Ryker (The Ride #4) (4 page)

“Yeah,” I mumbled, my appetite evaporating.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “This was always your mother’s department,” he began, and I eyed him with surprise. It was the first time he’d voluntarily mentioned her. “But I’m a good listener.” He shrugged uneasily.

“Thanks, Dad.” I smiled warmly, touched by the offer. “I’m fine. Things with Ryker are just…” I searched for the right word. “Confusing,” I finished lamely.

He chuckled, the first time I’d heard the sound since my mother died. “You two.” He shook his head. “Your mother and I had bets on when you’d finally work things out.”

“What?” I exclaimed, shocked.

“Piper, that boy has been in love with you since the first time you dragged him home with you. I’m well aware of his reputation,” he muttered. “This is a small town. And God only knows what he does with that motorcycle club of his. But Ryker was a good boy and I know him to be a good man,” he stated firmly.

“He doesn’t think about me like that anymore; he hates me,” I replied hoarsely.

He offered me a sad smile. “Honey, there’s not much I’m sure of these days, but I know for damn sure that’s not true.” He reached out to grasp my shoulder briefly.

“I know I’m just… well, not myself. I know you came back because you felt like you had to.” He looked off to the side as my heart clenched. “But I’m a grown man. Whether or not I ever pull out of this isn’t for you to control. You deserve to be happy.”

My eyes brimmed with tears and I bit my lip to the point of pain, willing them not to escape.

“Thanks, Dad,” I rasped.

He soon disappeared into his room, his brief break from his ever-present grief taking a turn and sending him back into hiding.

It was almost harder—having the glimpse of my old dad only to have it taken away again.

Chapter 4

“Y
ou following me?” a familiar voice chuckled from behind me a few days later.

I turned to face Tag in surprise. I was dropping my dad’s car off for a service on the outskirts of town. I’d had to find a new mechanic since the one I’d had most of my life wasn’t speaking to me.

“Hey.” I smiled at Tag. “What’re you doing here?”

“Manny here ordered some parts for me,” he replied, cocking his head toward the very cranky mechanic, who I’d just given entirely too much money to. “You need a lift?”

“No, that’s okay, I’ll wait,” I told him, though the prospect was far from appealing.

“I’ll give you a lift. No worries, one of Manny’s guys can drop the car off when it’s done. Can’t they, Manny?” he asked pointedly.

His forceful comment was met with a begrudging nod and incoherent mumble.

I shook my head. “No, it’s really okay,” I argued. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea and I was pretty sure he wasn’t offering out of the goodness of his heart.

He chuckled as though he could read my mind. “Darlin’, you’ve been a part of the Knights’ family a long time. Just trying to be helpful. I didn’t know you and Black have the kind of history you do. It’s just a ride.”

I looked up at him curiously, wondering just what kind of history he’d heard about. “Okay, well then, thank you,” I accepted, grateful I didn’t have to hang around with the grumpiest mechanic of all time for the afternoon.

Tag was good company. He’d piled me into his large truck and immediately put on a metal band I’d seen live in L.A. We talked easily about music and the best shows we’d been to recently.

When his cell rang, he put it to his ear with a gruff “Yeah?”

I watched as his eyes instantly narrowed. “What the fuck?” He listened for a second. “No, I’m tied up right now. Yeah? Well, shit, I’ll be there in a few.”

He looked over at me. “Sorry darlin’, gotta swing by the club. It’s on the way. Should be quick.”

I fought the urge to visibly blanch at the thought of stopping there, forcing a nod instead.

“You been to the club?” he asked, as we drove in that direction.

I nodded.

“With Ryker?” he guessed.

“Usually.” I nodded reluctantly. “A long time ago,” I added, staring out the window as the landscape flashed by.

We pulled up to the club—a large solitary building on the outskirts of town. The desert was its backdrop, serving as a stark kind of beauty in the midst of occasional mayhem.

As a kid I’d thought it was the absolute coolest.

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” he assured me, killing the engine and leaving me sitting out front as he stalked inside.

I groaned out loud as soon as he’d left. If Ryker saw me, there was going to be hell to pay.

I sat in the silent cab, willing the universe to afford me better luck than it had of late. Of course, my efforts went unnoticed.

