face.

  She rolls her hips desperately against mine, meeting each thrust, taking me deeper. It's not long before her back bows and she lets out a soft cry. Her muscles clench around me, pulling me even deeper. We come together, and I groan her name against her throat.

  "I love you," I whisper into her ear.

  "And I love you," she says, tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm sorry that I didn't see it for so long."

  Better late than never. At least she was here. At least she was mine.

  I carry her to the bed, depositing her onto the thin mattress. We huddle together in a sweaty pile, breathing hard. Eventually she curls into me, curving her small body into my side. My dick, half-hard presses against her ass. She smiles lazily.

  "You never quit, do you?"

  "With you? No."

  I drape a blanket over us both and slide the pillow beneath her head. "Get some sleep."

  "It's still morning," she argues.

  "We have plenty of ways to pass the tim
e. After rest up."

  She murmurs sleepy ascent and minutes later, her breathing evens out. I'm not far behind her, sliding into sleep, despite our location. Sleeping in the beast’s belly turns out to be easier than one might think.

  I half-expect Calamity Gardel to cross us, revoking his promise come morning. But after kicking me awake after the third time I'd fucked Cleo, he shows us to the door, reminding us with grim finality that we owe him a debt.

  The thought of owing him anything makes me queasy. He could call upon me to do many reprehensible acts. What if he wants Cruz dead? What if he wants me to betray my friends?

  I decide that I'll deal with whatever it is when the time comes. It was the only way to save Cleo.

  I'm especially cautious returning to my home. I'm expecting Trent to be waiting for us, thugs still at hand. But the only vehicle I see in the drive besides my car is Cruz's silver Eagle. I belatedly realize that we've left Bryan in their care for two straight days. I lost my phone in the chase through King territory, so they didn't have a way to contact us. They must be frantic.

  I've just secured my bike when the front door of my house bangs open and Holly comes flying out in a tangle of long, pale limbs. She's practically tripping down the stairs to get to us. She's rumpled and panicked, but even I can admit she's beautiful. Not my type, but perfect for Cruz, who always liked his women a little less curvy than mine.

  I'm not sure what we look like to her, but she stops dead in her tracks, staring at us. Cruz stands in the doorway, cradling a squalling Bryan in his arms. He looks pissed. I can't say I blame him.

  "What happened to you?" Holly demands. "You look like you've been tackled by a bear."

  "Not a bear. Trent McNeil. And then later by Calamity Gardel."

  Her eyes bug and even Cruz goes pale beneath the ever-present gold cast to his skin. His eyes dart around the lawn, as if we might already be under attack. I scan the terrain, but as I suspected earlier, it's empty.

  "Get inside," Cruz orders. "We'll talk about it there. I don't want this happening out in the open."

  I wait for Cleo to clamber off the bike. She's limping, and I can't tell if it’s from her injury or the vigorous sex we had the night before. When I dismount I'm already at her side, drawing her beneath my shoulder and keeping her facing away from the road. If anyone's going to be hit, it'll be me.

  I don't relax until the door clicks shut behind us. Cruz hands Bryan off to Holly, who soothes the fussing baby with a soft, crooning lullaby. His dark eyes bore holes in mine.

  "Now explain everything."

  15

  Cleo

  I don't stop shaking until Holly leads me to the couch and pushes a glass of whiskey into my hand. It's not my preferred drink, but right now anything that takes the edge off the clawing panic is good enough. I tip back the glass and swallow most of its contents in one pull. It looks like Bryan will have to make do with formula for at least one night.

  "What happened?" Holly echoes Cruz's statement, and even her voice shakes a little. I know things are bad when Cruz and Holly look worried. I've never seen a more stubborn and brave pair in my life.

  "Trent set up an ambush for Cleo when she tried to get to court yesterday morning. At least ten men, Trent and Brenda, and all of them were armed and set to kill. I was following at a distance, just in case and I broke their line just long enough to get her on my bike."

  "And where does Calamity Gardel come into this?" Cruz sounds furious and I can't blame him one bit. There's only two ways we could have tangled with Gardel. Either he crossed the line into Spade territory, or we'd crossed into theirs, in which case Gardel had every right to come after all members of our MC, not just the interlopers.

  "It was the only way," Ryker says. "The only way that I could keep them away from Cleo and Bryan."

  "Fuck, Ryker!" Cruz shoves two hands into his dark, tousled hair and looks as though he's ready to pull it out by the roots. "What the hell were you thinking, crossing into King territory? You've made the situation a thousand times worse. We didn't need this on top of everything else!"

  "Everything else?" I ask, fearing the answer. "You mean there's still worse news?"

  Cruz heaves a sigh and sits, stiff-backed in one of Ryker's armchairs, facing us. There's a resigned set to his shoulders, and a weary sadness in his eyes.

  "Yes. Much, much worse."

  Cruz takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "The Spades are on the verge of civil war. There's a faction of men following Trent that want the rules to change. They want to demand percentages from the working girls, and use violence if they don't fall into line. And they want to make more than the casino and our various establishments allow."

