Ryder (Phoenix MC #1)

Three

W hat a messed up day. After finding myself dumped outside the clubhouse, and having to see the doc, and finding out what the fuck might have happened to me, because I still wasn’t planning to accept that shit, my next fun task was a visit from Reacher and Stitch.

I couldn’t ignore them. It’s basic fucking club respect. I had to let them in. They took in my freshly showered state, since I’d had to wrap in a towel and run for the door, and both of them feasted their eyes on the marks on my chest.

They didn’t comment. Just looked.

“He told you,” I said, a heavy, dejected sigh following the words.

Reacher sat down, and Stitch joined him. They left the single armchair for me.

“Can I get dressed first?”

They both shrugged. I took it as a yes, because I couldn’t face this shit right now wearing just a fucking towel. I took a few minutes to dig out underwear, which FYI, I planned to always wear now, and jeans. I pulled out a black t-shirt, and slipped into that, and then I took a breath, and headed for the kitchen.

“Drink?”

They both nodded, so I dug the vodka out again and poured three shots, heading back to them.

“Sure you should be?” Stitch asked, running a hand over his beard as he accepted his drink.

“What the fuck harm can it do?” I asked, downing the shot instantly, before I even sat down.

Reacher was staring at his drink.

“ He told us .”

“Fuck! I asked him not to.” I felt shame, yeah, that was it. More than anything, I was ashamed. Some chick had somehow forced me into sex, and I didn’t like how that felt. Was this how women felt? I mean, I had no memory of the fucking night at all. Not even the evening leading up to whatever happened, whenever it actually happened. The not knowing was fucking infuriating, and way more unnerving that I could have ever imagined.

“It wasn’t your call to make, or his,” Reacher muttered, drinking his shot, before he returned to staring at the glass. The guy had several piercings in one eyebrow, black studs, and he rubbed them with his other hand. He did that sometimes when he was stressed, which was actually often, now I thought about it. Being the president of a biker club brought a lot of pressures. But right now, we were all facing one we’d never expected.

“I don’t remember a damn thing,” I pointed out, before they started quizzing me.

Stitch was still holding his drink.

“Ice is checking camera footage, trying to find out when you returned.”

“Great.”

He snorted, sipping the vodka, and grimacing. He was a bourbon man. He hated vodka, but these were fucked up times, so suck it up, man.

“Look… we need to know what happened. We need to understand who did this, and what threat they pose to you and the club. You get that, right?”

Reacher looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Join the fucking club .

“I don’t even know who I was at the bar with, or what bar it was. The entire night’s a blank.”

“Torch and Has-Been were with you. I’m waiting for them to reappear. I’m guessing… shit … I assumed they were holed up somewhere with some random chicks. Now I’m wondering if someone went after all three of you last night.”

I frowned. “Someone mentioned a MILF, didn’t they?”

Stitch nodded. “Yeah, Jacko. He was with you guys for part of the night, but had to come back early to do a run for us. He said you left with a blonde fairly early on.”

“That’s the extent of his memory?”

Reacher snorted. “Well, it’s still better than yours, right?”

I grudgingly agreed. “Look… I don’t want anyone else knowing about this. Not the possible details. They’ll be assholes about it. I mean, Jesus , maybe I would be, if it was one of them, you know? And we don’t know. We don’t know anything for sure.”

Stitch dragged his fingers through his shoulder length blonde hair.

“Sooo… no other damage then?”

I knew what he was asking, the intrusive bastard.

“Nothing went in my ass, VP.”

He groaned, glancing at Reacher.

“I’m sorry. It’s not like any of us know what to ask, or how to approach this. Bikers don’t… I mean, we get attacked, it’s normally with guns or knives.”

“Instead of pussies, you mean?”

Reacher got up, and brought the vodka from the freezer to the table, pouring another shot each for me and him. He waved the bottle at Stitch, who grimaced and shook his head.

“No offence, but it tastes like shit.”

I smirked. “Sorry, bro. I’m not as classy as you, when it comes to booze.”

“Look. We’re not trying to be assholes here. We don’t want to pry into anyone’s personal business. But this, it was an attack on one of our brothers, and we don’t take that shit lightly. Once we get some idea of who dropped you off, we’ll be paying them a visit. And we’ll work our way back until we find the person responsible, and then you can get your payback. Club style.”

