Eleven
I was surprised that he’d tried to call me yesterday, but maybe he really was that eager for another night together. I’d yearned to answer it, to hear his voice, to hear it doing something other than yelling out in pain, or groaning with pleasure, although I’d happily take both of those again too.
It was pure common sense that had stopped me before I answered. I didn’t know what resources their club might have. What if one of their ‘brothers’ just happened to know how to track me? What if they had some tech whizz among them, who could triangulate my signal? I’m sure that’s a thing, and it could have been a huge mistake.
I made the decision to retire my phone, and switch to a burner, because I always carried several, fully charged, and ready to switch on and use. The one I was discarding was also a burner, because being trackable was something I couldn’t afford.
I transferred my few numbers across and disabled the phone, removing the sim card, and using a pair of scissors to cut it in half. I’d toss the pieces in a skip later, when I was out and about.
I couldn’t risk going back to him tonight now, and that meant that I needed to find a new conquest. Mama needs to get her fuck on, because there’s literally nothing else in my life now.
I sent a quick text.
Me : I need another one.
It was six long minutes before my accomplice replied.
Z : Already? Any preference?
I smirked. Yes, a particular biker… but I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk him being ready for me this time, or his brothers being on standby. If they got hold of me, and he wasn’t yearning for round two, then I’d be in serious danger. I’d probably even die for it.
I glanced at my wigs, wondering what look to go for tonight. I had a new blue wig I really wanted to try out.
Me : Someone like the last, but not from his crew.
That would tell her enough. I wanted dark, rugged, and dangerous, but I was smart enough to avoid the people close to him.
Me : Don’t risk the same bar. They could be watching.
Another too long pause, then a reply.
Z : Need more supplies?
I got up and checked my bag, with my night-time fun supplies. Plenty of Viagra, but low on the other.
Me : Low on the G.
This time an instant reply.
Z : I’ll take care of it.
She knew she’d earn well for that. For all of it, in fact. I went for a soak in the bath, to start my pre-sex rituals, psyching myself up for a rampant night with whoever she selected for me.
Ryder
A week had passed. A fucking week. A week of nothing but being locked down still, because Reacher was convinced that I was still off my game. Ice had nothing new, and swapping out my phone meant the bitch couldn’t contact me anymore, so no more video clips or messages either. Ice was also keeping watch on social media, and scanning for videos of me out there in the world, where everyone could see them.
He was convinced that she’d made a threat that day, when she said she had more videos. Like it was a warning that she’d put them out there, making a fool of me, and the club too.
The longer I was trapped in my room, away from everything that made this life bearable, the more I felt like I was close to losing my shit. I didn’t feel like a victim, or feel used anymore. I felt frustrated. Furious. Murderous .
I wanted to find the bitch, and kill her slowly, along with anyone she knew, anyone she cared about. I wanted to kill, to feel blood splashing my face, as I tore her apart. I wanted to smell it, to feel it. To fucking taste it.
“Do I need to slap you?”
I blinked, staring at Torch, who’d clearly let himself into my room without me even noticing. He was frowning at me, as I stood by the kitchen counter, with my coffee beside me. I touched the mug; lukewarm. How long had I been standing here dwelling on this shit?
“What are you doing here?”
“Thought you might wanna get out of here for a bit.” He straightened his cut, smoothing his hands over the patches. He had news, and he really wanted me to ask.
“I wish.” That was all I could offer him.
He heaved a huge sigh, like I was screwing up his big reveal. He offered me two middle fingers, a salute I’d seen many times from him.
“House arrest is lifted, brother. I thought you might wanna get out on the road for a bit.”
I pushed away from the counter, feeling some of that weight lifting from my shoulders at the mere thought of getting the fuck out of here.
“I can leave?”
He smirked. “ Finally, he catches on .”
I mirrored his rude gesture back at him.
“And I can ride?”
He grinned widely. “As long as you have an escort. That’s me, by the way. They wanted someone responsible.”
“I’m doomed. You realise that shit is totally on its head, if they think I’m the loose cannon, and you’re the good boy?”
He snorted, heading for the door.
“Don’t make me carry you out there, asshole. I’ve been stuck inside almost as much as you.”
Yeah, boo fucking hoo. At least he was allowed to get his dick wet, even though I still didn’t think I could. Had I tried wanking every fucking night I’d been stuck inside? Yeah, of course. Not waking up with a boner was the most freaky part, like even in my sleep, he was out of commission.
Maybe a return to everything else familiar was what he needed, to remember who the fuck I was.
Torch wasn’t heading for the stairs though. He was heading in the direction of the infirmary.
“What’s going on?” I asked him, as I followed him.
“Doc has your test results. Let’s find out if you can go get laid too.”
Jesus, I fucking wish.
Doc had good news.
“All clear. Either she’s a careful whore, or she wrapped you up. Either way, no diseases.”
Thank fuck for that. “So I’m off fucking celibacy watch too?”
He smirked. “Should I pre-warn Chrissy for you? I mean, you’ve got more than a week’s worth to give her.” My face dropped, and he caught it, damn intuitive bastard. “Uh, Torch. There’s one other thing I need to run through with him, but, you know… privacy, and all that shit.”
