Ride or Die 1 Read online

  “That’s Gauge’s daughter,” he said.

  “Gauge has a daughter?” Dom laughed. “Get the fuck outta here, old man!”

  Pops spat on the floor and took Butch’s cigarette from his hand. “Sure is. She’s about thirteen or so. Her mom was some hooker down in Florida that he used to hook up with some years back. Social services got in touch with Gauge last week after her mom found out she had HIV and wanted him to take care of the kid now that she had one foot in the grave. He didn’t even know he had a kid.”

  “How’d he know she’s really his? I mean, if she was hooking the kid could be anyone’s,” Butch replied.

  “Got the DNA test done to prove it. So she’s coming to stay with Gauge until he can think of somewhere better for her to be.” Pops turned and started walking back inside.

  “Why can’t she just stay with him?” I said, following Pops and ignoring the wolf whistles from Butch and Dom. We headed back inside and I looked around for her, but couldn’t locate her anywhere. The door to Hardy’s office was closed and the blinds were drawn, so I guessed that they were in there.

  “He don’t know how to take care of some kid—’specially not some girly!” Pops laughed. “’Sides, this ain’t the life for a kid.”

  “I’m doing all right and I’m a kid. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with my life,” I protested, already panicking about her leaving before I’ve even managed to get to know her.

  Shit, before I’d even managed to speak to her.

  Pops patted me on the shoulder. “You ain’t just some kid, Jesse.”

  “Sure fuckin’ feels like it sometimes,” I replied, meaning every word of it.

  Hardy had no time for me whatsoever. Never had and never would. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve such hatred from him, but I’d given up asking long ago. Now I just accepted it and got on with my life. Between Butch, the other club members and the women that came around to cook, clean, and fuck, everyone had a hand in my raising somehow.

  Everyone but Hardy.

  “Not you, Jesse. There’s great things in your future, that’s for certain,” Pops replied.

  He winked at me and walked away before I could say anything else. He walked over to the small bar area that we’d had made for him the year before. One of the club bitches, Rose—a stunning redhead on the right side of thirty and way too fucking young for him—was behind the counter, her long red hair tied tightly at the top of her head, and when she popped open a bottle of beer for him her breasts swayed like Jell-O shots in her top. She handed the beer to Pops as he slid into a seat across from her and patted his knee for her to come and sit on it. It was kinda gross to watch, but I couldn’t deny that the man still had it. I mean, Rose was barely thirty and Pops, well, he was as old as shit.

  I left them to it, not wanting to watch the live sex show, and headed back to mine and Butch’s room, not sure what to do with my day now. I hadn’t known Butch was going out of town for the day on business and I’d thought that we’d probably just hang out. But he’d been doing that more and more—club business or hanging with Dom and not me. I got it, and I understood it; I was just a kid and he was practically a man. Didn’t mean I had to like it, though.

  I shoved my hand down my jeans and scratched at my nutsack as I pushed open my bedroom door, my gaze skipping over to my bed to find a girl sitting on it, one leg curled up underneath her ass, her eyes glued to my small television screen.

  Not just any girl, but her.

  I stopped scratching, my hand frozen in place halfway down my jeans, and I blinked. She started to look up so I quickly took several steps backwards, letting the door shut, and then I stared at the closed door, wondering what the fuck she was doing in my room, sitting on my bed.

  “There’s a girl…in my room,” I mumbled to myself, checking both sides of me to make sure Gauge or Hardy wasn’t around. I caught a whiff of my own armpits and grimaced at the smell. “Shit,” I muttered.

  I took another step away from my bedroom and quickly headed to the bathroom, where I knew the deodorant was, and I lathered myself in that shit so that I didn’t stink like the prepubescent teenage boy I actually was. I rolled my shoulders and puffed out my chest and headed back to my room, taking a big breath before I pushed the door open.

  But she wasn’t there anymore.

  I blinked and let out my breath and walked inside, spinning around in a circle and wondering if I’d imagined her sitting there at all. I sat down on the edge of my bed and continued scratching my nuts, my gaze straying to the television, which was still turned on. The news was on about some miracle cure for the common cold that some doctor down in Canada had made. I turned the volume up to listen.

