Ryder: MC Biker Romance (Great Wolves Motorcycle Club Book 8) Page 3

What the hell? Would Boone really shoot me? I didn’t know. But I wasn’t stupid enough to test it.

  I was no match for Boone in any category. Boone was fast, huge, and accurate. He closed the distance over the ditch in about three steps. In an instant, he had his strong hand wrapped tightly around my arm and yanked me forward.

  He barked in my ear. “That’s enough of your bullshit. Let’s go.” And he dragged me along.

  He also made an incredible misstep. He’d put his back to Ryder. Ryder had taken care of Dirt for good it appeared, and Headlock was also now in a heap.

  Somehow, in my flight from the Devil's Hawks, I’d stumbled onto a one-man wrecking crew, and he was pissed. The smile and the sexy flirt were gone.

  I hadn’t seen anyone in my entire life as lethal looking as Daddy until this moment. And his name was Ryder.

  “Get your fucking hands off the lady.” He said in a low voice that scared me and got Boone’s attention.

  “Stay out of it, Great Wolf. She’s not your business.” Boone squeezed tighter, and I winced. His whole hand fit around my bicep.

  “She is now,” said Ryder. Boone had me in one hand and a gun aimed at Ryder in another. I knew Boone was going to kill him. I’d underestimated Daddy’s club. An underestimation that had already lead to gruesome violence.

  I looked Ryder in the eye. I hoped he sensed what I was throwing at him.

  With all the strength I had, I pulled away. Boone’s grip didn’t loosen, but I did pull him off balance. And his gun off its target.

  Ryder didn’t hesitate. He grabbed for it, and Boone was forced to let me go. I fell to the ground and watched Boone and Ryder struggle against each other as I crawled to get the distance between Daddy's men and me. Ryder had grabbed Boone’s wrist. Their bodies clashed as they wrestled for the gun.

  Then it went off. It cracked the quiet of the countryside with a loud pop sound and stopped the struggle between the men. Was it Ryder? Had I caused another man to be hurt today?

  The two men separated. Ryder didn’t have the gun. It was still in Boone’s hand. He’d somehow shot himself. He grabbed at his thigh, and I saw a red splotch stain the denim of Boone’s jeans. It had ripped a whole in the side, but it looked more like a scratch.

  “You fucking son of a bitch.” He spat the words at Ryder and dropped to one knee as he examined himself.

  “It grazed your leg you pussy,” Ryder said and then he was a blur of aggression. Ryder kicked the weapon out of Boone’s hand and then kicked it again into the field. He wound up again and struck another devastating blow across Boone’s jaw. Boone went down. In the space of a few minutes, he’d rendered all three Devil’s Hawks unconscious.

  He didn’t go for the gun that had landed in the field. Instead, he put a hand out to me. I was in shock, stuck to the spot on the ground where I’d fallen. I was mired in wedding dress fabric. I was also confused by all that had happened in the last few moments. Ryder took a deep breath and walked closer

  “You are the craziest bride I’ve ever seen. And you are trouble. For sure. But hurling that rock? That was the ballsiest shit I’ve ever seen a woman do. Come on, I’ll help you get out of here.” Ryder’s eyes locked onto mine.

  I didn’t know what was happening between us, but I felt a connection. I felt a desperate need to put my hand in his and then run. I should go back. I should marry David Wexler. I should do all those things to keep everyone around me safe.

  What I should do and what I needed to do were two different things. I wanted to be away from Devil’s Hawks. Something had put Ryder in my path to help me do it. Daddy expected me to tow the line. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

  “I’m huge trouble. I can’t let anyone else get hurt on my account.”

  “Do I look hurt?” he said, and I looked at him. He was leather, muscle, and handsome hero topped with swagger and a Mohawk.

  And no. He didn’t look hurt. Three men had come at him, and he didn’t so much as have a scratch on him.

  I put my hand in his, and he gently tugged to help me to my feet.

  “Are you okay?” He asked me in a different tone than the one he’d used on Boone just seconds ago.