I liked that idea, although… could I really hurt a woman like I would a man? Could I really torture and kill a female? I’d never done that. I’d killed a fair few men, for the club. It was different though. Sure, those men crossed us, like she’d crossed me, but they were also more than deserving of a horrible death. What she’d done was despicable, but could I unleash that kind of violence on her?

“We’ll quiz the boys when they get back, find out where you all were at, and what the fuck happened. Guessing you left with whoever the fuck did this, so it should be pretty easy to figure out from there.”

I shrugged, and didn’t that just pull on those fucking scratches on my chest, and remind me of her touch.

“Not sure any of this is gonna be easy, but yeah, I want to know. I need to. Jesus.” I ran my hand through my damp hair. “This is so fucking humiliating.”

Reacher cleared his throat. “Well, uh… an attack is an attack, whatever form it took. Nobody else has to know details, but we’ll avenge you, brother. You know that.”

“I need to be involved. I can’t sit and wait for someone to tell me; I need to be in this.”

He was nodding. “I hear ya. As soon as Ice calls, we’re going to see what we have on the cameras. We’ll go from there.”

Stitch pulled his phone from his pocket, smirking as it buzzed once.

“Couldn’t have timed that any better. Ice has something .”

I grabbed a black, long-sleeved shirt and shrugged it on, before I layered my leather cut over it. Covering up felt better right now. More secure. And I feel like a fucking pussy, for even thinking it .

W e joined Ice in his room, which looked more like a tech lab, with screens and all kinds of shit set up over one half of the small space. He nodded at me in greeting.

“You good, brother?”

I shrugged, trying to act like I normally did, because I felt weak enough already.

“Depends on what you found.”

He moved back over to his screens.

“It’s a start, at least. So, about an hour before the guys found you outside, a car dropped you off. Now the gates should have been closed, but they clearly weren’t blocked from entering the compound, so we need to talk to the prospects about that. It appears that we weren’t secured, because they should have stopped the damn car.”

“Fuckers,” Reacher cursed. “We’ll deal with them after.”

Ice pointed to a screen. “Car comes in at 5.45am, pulls up at the side of the clubhouse, and this person drags Ryder from the passenger side, and drops him on the ground. He’s clearly fucking unconscious.”

I leaned closer, watching as he ran it.

“Run it again.” He did. “ Again .” He did.

I groaned. “Again.”

“That’s enough. You can’t see any more than that,” my President pretty much commanded.

“It was a woman, right? I mean, you saw that?”

“They were slight, and covered up well, but the build looked feminine,” Ice said, watching me closely.

“Thank fuck for that.” As much as it bothered me that a woman might have forced herself on me, I was glad it wasn’t some dude dropping me off. Because then I’d have to consider what else might have happened, while I was doped up and vulnerable.

“You manage to get a number plate?” Stitch asked Ice, who was messing around on another screen with a still image.

“Working on it. If I can tidy it up, the chances are I’ll end up with a few possibilities, what with some digits looking too close to call, but it’ll narrow options down at least.”

“Stitch, chase up Torch and Has-Been. They’re taking way too fucking long to get back here,” Reacher barked, and Stitch nodded, dialling a number as he strolled across the room.

“What now?” I asked, wanting someone to have a damn answer.

“Now we wait. We need intel from those two fucking dicks, when they bother to get their asses home, and Ice needs time to clean up that footage, and run searches. Ice, you come to me or Stitch, the second you have anything,” he muttered, staring at me, as if to say, don’t try to take over. You’ll do as you’re told . I got the message loud and clear.

“Of course, Pres. Uh… Jacko mentioned a blonde at the bar?”

I felt a light shiver run over me, at the mention of this potential rapist of mine.

“Apparently,” I replied.

He gestured in the direction of his computer.

“Once we know what bar, I can pull footage from there too.”

“You can?”

He smirked. “I didn’t get banged up for two years for not hacking systems I shouldn’t be in.”

“You served six months, bell-end.”

He laughed. “Yeah, for good behaviour, because I’m such a fucking little angel.”

Yeah. More like, for once, he decided not to shiv anyone, and they wrongly assumed he’d turned over a new leaf.

“You guys have anything else? I need something to do.” I was edgy. Frustrated.