  “A simple reprogramming of the DNA to reject the cold virus is all it takes,” he said, and I almost laughed. The guy looked like Doc from Back to the Future. I flicked the TV off and looked over to my pillow, ready to grab Butch’s porno mag from where I’d hidden it that morning. But then I noticed that it wasn’t under my pillow anymore; it was open on my bed.

  The woman in the picture had huge breasts, with dark round nipples that looked like saucers on them. And someone had drawn lines around them to make them look like glasses. Not just any someone, but her.

  I smirked and looked up, wishing she’d come back so I could talk to her, but she didn’t.

  At least not that day.

  In fact, it was two years later before I saw Laney again.

  Chapter Two:

  present day

  Jesse

  “Jesse! Stop it!” Laney cried, her anger and frustration with me obvious by the tears running down her face and the fact that her hands were balled into fists at her sides. “I know you don’t mean it—you’re still in there somewhere, I know you are.”

  I paced the room, my whole fucking body feeling like it was on fire because of the anger that was burning through me. I dragged my hands through my hair and gritted my teeth, trying to hold in everything I wanted to say.

  I’d regret it.

  I always did.

  Laney came toward me, her hand outstretched, her eyes beseeching. “I can’t deal with you when you’re like this, just calm down, baby.”

  She was close then, close enough to touch me, but of course she didn’t. She knew better than to get too close to me when I was like this. I’d never hit her, and never intended to, but fuck knew what I would do.

  The anger had been building in me for the past three months—a constant inferno ready to explode. I’d kill everyone when it did,—I knew I would. So I’d held it in the best I could. But it was never enough; it always seeped out a little.

  Besides, I wanted her to hate me, didn’t I? I wanted that look in her eyes to die. It was for the best—at least for her. The only way to protect her was for her to see what a fucking asshole I was and finally hate me. Then she would let me go.

  The sound of Casa’s bike roaring outside sang to my ears and Laney looked nervously toward the door, her eyes looking even sadder because she knew I was going to bail on her, again. I always did when shit went bad between us. It was my way—our way. It was either that or I’d end up killing someone because I couldn’t control my temper.

  I rolled my shoulders, feeling them click and pop in their sockets, and I willed myself to calm down. Deep down, somewhere below my simmering rage, I knew that I was being an asshole. My girl loved me—always had—and I was trying to push her away. One day she’d meet someone else, someone that wasn’t fucked up like me. She’d get married and have their babies and live happily motherfucking ever after.

  That’s what I wanted, right?

  Yet despite me wanting to do the right thing, I was still a possessive fucker that wanted to kill every other man alive when I closed my eyes and imagined another man’s hands pawing at her too-soft skin, her tight ass and flat stomach. And her mouth—those perfect lips that kissed me better every night—wrapped around another man’s—

  “I gotta get outta here, Laney,” I said, turni
ng from her, anger still itching through my veins like heroin.

  Laney’s soft hand reached out and touched me, gently at first and then firmer, until she pressed herself against my back, feeling bolder by the second. Her hands grazed around my waist, over my leather cut as she clung to me.

  “Don’t go, Jesse. Stay with me, please,” she said between kisses across my shoulders. “I don’t know why you’re doing this to us, but please stop. There’s only so much I can take before you break us.”

  I even considered it, the temptation of her sweet touch and her hot breath enough to make me feel something other than just anger for a few blissful seconds. I closed my eyes and pressed the heels of my hands to my eyelids, wishing I could push all the bad away so it just left me and Laney and all the good shit we could accomplish together if I just stopped fucking it up for us both.

  “I know you’re hurting, baby, and I am too. Let me help you,” she whispered, and I knew she was crying again.

  But she couldn’t help me. No one could help me. Not after what I’d done. And if she knew, she’d think the same thing too. So this was how it had to be.