  “I think so.” We were close. He put another hand out so I could stand straight. I couldn’t but notice it was the same stance, hands in hands, that I was supposed to be in with David Wexler right now. A sacrifice at some altar at a church I couldn’t name. Instead, both my hands were in Ryder’s and my heart was beating a mile a minute.

  “Good.” Then Ryder leaned in and put his lips on mine. It was as savage as the punches I’d seen him deliver. It was unexpected. And it sent a shock through my body from lips to toes. I yielded to his lips and felt a gasp escape mine.

  Then he pulled back.

  “Let’s go.” Ryder scooped me up, giant dress and all, and sat me on his bike.

  “What about that, uh, mess?” I didn’t know how else to refer to the three men my Daddy had sent who were now in various states of consciousness.

  “Good news is it’s their mess to clean up. They’ll be busy with it for a while. So we need to go. That one’s waking up.” He pointed to Boone, and he revved the engine.

  “Did you touch Boone’s gun?” I suddenly worried that Ryder would be wanted by the cops because of me.

  “Nope, fucker shot himself. Now hold on Princess.” I did, the bike surged forward, and I held on.

  I didn’t look back. Daddy had tried to stop me, but he failed.

  I knew it was because of Ryder. Luck or fate had put him in my path. Where that path was leading now, I had no idea. And it might be lucky for me, but I feared it was unlucky for him. But there was no turning back now, my ride out of town was Ryder.

  Chapter Four

  Ryder

  I felt her softness against my back. I tried not to think about how good it felt. If ever there was a red flag about getting tangled up with a woman what had happened in the last hour was it.

  Gorgeous girl in a wedding dress running like hell from a nasty trio of bloody bikers should have had me riding on without so much as a wave. Anyone in their right mind would have realized this was a bad scene, and she was a dangerous girl to know.

  And I’d kissed her. Out of the fucking blue. This day was getting weirder and weirder.

  I’d never been accused of being in my right mind all that much. She may be a cream puff in white, but she’d clocked one guy with a rock to the head, and she’d brazenly lured the barrel of a gun from me to her. I didn’t often look for old lady material, but those two actions right there had to be on any resume for biker wife.

  Wife? Yeah. I was way ahead of myself. She did have a white dress on for fuck’s sake.

  That said I did have to keep my head and do a little math. I had turned the bike around and driven the opposite direction of the campground I was headed. If one of them was awake enough to see us drive off, I wanted them to be a little confused about where we were headed.

  We were headed west. All the way to the big lake.

  After about five miles and no sign of the Devil's Hawks. I doubled back and headed for my favorite campsite at Van Buren State Park. It was about a two-hour ride away.

  Jules held on, and I liked it a hell of a lot more than I should have. This chick had nearly gotten me killed. Though I didn’t blame her. I didn’t have to stop. I didn’t have to help her.

  “You okay back there?”

  “Don’t worry about me. Just go.” Okay then. Go I did.

  She didn’t try to talk or act as if she wanted to stop to rest so we rode.

  I’d picked Van Buren because it was close to home. My old home anyway.

  It was also just the right drive away from Grand City to clear my head. Hopefully, it was far enough away from whatever had Jules looking over her shoulder every few minutes.

  My trip to hang out alone had turned upside down, but this Runaway Bride needed a ride. Had I just started a war? I wondered at how much trouble I’d stepped into with the three ami
gos I’d left alongside the road.

  What was the alternative? Let her go with those assholes? Not fucking likely.

  The violent start to our ride ended quietly and as I pulled into the familiar campground offices and general store.

  “My plan is to get a primitive campsite. I got my tent and shit here in my pack. Do you have a plan?” Jules looked at the pack I’d been hauling.

  “Are there any cabins? I can pay. Can you check?” she said.

  “Yep, I’ll ask the man. But usually, this place is booked solid. It’s the busy season. I’d recommend you wait here.” I told her. She nodded.

  The office clerk at the Covert Park Beach and Campsite was not going to forget a woman like Jules walking up in a grass stained wedding dress. If she didn’t want to be seen, she’d need to stay by the bike. As busy as the campground was, no one was checking in at the moment. Maybe she’d catch a break and slip in without a lot of eyeballs.