“Maybe you should catch some rest, brother. You’ve had a late night,” Ice muttered, and I clenched my fists.

“What exactly are you getting at, asshole?”

He looked up, a frown on his face. “Huh? I just meant you didn’t get back until, well… nearly six am. Who knows what the fuck you did all night?”

Yeah, who knows… I wished I could remember something. Anything.

“I need a drink,” I said, glancing around us.

“Got nothing here,” Ice pointed out. Of course. The bastard doesn’t drink. You know, he’ll do various drugs, but thinks alcohol isn’t good enough for his temple of a body. Moron .

I stalked to the door, wrenching it open, and then turned to look at my President.

“Don’t hide anything from me. You find out anything, I need to be involved.”

He glared at me. “Get your ass out of here with your demands. I’ll tell you everything that I decide you need to know.”

“Pres…”

“Don’t push it. Go to your room and get some fucking rest. Don’t drink yourself into a damn coma.”

I flipped him off as I left, hearing him cursing me, and for once, not giving one single fuck. I’d been fucked with, and I deserved answers.

I n my room, I finished the rest of the vodka, about a third of a bottle, and dropped onto my bed on my stomach, falling asleep pretty damn fast.

Red hair, flashes of a plum coloured smile. Pain. Nails tearing through my skin.

I blinked, staring at the wall. What the fuck? I figured it was to be expected after what had happened, so I rolled onto my side, dozing off straight away again.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t stop. She writhed on top of me. Soft moans. Red hair. Nails tearing.

I sat up this time, rubbing my hands over my face aggressively. What the fuck time is it? There was still light coming in through the gap in the curtains. Jesus. I grabbed around for my phone. Where the hell was it?

I finally shoved up from the bed, and went for a piss. I washed my hands, splashing water on my face, but it didn’t help to wake me up more.

I went to the freezer, cursing when I remembered that the vodka was finished.

The clubhouse bar was my only option, so I made my way down from my room, ignoring any brothers I passed on my way to the bar. It was in the large communal space, and thankfully there was a prospect manning it, and just one other brother sitting on one of the other stools; one of the older crew. Jock. He nodded at me, and turned his focus right back to the whiskey he was nursing. Fine with me. I am not in the mood for talking.

The prospect came over.

“Hey, Ryder, what can I get ya?” I dragged a hand through my dark hair and leaned against the bar.

“Vodka.” He nodded, grabbing a glass, and pouring.

“Anything with it?”

I shook my head, reaching for the glass as he approached.

“Thanks, Tommy.” I gulped most of it down in a few large mouthfuls, while he stared at me.

“Jesus, you okay?”

I nodded morosely, and he took the hint, moving away from me.

“Thought I told you to rest up,” Reacher growled from behind me.

“Tried that,” I mumbled, sipping the last of the vodka. It was burning its way through me, slowly lifting my spirits a little.

“Another,” I barked at the prospect, and he started to approach, but Reacher stepped up to the bar, and waved him away.

“This isn’t the answer, brother,” he was speaking quietly, but he might as well have yelled, because that was how it felt.

“Stop telling me what I should do. You don’t know. You don’t know what this is like.”

He glanced at Tommy. “Get some coffee on, kid.”

“I don’t want any fucking coffee,” I snapped, pushing away from the bar. Reacher caught my arm, just before I fell over the damn stool.

“Prospect, get some fucking food for him. Stupid bastard hasn’t eaten, and he’s drinking on top of whatever the fuck he was on last night.”

“Fucking let go!” I yelled, staggering back when he did just that. I crashed into the bar, and slid down, landing on my ass.

“Better? I assume that’s what you were aiming for?” Reacher crouched down, a frown on his face.

“Listen, I know I don’t know what you’re going through. Even you don’t, not really. But I want you to let us get some food into you, because you’re a mess right now. You don’t eat, and you’re gonna be puking again, and you know how the prospects hate cleaning it up.”

I stared at him, my eyes burning with god only knows what.

“ I saw things… when I tried to sleep .”

His eyes widened. “Like?”

“We have some burgers I could whip up for him,” the prospect interrupted, reminding us that this wasn’t the place for this discussion.

Reacher nodded. “Good idea, kid. Bring it to the lounge area. We’re gonna sit and get this one’s head straight.”