  I shrugged out from under her grip and didn’t even attempt to rein it back in as I slammed my fist into the wall directly in front of me. Laney let out a sharp cry as my hand went through the dry board, the material crumbling around my fist.

  “You just don’t fuckin’ get it, Laney,” I said, pulling my hand free and walking away.

  I left the house, slamming the door so hard I thought it bounced back open, but fuck it, I didn’t care. My boots stomped over the flowerbeds and grass that Laney had loved so much about this house, and I didn’t care about that either.

  I didn’t fucking care about anything anymore.

  Casa was sitting on his bike outside, talking to the piece of ass from next door—Kiera or some shit like that. He saw my stormy expression and whispered something in her ear, and she turned to look at me, her eyes bugging out at my furious scowl. Casa slapped her on the ass and she turned tail and left immediately.

  I climbed on my bike, pulled my helmet on and started it, barely able to hear anything but the rushing of my blood.

  “Everything okay, brother?” Casa asked.

  I looked at the window, seeing Laney standing there, the curtain pulled back far enough for her to look out. Goddamn, she was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen, especially then with the sun starting to fade and casting an orange glow over our house, over her. Her hair hung long and dark down either side of her face, all the way down to that tiny waist of hers, but it was tucked just behind her ears. Tears streaked her beautiful features, and the sick part of me thought she looked even more beautiful with those tears on her cheeks, because those tears were for me. I owned them.

  “Nah, brother, things are not okay,” I said. “Not at all.”

  Casa nodded an okay, already understanding and putting a plan together to help me sort out my fucked-up head. He knew me well enough to help me do what needed to be done, and I trusted him well enough to put myself in his hands. Because if there was one thing that Casa knew how to do well, it was how to deal with my shit. He started to ride and I forced myself to tear my gaze away from Laney, and our home, knowing that I was going to regret it.

  I followed Casa, and we rode until the sun set and the moon was high, and then we pulled into a small bar just outside our town called The Ranch. It was filled with far too many people for such a small place, meaning there was always way too much testosterone floating around and leading to just what I needed right then: a fight.

  I parked my bike next to Casa’s, shut off the engine, and hung my helmet, and then we were walking across the parking lot and heading inside. The doorway was already crowded with people trying to get some fresh air while they ironically smoked cigarettes, filling their lungs with the nicotine that got them through the days.

  The women’s eyes appraised me and Casa as we closed in and the men put protective arms around their waists, letting us know that they had already been claimed, as if that meant anything to either of us. If I wanted one of their woman, I’d have her because no one was fucking man enough to try and stop me. And Casa, shit—panties practically fell at his feet wherever he went. That was just the way it was. The way it’d always been.

  We pushed past them all and headed on in. The music was already loud and thumping from outside and practically ear-splitting on the inside. Bodies were squashed against one another, women’s skin glistening in sweat as they ground against each other on the dance floor, putting on a full on show for the men watching from the sidelines. The whole place reeked of sweat, stale beer, and pussy, and I fuckin’ loved it, immediately feeling myself loosen up.

  We reached the bar and I held up two fingers when the barmaid looked in our direction. She nodded and turned away, and a minute later two ice-cold beers were set in front of me. I handed one to Casa and slid twenty dollars across the bar toward the barmaid. She was slim, with curves in all the right places and a mouth that looked like it could suck the chrome off a bumper.

  She smiled at me, fluttering her long, fake lashes and hoping to keep the change. I sucked in my bottom lip, seeing her gaze fall to my mouth and her eyes dilate as she watched me.

  She was a pretty little thing, though she was wearing too much crap on her face—thick eyeliner under her eyes and bright red lipstick—and with her short skirt and tits practically spilling out of her top, I couldn’t help but stare.

  “Come on, bitch, get me a fucking drink!” a man, if he could even be called that, yelled from the other end of the bar.

  Spell broken, she turned to him, muttering her apologies to both me and him as she grabbed a beer and popped it open. As she handed it to him, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, whispering something into her ear. For all I cared right then, he could have been her old man and he was whispering sweet nothings to her, but I turned and handed Casa my beer and he took it with a sneer, already knowing what I was about to do.