  There were a fair number of private campsites around Van Buren State Park, one of the many state parks along Lake Michigan. Covert Park Beach and Campground was one of my favorites. I could put up my tent, and the fire pit was always ready to go.

  I paid the man for my three nights, less than one hundred bucks, who could beat that? Then I gave it a try for Jules.

  “Any open cabins?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s June booked solid.” I wasn’t surprised by the answer.

  “Thanks for checking man.” He handed me a map to my site. I bought a few supplies, some with Jules in mind since the office doubled as a camp store and I headed back to my bike. Jules standing next to it with ruffled hair and wedding gown made me want to laugh out loud. Her Chuck Taylors were the icing on a wedding cake she’d basically smashed into the ground.

  “Well?” Jules asked.

  “If you’re looking to stay here you’ll have to stay with me. They’re booked.” Jules looked around me and at the office. She seemed to be weighing her options. I had no idea what her situation really was so I let her think a second.

  I’d love to get her next to me in a sleeping bag. Thinking about it was enough to have me straining against my jeans. But I wasn’t going to push her. Something had gotten really fucked up in her life. It was best if she made the calls without me pushing.

  “Can I stay with you? I promise I’ll stay out of your way. I just need to figure a few things out.”

  “It does look to me like you left in a hurry without much of a plan.” I pointed out the obvious.

  “Yeah? Couldn’t be avoided. So yes or no?” She looked at me with those gray eyes, and the fear was gone. What I saw now was a flinty attitude. She’d made some sort of decision and was barreling ahead. Maybe that’s exactly what running away from a wedding was. A rash decision she’d fully committed to. I could relate to that at least.

  “My pup tent is your pup tent. As long as you don’t snore.” And I saw her pretty mouth curl a little into a smile.

  “I’ll try not to. And here, I owe you at least this. Let me know if it’s more.” She pressed fifty bucks into my hands. Okay. She was paying her own way. Sort of. Other than the bike and the muscle I’d just offered for free.

  We hopped back on the bike and head to the site I’d reserved. Covert Park Beach and Campsite did have complete facilities for anything you needed just a short walk away, but each site was private. That’s what I liked. My own patch of beach next to Lake Michigan. Maybe someday when I retired I’d get a cottage. Of course, the Great Wolves didn’t have a 401K. Hell, maybe they did? Sawyer was that fucking on top of shit.

  We pulled up to the site. It was a clearing next to the woods with a picnic table and one electrical outlet jutting out from the ground.

  “This is the site?” She asked and gave me some side eye.

  “This is it. All I need to enjoy a few nights with nature Princess.” I supposed if I knew I was going to spend the night with a gorgeous woman I’d have tried for a cabin. But this was supposed to be a trip with me and the open sky, not me and this chick’s can of worms.

  “You don’t look like a camper I gotta tell you,” she said to me and she wasn’t wrong.

  “You don’t look like a badass, but I saw you face up to those Hawks, so I’m thinking you might be just a little bit badass.” She smiled at that.

  “What can I do?”

  “You ever camp before?”

  “No, never.”

  “Okay well, the first thing is you probably don’t really want to be in a wedding dress out here.”

  She looked down.

  “I never wanted to be in a wedding dress anywhere.” Her dress was looking rough at this point. Grass stained fabric combined with her now windblown hair made her look like a tornado had hit a wedding and dropped her down in front of me.

  “Down that path and to the right is a set of wooden stairs. At the end of the stairs is a bathroom with a shower. If you have clothes to change into now would be the time. It’ll only take me fifteen minutes to set this up.” I had started to unhook my gear from the bike.

  “Okay.”

  “And if you see a bear yell at it, loudly.”

  “What? Does that work?”

  “No idea.” She shook her head, put her bag over her shoulder, and made off for the bathroom facilities. I watched as she navigated the trail with her dress and attitude. This was not an outdoor girl, but she also was not a wuss. She hiked up the dress and soldiered on. It was sexy as hell.