I recognized the sound of his bike instantly, chastising myself for being so attuned to him. It grew closer, rumbling to a stop somewhere to my right.

“Please don’t see me, please don’t see me,” I chanted quietly, as he cut the engine. I could hear him walking toward the entrance to the club as I stared down at my lap, afraid to move.

I couldn’t believe my luck when he walked right by.

He didn’t even glance in my direction, he was so intent on his task. He walked past me, throwing the door to the club open, and stepping inside.

I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until it rushed from my lungs in a giant sigh.

My relief was short lived.

It was only a few minutes before the door was again thrown open, and Ryker stood in the doorway. This time his attention was solely focused on me. His eyes cut to mine, narrowed to slits as he stalked in my direction.

He threw open the passenger-side door, his arms braced on the frame so he could lean that much farther in. “Why the fuck are you in Tag’s truck?” he barked.

As it always seemed to be with us, his emotion only fueled mine. “He’s giving me a ride. We ran into each other at the mechanic. Why do you care anyway?” I demanded.

“Get your shit, let’s go,” he stated without preamble.

I glared at him. “No.”

“Piper, get your shit,” he growled.

I looked up at him, feeling the familiar pounding of my heart whenever he was near. “Why?” I demanded.

He glared at me silently, but I wanted an answer this time. Yes, I’d left Hawthorne. But after years of unanswered calls, and of ignored visits home, I had to know.

“Why, Ryker?” I fought the pleading tone that wanted to overtake my hoarse voice. “Why shouldn’t I be in Tag’s truck, or anyone else’s? You give me an honest answer and I’ll go with you.”

He looked back at me, the emotions clouding his features too many to name. But he didn’t speak. He couldn’t give me the answers I was looking for.

“You can’t, can you?” I murmured, realizing we had an audience as Tag stepped toward the truck, Wes and Cole watching from the doorway.

Well shit, I certainly didn’t need that, now did I?

“Tag, man, you get in that truck we got problems,” Ryker growled.

“Fuck, brother, she’s not even yours,” Tag replied, sounding more perplexed than challenging.

Ryker ripped a hand through his hair. “Fuck!” he yelled angrily, stalking toward his bike and shoving his helmet on.

Tag got in the truck, starting the engine seconds after Ryker had sped off, kicking up gravel as he went.

“Fuck, woman, your shit with him is all sorts of complicated,” he muttered, backing out of the lot.

“It didn’t used to be,” I murmured, my hands twisted in my lap.

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “It was beautiful once,” I admitted reverently, before I could stop myself.

“Well shit, you feel like that, you find your way back—however you can,” his deep voice rumbled.

If only I knew how.

Chapter 5

M
y dad came downstairs for breakfast the next morning, and despite my mood concerning Ryker, I relished the small victory. We ate in relative silence, the dogs’ nails clicking on the hardwood the loudest sound, but I’d take that if it meant my dad pulled himself out of his self-imposed prison for a short while.

I left Hawthorne after breakfast.

My girlfriend and former roommate from L.A, Sam, had told me about a few boutiques similar to mine off the strip in Las Vegas. I thought it would be a great way to get some pointers on how to make updates to the store. All I knew was what my mom had done, and those concepts were outdated. I need some fresh ideas.

When Ettie called for the third time, I relented and answered as I sped down the highway.

“Hey,” I called, using speakerphone and practically having to yell over the freeway noise.

“Hey, where are you?” she asked.

“Heading out of town for the night,” I replied.

“What? Where?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“I, um, well I’m just going to Vegas for a quick stop,” I answered vaguely, suddenly feeling guilty that I hadn’t invited her.

The silence on the other end gave me pause.

“Vegas?” I could hear the anxiety in her voice but couldn’t place its origin.

“Yeah, there are a few boutiques I want to check out,” I admitted.

“Piper, you shouldn’t go to Las Vegas,” she replied firmly. “Turn around.”

“What?” I responded, surprised by the vehemence in her voice. “No. Etts, it’s just for the night. I’ll be back tomorrow, we can talk then.”

“Piper, seriously, Ryker will freak.”