Torch snorted. “I’ll be downstairs.” Once he left, the doc closed the door.
“How do I put this, without sounding like a prying asshole…” He stared intently at me, and I knew exactly what was on his mind. Shit, don’t push me, man.
“Don’t ask me that. Please .”
He sighed. “That’s the answer I was worried about. You’ve tried… uh… visual aids?”
Jesus. I rubbed my hand over my face, feeling a new wave of shame, this time because I seem to be fucking impotent now.
“Of course I have.”
He sat down, staring at me with those oddly caring eyes of his.
“Brother, you know this is probably a psychological thing, right?”
I groaned, clenching my fists at my sides, releasing them again with a slow breath. It’s not like that fucking helped me right now, did it? A limp dick was still a limp fucking dick.
“Are you sure none of the things she doped me with caused it?”
He rubbed his stubbly jaw, thinking for a moment.
“It’s unlikely. I know you’re not someone who takes any substances, apart from alcohol and caffeine, but I think it’s more to do with the emotional effect of being forced into something out of your control.”
I looked away from him. “I’m not emotional. I’m pissed as hell .”
“Anger is an emotion, moron. My point is, that you’re deeply affected by what happened, and while you’re in a mess in your head, the chances are that your junk is gonna stay dormant. If I were you, I’d get drunk, and see what happens when your inhibitions are lowered.”
Yeah, like I haven’t already tried that in the privacy of my room. Still, I shrugged at him, because what I wanted right now was for this conversation to be over.
“Whatever. What I need to do is punch some people, or find the bitch who messed me up, and carve her up real good.”
He stood up, shaking his head. “While that may appease the anger in you, I doubt it’s going to be a magical fix. Still. Stranger things have happened. Just please, make sure you’re directing this anger at the right person. The last thing you want is to hurt some innocent person yourself. It’s not gonna help your mental state.”
I headed for the door, because this room was stifling me, and our conversation was fucking me up even more.
“I promise I’ll ask first if she’s the bitch who raped me. Anything else, doc? Any more pearls of fucking wisdom for me?”
He sighed. “Yeah, get the fuck out of my infirmary .”
That I could do.
M y god, how I’d missed the thrill of the ride. My bike rumbling beneath me, the road flashing beneath my tyres. Scenery disappearing into a blur. Wind rushing at my face. I’d worn my open helmet, with bandana and sunglasses, purely because I wanted to feel every breath of air on me. I’d been trapped indoors for too fucking long.
Everything else that had been plaguing me just fell away, and left me to just enjoy the ride. This is what I was made for. What I lived for. This was why I existed. Raw pleasure flowed through me as I rode, and I just kept going, heading for the country roads, the ones where there were twists and turns, and far less traffic, so I could ease up my speed, and really feel it.
We stopped at a roadside café, easing our bikes up off the road, making sure they were safe, before we grabbed the only available outside table, and ordered coffee.
“Jesus, I needed that,” I finally muttered, noticing Torch had kept his trap shut since he’d ordered his drink.
He nodded. “Good day for a ride, brother. Hoping you’re gonna stop your kamikaze impression on the way back though.”
I frowned, turning my eyes away from the road, where I’d been watching the occasional car whizz past, while I relished the warm air, and the outdoors, after being cooped up for so long.
“What?”
He jabbed a finger at me. “You were pushing it, and you know it. These roads are deadly, even in good weather, and you were going hell for leather. I know you’ve missed it. I know you’re in a mess right now, but I don’t want to be watching you get mopped up off the fucking road, yeah?”
Our coffees arrived, and we fell silent, until we were alone again.
“I was just enjoying it. I was being careful.”
He quirked a single brow. “Yeah, and I’m just a worrywort. You know you were being a dick. You were being reckless. It’s like you wanted to crash, and suffer for it.”
I added sugar to my coffee, turning to watch the quiet road again.
“I was just relishing the ride, brother. Nothing more in it than that.”
He leaned forward, jabbing me in the chest.
“I’m the one who convinced Reacher you were safe. I pretty much fucking begged him to let you get out and get some air. Get some road. You wanna prove me wrong? Make me look like a prick? Even worse, make me have to go back and tell them that my little act of kindness got you killed?”
Jesus . I held up a hand. “Got it. I’m sorry. I was just a bit stir crazy, and it felt like heaven being on the road again. I’ll take it easy going back. I promise.”
He leaned back in his seat.
“I knew you needed this. They were gonna keep you in for at least another day. I know I’d be losing my mind in your position.”
“Thank you. This means so fucking much. Honestly. Getting out for a bit has done wonders for my mood.”
“Well, I’m all about keeping your mood up, or some lame ass shit like that. Honestly, I just miss the two of us being on the road, you know? You being benched has had me in pretty much the same position, since we normally team up for stuff.”
Suddenly I realised that we’d both been fucked by that bitch. He was right.
“My god. You never said.” Or did he? Would I have even listened an hour ago? I was feeling all kinds of normal again, after some fucking road time.