He disappeared again, and I let Reacher pull me to my feet, leading me to the corner, which we called the lounge, because it had a bunch of sofas set in a square with a table in between.

He sent a text as soon as he’d taken his seat, and I groaned as I saw Stitch appear from somewhere.

“You didn’t need to call him too,” I moaned, my face in my hands.

“Club business is club business, brother.”

Stitch sat down, glancing at both of us curiously, while I watched him through my hands.

“Getting flashbacks,” Reacher muttered, jerking his chin in my direction.

“Oh hell… the blonde?”

I lifted my head, suddenly remembering something those flashes had revealed that we didn’t know before.

“Uh… no, actually. She’s a redhead.”

They exchanged a look. “Uh… everyone who saw you leave with her insists she was blonde.”

“You spoke to the others?”

“They got back just after you left. It made sense to sort it while you rested,” Stitch said, leaning back in the seat he’d chosen.

“I wanted to be there,” I pointed out, and they both just stared at me.

“And you needed to fucking rest.” I guess that’s why we don’t argue with the Club Pres.

My burger appeared then, along with coffee, and then the prospect was off making more coffee for the other two.

“Don’t just make eyes at it. Eat,” Reacher muttered at me, while I wondered if I could stomach even a single mouthful.

“Boys confirmed you guys went to Butch’s bar. We’ve got them going back there when it opens, to quiz the bartender. Ice is already busy hacking all the cameras in the area.”

I grabbed the burger and took a huge bite, my stomach instantly gurgling in response. In a good way. Like it was saying send me some fucking food right now . I devoured the damn thing in mere minutes.

Tommy had returned with more coffees, and retreated again.

“Keep hold of him. Kid can cook,” I said with a grin, reaching for my coffee. I felt a little better than I had when I woke.

“So… your flashbacks,” Reacher prompted.

A shudder ran through me, as I saw them again in my mind. They were so disjointed and unnerving, dizzying almost.

“Can’t really see anything for sure. Flashes of red hair, the same lipstick colour I… uh…”

“What lipstick?” Stitch was frowning, and I took a deep breath.

“There was plum lipstick on my cock. She obviously went down on me.”

They just stared back at me, so I continued rather than endure more awkward silence.

“I… uh… I remembered feeling nails clawing at my chest.”

“Yeah… not surprised you remember that. Bitch drew blood,” Stitch muttered, checking his phone, like he couldn’t just look me in the eye.

“The important thing is, I’m remembering. By tomorrow, I’ll probably remember everything.”

Stitch cursed under his breath.

“That’s not how this shit works. Those flashbacks? They’re probably all you’ll get. All you’ll see. You’ll likely never remember anything more than that.”

I sat up, my stomach clenching. “ Bullshit . I’m already remembering shit.”

He cleared his throat. “Look… my cousin was… her drink was spiked back in college. She still doesn’t remember that night, and it was nearly eight years ago. All we know, all anyone knows… is that she left a bar with her friends, and woke up in a ditch, raped, beaten, and with no fucking memory. And honestly, I hope it never comes back. She’s had to move on, and try to live her life. If it came back now, it’d destroy her.”

Jesus fuck . I closed my eyes, resting my head on the back of the sofa.

“Perfect. Here I am, bitching about a lost night, and a possible fuck I can’t remember, and you tell me that. I’m such an asshole. This isn’t the same thing. I’m not hurt. I’m not suffering. I’m… I got laid. So what? I do that often.”

Stitch was shaking his head. “Don’t belittle it. You didn’t choose what happened. Any way you look at it, it’s not cool. So when we find the bitch, we’ll make sure she pays for it.”

“We don’t torture women,” I pointed out.

“First time for everything,” he shrugged as he spoke, “some people just deserve to fucking die.”

Reacher and I looked at each other, before we turned to look at him again.

“Anything you want to tell us?” He asked his VP, who just shrugged.

“Got no time for rapists, that’s all.”

I was up and out of my seat in a heartbeat.

“That’s not what this was. Just… just fucking leave it, okay? It… it was a fucked up night, but it’s over. We have more important shit to worry about. We have shipments coming in, and I need to get back on track.” I tried to leave, but Reacher caught my arm.

“You’re on house arrest until you’re straight, brother. Forget the shipments. They’re dealt with.”

“That’s my job.”

“Not right now, it isn’t.”

Fucking hell.