“Ugggh!” I shrieked, before trying to find some semblance of calm. “Ettie, I’ve known you a long time. I love that we’re friends again. But if I have to hear how I should worry about Ryker one more time, I’m going to pull my fucking hair out!” I exclaimed. “He’s not my father, he’s not my boss, and he sure as hell isn’t my boyfriend. I’m doing this because it might help. It’s good for the boutique. I don’t give a shit what he thinks. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I stated, then winced as I hung up.

She’d forgive me, eventually.

The drive felt longer than I remembered, though part of that might have been that I was praying my car made the journey.

I arrived close to dinnertime, relieved to be out of the car. I hadn’t been to Las Vegas in years and I smiled as I strolled through the brightly lit streets letting the sights and sounds wash over me.

It felt good to be out of Hawthorne for a short while. I needed some breathing room from all the intensity. That’s why I wasn’t disappointed when it became clear the boutiques I’d come for wouldn’t be of help. Sequins and dresses above the thigh brow were so
not
part of my vision for Dixie’s. Either Sam’s taste had seriously diminished, which I doubted, or they’d turned over their merchandise since she’d last been there.

I continued to wander around, not ready to go to the hotel, and found myself at a local dive.

The bar left something to be desired. Its low lighting somewhat succeeded in masking what I was sure was a state of complete disrepair. A small stage was lit with minimal effect; the stool provided for any would-be performers looked like it was ready to keel over. But something about the place spoke to me, so I stayed.

I sat at the bar drinking whiskey, listening to the music, enjoying feeling a part of something without having to be a part of anything at all. My phone pinged with a text inside my purse. I pulled it out and nearly swallowed my tongue at what I read.

Where are you
?

My eyes widened as the text from Ryker momentarily stopped my heart. I’d never taken him out of my contacts, and clearly he hadn’t either. It was absurd how much pleasure it gave me that he’d kept my number all these years.

At a dive bar in Vegas
, I responded, wondering why the hell he wanted to know.

Which one?
His response was so immediate that I told him right away.

“Honey.” An older man spoke beside me, forcing my eyes away from the screen. “You look like my sweet Shirley. We were married twenty years before I lost her. I can’t help but feel protective of you, and therefore I’m gonna tell you that you attracted the wrong kind of company. Best you get going,” he murmured in my ear. “Now.”

I looked over at him in surprise before quickly masking my fear. My heart hammered at his warning and I forced myself not to look around the room.

“What do you mean?” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the bar.

“A group of bikers run this stretch, most of Vegas actually. They own this place. That’s all I’m saying, otherwise I’ll lose my neck.” He shook his head.

I nodded mutely, shooting back the whiskey the bartender had slid in front of me, searching for calm. I had no idea what I was dealing with or how serious this was.

As though I’d conjured him, Ryker appeared in the doorway, flanked by Mack, Wes, and Cole. At first I wondered how on earth he’d gotten to me so quickly before realizing he must have already been in Vegas when he texted me. There was only one person who would have told him where I was.

Ettie.

Their eyes cased the space before Ryker’s gaze landed on me. He tipped his chin toward the door. I didn’t need further direction. I grabbed my purse and small duffel—I still hadn’t checked in to my room—prepared to make a run for it.

“Not so fast,” a gravelly voice rasped, as a firm grip landed on my upper arm. “We haven’t even had a chance to get to know each other.”

I looked at Ryker, watching his eyes narrow to slits. I had to admit sometimes I missed the goofy class clown I’d known Ry to be, but this badass, take-no-prisoners side was sexy as hell.

“Let her go,” Ryker growled, his feet set apart, his massive arms crossed over his chest.

“We gonna bargain then?” the man, who held me, challenged. I still couldn’t bear to look at him. He was too close and I was afraid my fear would spike all the more if I did.

“Yeah, let her go, you live.” Cole shrugged, appearing calm and collected despite the suddenly tense atmosphere. “Listen, Frank, we have to talk our shit out. You bring my brother’s girl in the middle of this…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

I could have kicked my own ass for being so consumed with the whole “brother’s girl” comment.

The grip on my arm released and I was shoved forward. “Fine,” the man spat. “Take her. We just figured she was bait.” He laughed darkly. “Couldn’t be any other explanation for her showing up here if she belongs to one of you.”