  I set up the tent and started to realize I was starving as I finished the task. It didn’t take long, and there she was again. Princess Jules had scaled way back on the hair and makeup, and the girl in front of me looked totally different.

  And she took my breath away.

  “I like this better,” I said to her. She had on a tiny t-shirt and beat up jeans.

  “Thanks. It’s all I could grab on my way out.”

  “SCAD? What’s SCAD?”

  “My college, where I went to school, Savannah College of Art and Design in Georgia.”

  “Long way away from Michigan.”

  “It seems like it now. Yes.”

  “What kind of job does your SCAD degree, I guess you have a degree, get you?”

  “I do. I just graduated. It’s been less than two weeks.” She looked sad and vulnerable all of a sudden. I wanted to kiss that look off her face.

  “Well, why don’t you pull up a chair at the picnic table while I start a fire, and you can tell me about SCAD.”

  I busied myself getting my fire going and putting the grate over it. If there was a better meal than fish or burgers over an open flame, I didn’t know what it was.

  ‘Hope you’re not a vegetarian. I mean I’ve got some chips but mostly it’s meat out here.”

  “I’m not really hungry but thank you.”

  Jules seemed about as lost as a person could get. The attitude and swagger I’d seen as she fled in a wedding dress were seeping away. It was like the momentum of the morning was draining from her as the sun went down.

  “So how do you go from graduation robe in Savannah to wedding dress in Michigan in two weeks?”

  “I don’t know. Well, I do know. I just still can’t believe it.” Her chest rose and fell in a way that made me think that she was holding back panic.

  “So you obviously left a groom at the altar, and you obviously pissed off the Devil’s Hawks. Second thoughts about getting hitched to a Devil's Hawk?”

  “No, well yes. I was supposed to get married. But not to a Hawk. My Daddy is the Prez. He was forcing me to marry a man who he needed.” Shit. I was sitting with a daughter of a Prez, who’d run away. God help me.

  “I see, you had no say in it?” As clean as the Great Wolves were the Devil's Hawks were dirty. The guns, drugs, prostitution, and crap we divested of still existed and Devil’s Hawks were among the many trying to get in on the action we didn’t want anymore.

  “I walked at graduation, and I was going to stay in Savannah or maybe go to Atlanta or
something. But Daddy was there the second I came off that stage. Before the ink was even dry on Juliet Maldonado’s diploma, he had me handcuffed. He didn’t give me a choice. We’re back here a day later. He said he’d let me go get a worthless degree, that’s what he called it, but now I had to earn my way. That meant…”

  She stopped her story and started crying, and it felt like a punch in my gut. I wanted to make it okay.

  I was by her side at the picnic table and had put an arm around her. She sputtered and cried, and I caught every third word. She felt so right in my arms.

  “I tried to convince.. he said it was payback… my degree was a joke.. that my job was for the club.”

  I had no idea what it all meant, but it poured out of her in spurts. She held me and cried into my leather. She was tiny in my arms, and it was clear she needed protecting from her father. From the Devil’s Hawks and whoever this asshole was, she was supposed to marry.

  I’d volunteered for the job. Without consciously choosing it, I felt it in my blood. She was going to stay with me. Safe.

  I stroked her hair, and she started to settle down. She looked up at me with bloodshot eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It’s been a horrible few days. I didn’t have a way out. And now I’ve snotted all over your jacket.”

  “No problem. It’s seen worse Juliet Maldonado.”

  She laughed and seemed to be slowly pulling herself back together.

  “You’re the nicest biker I’ve ever met.”

  “Nice? That’s a first. So out of curiosity what useless degree did you wind up with?”

  “Ceramics.”

  “Uh, what?”

  “You know making vases and bowls and even sculptures.”

  “You can get a college degree in that?”

  “Yeah, I have a bachelor’s of fine arts in Accessory Design with a minor in ceramics.”

  “What?”

  “I want to design purses and jewelry and pottery.”

  “Uh.” I had no actual answer for that one.

  “Yeah, I guess Daddy was right on that one. Getting a real job with that degree isn’t exactly a sure thing.”