  "You mean they want to bring drugs into our territory," Ryker finishes grimly. "I can't imagine Holly or Penny will take that lying down."

  I wince. Cruz's sister Penny was addicted to Oxy for a while after she'd torn her ACL. Holly's history with drugs is even worse. Born to a heroin addict and an alcoholic, she's pretty much devoted her life to helping those who want to get sober.

  Cruz grimaces. "They're not. And I'm backing them. I just can't see this ending well. They're already threatening to break away from the MC and start one of their own. The Hellions is the name they're throwing around, I think."

  "Sounds like a pro wrestler," I snort.

  Cruz's lips twitch, but he didn't smile. "It won't be so funny if it happens."

  I sober at once. The alcohol has softened the edges of my panic, but it hasn't doused it. I nod numbly and stare down at my empty glass.

  Cruz pivots in his seat to look Ryker full in the face. "Now tell me how the hell you got out of their territory alive. When Benny strayed even an inch into King territory he was shot on the spot."

  "It was Cleo," Ryker admits, giving me a sidelong look that is equal parts frustration and admiration. "If she hadn't been there to talk everyone down, I'm sure that I'd have gotten shot. She got us an audience with Gardel, and then negotiated for our safe return. She'd make a hell of an ambassador if there's ever a chance in hell we reconcile with the Kings."

  And maybe hell would freeze over. But none of us say it out loud.

  "Dare I ask what you promised him?" Cruz says with a sigh.

  I open my mouth to speak, but Ryker cuts me off.

  "He wants Trent out of the way. He thinks that if there's a power vacuum he can take advantage. Maybe he's right. But I'm not going to renege on my promise. Trent has to go, Cruz. I don't care how it affects the internal politics. I'm not letting him hurt Cleo again. Brenda stuck her in the leg. And we barely escaped with our lives yesterday. I'm not taking it lying down."

  "Ryker--"

  "What would you do if it were Holly?" Ryker counters before he can finish.

  Cruz's face hardens and his lips turn down in a scowl. Ryker has made his point and I can tell even before Cruz speaks that he's won the argument.

  "I'd say fuck the rules and kill the bastard."

  "And you started the whole mess by killing Damian," Ryker points out. "And now Trent thinks Cleo has something to do with it."

  Cruz's face falls, and he looks remorseful. But there's no changing the past. Damian is dead, and Cruz is his killer. We all agreed at the time that a cover up was our best option. Now it's come back to bite us in the ass in a way no one could have predicted.

  I wonder why Ryker has left off the last part of our bargain with Gardel. It would be better for Cruz to know, right? But, as always, I keep my mouth shut. Ryker has to have a good reason for what he's doing. I'll just have to trust him.

  The conversation peters out after a while and I can tell just by looking at Cruz and Holly that they've been run ragged. Bryan can be hard to keep up with at the moment. Heaven help me when he becomes mobile.

  "Go home," I say, pushing Holly towards the door. "You're dead on your feet. We've got him."

  "Are you sure?" she asks, raising one pale, perfect eyebrow. "That had to be a sleepless night in Gardel's terr
itory."

  My face heats and I just know I'm turning scarlet. I had slept very well beneath Gardel's roof. Because of Ryker exhausting me. Cruz doesn't seem to have noticed but Holly's eyes fly wide and a broad smile stretches her lips. She knows. God, do I just have "I had sex with Ryker" written on my forehead?

  "Call me," she says, grin growing even more vulpine. "Or you could come out with Penny and I tonight. We could talk."

  Code for, spill all your dirty secrets, Cleo. I'm going to get such a ribbing from the girls about this. Maybe I deserve it. I've been blind for so long.

  "I will," I say. "Later."

  "I'm not sure it's a good idea to be out and about, Cleo," Cruz says in a warning tone. "At least not until we've dealt with this."

  I nod. "Whatever you say, Cruz. You're the boss."

  He nods, though there's humor glinting in his dark eyes. "And don't you forget it."

  I spend most of the day curled next to the window, glancing anxiously out at the street. It's getting dark, and by now Penny and Holly are likely discussing the sordid details of my sex life over drinks. I'm torn by just what's bothering me most. The idea that Trent is out there just waiting to plug me, or that I've hurt my chances at keeping Bryan. My lawyer called to tell me the judge was not pleased. If I don't turn up to the next hearing, my chances fall even further.

  But what did I say? That I was in the middle of a turf war between a raging psychopath and I'd been forced to flee into enemy territory? I doubted that would go over well, even with the most unscrupulous judge.

  "You're biting your lip," Ryker notes. "You're worried."

  I turn slightly and give him a soft smile. "Do you know all my tells by now, Ryker?"

  "Most of them. You're pretty transparent most of the time."

  "How long have you been watching me, Ryker?"

  It's hard to tell beneath the day's growth of beard he's sporting, but I think that he colors. I swivel to face him and deposit myself on his lap, giving him the first sincere smile I've had in a while.