Chapter 2 - Royce #2
I rode along the dusty path to the club that connected the two properties.
My bike wasn’t a typical make or model that rode within biker clubs.
Mine was a sports model, a Kawasaki Ninja 500 that had pink fenders.
I really didn’t care what anyone thought of it.
My sister had the exact replica of mine, but the fenders were purple.
We were both extreme clean freaks about our bikes though, so the dust from the uneven terrain wreaked havoc on my beautiful bike.
My speed slowed as I approached the posterior of the club.
The Stone Riders didn’t reside in a dump by any means—the club was a massive, multi-level house with wide windows, manicured lawns, and a private apartment reserved for the president.
That was where our parents stayed whenever they slept over at the club, or we stayed there as a family, which hadn’t been the case for years.
Taryn and I didn’t go near the club often, and if we did it was when the members were all at work, during the day.
I made my way around the side of the house and parked near the garage.
A few guys huddled around an open hood, fixing an old car.
I sat up on my seat, lifted my pink helmet and released my long hair from its confines.
It blew behind me in a shock of cold wind that moved in from the hills.
Early spring was typically warm in Virginia, but we occasionally had our surprises.
While my helmet was pink, my leather jacket was black and fit like a glove.
On the inside I had sewn a Stone Riders club patch.
I stroked my finger over it out of solidarity and habit.
When I was younger, I begged my father to let me join the club.
At one point, I had even asked if I could lead it one day.
He entertained me back then, but the truth was there was still only one female member of this club, and that was my Aunt Natty.
Loose gravel crunched under my boots as I walked toward the bursts of laughter spilling from the garage.
I felt a weighty pair of eyes on me, almost judgy, like I didn’t belong here.
I had no idea why Ford Ryan chose not to leave for college, but him sticking around and pledging to the Stone Riders didn’t make him any better than me.
“Hey, Dad.” I called while sliding in next to him and his best friend, Wes Ryan.
They cracked a joke about a busted radiator, which had my eyes searching their still handsome, but weathered faces.
Tan lines, wrinkles, gray hair, and white scruff.
Their eyes still had a spark of adventure, and a fury that would only be tamed on the back of a bike.
Dad’s arm came around me loosely. “Royce, hey, honey. What are you doing here?”
He let me go for two seconds, and Wes slid his arm over my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “We miss seeing you up at the house. We see Taryn tons, but we never see you.”
My eyes flicked across the garage, landing on the primary reason that I had stopped going to family events at the Ryan house.
Ford, the eldest and only son of the Ryan family, never left, and because he didn’t, our dads assumed we’d stick together.
Perhaps we would have if Ford hadn’t been a colossal dick while growing up.
Even once all our friends had left, he continued to regard me coldly and always with a glare.
Ford didn’t even live with his parents anymore, not now that he was twenty-five.
Which meant there really wasn’t a reason to stay away from family dinners up at the Ryan house.
Jealousy wormed through me at the idea of Ford living on his own, in that little cottage style house my mother had driven me past once.
He probably had a girlfriend or a roommate too.
Even if I wanted a cute apartment or house of my own, I couldn’t live in it alone.
I had once asked Dad if both Taryn and I could live together as roommates in Rose Ridge.
His answer was the same as it was six years ago when I had asked: If I chose to stay in Rose Ridge, I would live under his roof and accept his protection.
The only exception to this would be if I wanted to move into the old cabin, which would never happen in a million years. I hated that creepy place.
“I miss you guys too. I’ll have to swing by for dinner or something,” I said into Wes’s side. Once he released me, I moved to the edge of the hood, getting my dad’s attention again.
“Can I talk to you?”
He glanced over his shoulder, then dipped his head. “Of course.”
I followed him as we moved toward the back of the garage where a few old couches were set up.
Dad wore his leather cut over a long-sleeved shirt, jeans that had been worn so much, they were barely hanging on, and a pair of brown boots.
His hair was mostly gray now, but it was longer and he kept it slicked back nicely.
Dad’s nickname in the club was the Wolf, and while I didn’t fully understand when that started, I knew everyone referred to him as that. Even all these years later.
“What’s wrong, honey?” His gaze tapered as he stared at me.