  I stormed my way around to the other end of the bar, cracking my neck as I walked, and watching as other people take note of me and get the hell out of my way. I’m a big guy, and most people moved when they saw me coming. If it wasn’t the wide set of my shoulders or my six-foot three frame, it was the dark gleam in my eyes that got people’s asses out of their seats. Laney once said that she could swim in my blue eyes, that’s how deep they were, but right then they were filled with anger and hate, and were probably blacker than the deepest hole in hell.

  I reached the guy just as he let go of the barmaid’s wrist, almost pushing her away like a cheap piece of meat. Her gaze flicked to me, and I smiled at her and then wasted no time in grabbing the back of his neck before slamming his face into the wooden bar. He grunted out and I smiled in satisfaction as the vibrations from the hit ricocheted up my arm. His body went slack and I dragged him from his stool, letting it fall to the floor as I pulled him backwards and outside into the cool night air.

  A path was cleared as I threw him to the ground and he tumbled and rolled, finally rousing as his body came to a stop near the sidewalk. He groaned and put his hands to his face, his eyes not focusing on anything else but the blood on his hands as they pulled away.

  But I was only just getting started.

  I stormed over to him, enjoying the blood gushing down his face and the fear flashing through his eyes as he saw me and struggled to get back up on his feet. I cracked my knuckles as I got closer and he scooted away, not being able to find the energy to stand up and fight me like a real man.

  “Please, I’m sorry,” he begged, and I heard Casa laughing from somewhere behind me. “I didn’t know she was your woman.”

  “She’s not.” I spat on the ground next to him and cracked my neck from side to side.

  “Then why do you care?” he yelled, sounding angry.

  “I don’t,” I replied, enjoying the look of fear that crossed his face.

  I stood over him, sneering down as he pleaded apo
logies for whatever it was that he was supposed to have done. Dumb fuck didn’t even realize that he hadn’t done anything—and even if he had, that wasn’t why I was doing this. He wasn’t really the reason I was doing this.

  I was doing it because if I didn’t find some way to get rid of the anger, I’d self-combust.

  I kicked out at him, my heavy booted foot kicking him straight in the face, and I watched in satisfaction as more blood gushed free from his nose. Cheers and chants echoed behind me, but I ignored them all in favor of my red-hot fever, the burning self-hatred and anger that ran through me like liquid fire, and I kicked and I kicked and I kicked…

  At some point Casa decided that the guy’d had enough, and he was probably right because the dumb fuck wasn’t moving anymore and the crowd that was cheering me on had gone silent—a clear sign that I might have gone too far.

  Casa laughed and grabbed the collar of my cut before pulling me away. “Come on, loverboy, let’s go get you that pussy now, yeah?” He laughed and dragged me back to the bar entrance, slamming the door open and pulling me inside.

  Casa pushed to the front of the line, but neither of us could see the hot barmaid from earlier, so instead he ordered us two more beers from the barman, who eyed us both warily but served us regardless.

  That time Casa paid, and then we headed further into the bar, my chest finally feeling free of some of the deep anger I’d felt only twenty minutes earlier. My boots were covered in blood, and now that the red mist had cleared I spared a thought for the poor fuck outside who I almost just kicked to death. I patted Casa on the shoulder, glad that he stopped me.

  I downed most of my beer in one go before spotting my barmaid collecting bottles at a table near the back, and I handed my almost-empty bottle to Casa and made my way toward her.

  She looked up, wariness in her eyes, but she smiled at me all the same. I stalked right up to her, taking the bottles out of her hand and putting them back down, and then I pulled her though the bar and guided her into the bathroom with me. The door slammed shut behind us and then I pushed my hands up her short skirt and grabbed her ass with both hands as I lifted her up and sat her on one of the sinks. I kissed her hard enough to bruise, pushing my tongue inside her like I was fucking her mouth with mine. Her hands were in my hair and scratching long bitch-marks down my back. I pulled her top and bra down, freeing her breasts for me to get a good look at.