“I’m saying it now. Keep your head on straight, because I need us out and about again. We have a better chance of luring your little bitch out into the open too. She was messaging you. She clearly didn’t get enough of you before. She wants an encore, Ry .”
I tried to hide the shudder of revulsion that ran down my spine at that thought. She wasn’t getting a fucking encore. Not on her terms, anyway. She was getting a dose of fucking justice. Club style.
“What if we find her?” I asked him then, wondering what his plans were.
He sipped his coffee, his eyes darting away for a moment.
“You take the lead, brother, and I’ll follow. You want to kill her, I’ll watch. You want to torture her; I’ll pass you the fucking tools.”
He wasn’t finished, but clearly he was unsure whether to continue. He let out a deep breath before he spoke.
“You want to fuck her up like she did to you, and I’ll do what you need me to do.”
I glanced around, glad that the tables near us had emptied since we sat down. The curse of being bikers. Nobody trusts us worth a damn, and maybe they were right not to.
“You’re talking about both of us raping her.” He flinched at my words.
“Just so we’re clear. That’s what you’re saying,” I pressed, and he chewed on his thumbnail.
“If that’s what you need. I’m your brother. I got your back.”
Well, shit. Now we just needed to find the bitch, and fast. I needed this over and done with. I needed my fucking life back.
W e took a more relaxed ride back to the clubhouse, because I had no desire to die on the road like he’d suggested. I hadn’t even realised how reckless I’d been on the way out here. When we got back, I took some time to fuss over the bike, because I wasn’t ready to be inside yet.
Torch had disappeared inside almost immediately, but he returned with a couple of beers, and then we sat on the concrete by our bikes, and enjoyed the sun a little while longer.
“Honestly, I feel so much more normal now,” I muttered, sipping my beer slowly, enjoying the icy cold brew.
“I’d never have called you normal, but whatever,” Torch, ever the wise-ass, muttered right back.
Stitch joined us, his own beer in hand.
“Good day for a ride,” he spoke quietly, that usual hippy-like calm making him seem relaxed and easy. I wished I knew what that felt like, because I’d never been that way. Always quick to anger, quick to frustration, and lately, more like a goddamn hair away from losing my shit.
“Yeah,” I finally answered, because Torch was silent.
“Probably not the best time for bad news then, eh?” Stitch added, watching me as I turned to look at him.
“Jesus. Don’t tell me you’re still keeping me locked up. I’m good, and doc says I’m clean.”
He smirked. “I’m sure the club girls will be pleased, Chrissy especially. You know she’d let you claim her.”
Yeah, and I’d considered it in the past. When we were together, it was like we were absolutely on the same wavelength, completely in tune. I just didn’t love her, and when I claimed an old lady, I wanted it to be because I was desperate to be with her, and her only, for the rest of my days. I guess I’m a sappy fucker, but that’s what I wanted.
“So you said there’s bad news.”
Stitch cleared his throat. “Uh… some guy was found dead this morning.”
I felt a sudden panic that it was gonna be the guy I’d attacked.
“It wasn’t me,” I blurted, almost instantly.
Stitch snorted, glancing at Torch, before he looked back at me.
“Brother. She fucked up big time. She killed this one.”
My stomach clenched, and I suddenly felt too hot, like I was burning from the inside out.
“What the fuck!”
He stood up, his beer left on the ground, like he sensed I was about to blow.
“Brother… take it easy. This is good. Not for him, but for us. She made a mistake, and we’re gonna find her because of it.”
I pulled at my hair, trying to shake off this agitation filling me up.
“She… how? How did she kill him?”
Torch was standing now too. Oh well, look at that. I’d also stood up. When did I do that?
“Uh… prelim intel is that he had some reaction to the drugs she used. Heart attack, so he probably died mid… uh… anyway, she’ll be knocked off her fucking game right now. So this is when we’ll get her. She won’t be thinking straight.”
I pulled at the neck of my t-shirt, trying to force more air into my lungs.
“How? How will we get her? She’ll be on the run. She’ll be… if she even cares… she’ll be on the retreat.”
Stitch smirked, which seemed completely out of place right now.
“We know where he was picked up from. We have better intel on who picked him up this time, and while you were out, we sent a few boys to track her down.”
I blinked. “You found her? You mean it’s over? We’ll finally get to put her down?”
Stitch was running his hands through his hair.
“All I can say is that we should have her here within the hour, brother. What happens from there, that’s down to Reacher. And you.”
She was coming here. They had her. All of this was coming to an end at last. And she’d killed some poor guy. What the fuck?! The poor guy would forever be seen as a victim. A rape victim, who had died at the hands of his rapist. Jesus Christ.
“Who’s the guy?”
Stitch had already been walking away, but he stopped and glanced back at me.
“No idea. Why?”
I had no reason to want to know. I just did.
“Just curious. Clearly not one of our club, right?”
He shook his head. “Older guy. Reacher’s age. Some businessman.”
Wow. She’d gone from a biker to a businessman. Of course, she may have had many men in between. And why did that piss me off so much? I sure as hell didn’t want her for myself. Was it more about the fact that she’d acted like she wanted me back, and then she went and fucked others anyway?
In an hour or so, I’d finally have the answers I wanted.