I sometimes wished I had inherited his green eyes, but it was only his nose and jawline that I’d seemed to get.
Taryn looked more like Mom with the shape of her face and mouth.
We both got Mom’s blue eyes, and her golden hair, but Taryn’s was a closer match than mine.
I had Dad’s smile though, and it was something I always loved being reminded of.
“This is going to seem like a weird question, but did you by chance step down as president?”
He let out a small laugh. “What?”
I focused on the howling wolf sewn into the patch on his shoulder and the one that designated him as president of this club. My gut seemed to flutter with nerves as I wet my lips and tried again. “Did you?”
“Even if I did, Royce…you know I couldn’t tell you. Club business is—”
I shook my head, interrupting him. “I know, but for something as big as this, I know you would have told me.”
He shrugged as if that were the end of it.
“See, there’s your answer. Why are you asking, anyway?
” The Wolf of Rose Ridge glared back at me, calculating and assessing if I were a threat.
I’d be annoyed if I weren’t completely used to it.
Dad had to inspect every angle, check every box even if it came from within his own house.
I tugged at a loose piece of fabric from the couch, unsure how to explain this part. It felt pathetic, but very few people understood my obsession with the Hollow, thankfully my dad happened to be one of the few who cared.
“Rodney is retiring, so I applied for the manager position. He’d consider giving me a shot, but only if I could prove that you hadn’t handed things over. He told me if there wasn’t any town drama started because of our club, he’d give me the promotion.”
Dad tilted his head. “Did he give you a gap of time to avoid said drama?”
“Three months.”
Another flick of his gaze to the back wall where I knew Ford sat. My stomach tightened with worry. Why did he keep looking back at him?
Leaning forward, I placed my elbows on my knees and continued, “Rodney said that the club controls too much in town. That he was one of the few people stopping you guys from having control of one more place in town.”
“That’s a whole lotta shit to spew to the daughter of one of the most dangerous motorcycle clubs in the state.” Dad’s jaw tightened.
Rodney and I had worked closely for years, so it didn’t seem strange for him to speak freely in front of me, but maybe Dad was right.
“Yeah, I suppose. But you’re not stepping down or anything, so there’d be no issues to even worry about, right?”
My father’s gaze fell to the floor. “I’m getting older, Royce. If we do have trouble that comes knocking, then I’m not sure I’m in the best position to protect everyone.”
“Yes, you are,” I replied automatically, without thinking, because my dad was the foundation my entire life rested on. He was a rock, completely unmovable.
His smile was warm and encouraging, but his eyes did that dance where they moved to the one person I didn’t want to inherit this club from him.
“We’ve been talking about handing things down…Wes is ready too.”
No.
His gaze returned to the far wall where a leather cut hung. It was Ford’s grandpa’s, Simon Stone—the original leader of the Stone Riders. “It hasn’t happened yet, and I don’t know how Rodney knows anything about it, but it will happen eventually.”
“You and Wes have been a part of this club for like thirty years or something crazy like that. Please, you can’t seriously be considering this.”
“With the right person, it’ll work. You need to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
I felt that weighty inspection from across the room.
Ford was watching me, but I refused to look.
My teeth were practically glued together with how angry I was.
New leadership meant things were about to get turbulent and if things got messy, that meant my shot at being the new manager of the Hollow was as good as gone.
Dad began talking about my sister, and how worried he was about how frequently she left without telling him where she was going, but I couldn’t focus.
My gaze finally lifted, landing on the boy across the garage, who wore his own leather cut, similar to my dad’s.
I hadn’t been surprised when I heard Ford was pledging, but I was shocked that his parents didn’t seem to care.
Especially his mother. As far as I knew, Callie had always been against it, but perhaps she’d changed her mind.
This was all his fault. If there wasn’t a legacy to hand leadership to, then Dad wouldn’t even consider stepping down.
My mind went back to when we were kids and how we’d once argued about me inheriting the club over him.
Ford was so upset at the idea that I might get what had been my dad’s because he felt like it was rightly his based on his grandfather.
How stupid of him to ever assume any man would give me a shot like that.
It gave me an idea, though. If Rodney was so worried about things getting dangerous for the town, I’d have to stick around and make sure they didn’t.