Ride or Die #1: A Devil's Highwaymen MC Novel Page 9

  He treated Butch like an employee, and he was downright hateful to Jesse, but with Silvie he was almost like a different person—a man without the weight of the world on his shoulders. And Silvie obviously cared about him a great deal. Why else would she stick around and put up with his shit?

  I didn’t mean to listen in on Silvie and Hardy, but I was a people watcher. That was what my mom used to say. I couldn’t help that I noticed things that others didn’t. Like I noticed that Axle clearly had a thing for Rose despite being married to River. But I also knew that Rose clearly had a thing for Pops, despite the age difference between them. And what an age gap that was.

  I also saw the way Butch looked at Dom sometimes. And it wasn’t in a best friend way.

  I zoned back in, listening to the sound of Hardy groaning. Either I had missed Silvie’s reply to him or she was reassuring him that she was okay by giving him a blowjob. Either way, it seemed enough to satisfy him and stop him from going in there to look for the fictional spider.

  “Fuckkk, Silv,” he grunted.

  I took another mouthful of beer, wondering what the fuck I was doing with my life. I was almost eighteen, and hiding in a walk-in pantry at my dad’s biker club, when really I should have been out partying with my girlfriends. Not that I had any, but that would change when I got to college, for sure. Once I hit college I was going to put this whole part of my life behind me and make a new beginning up for myself. My mom wouldn’t be a dead hooker, my dad wouldn’t be a sleaze ball biker, and I would be a strong, independent woman making her way in the world.

  But for now, the beer bottle was empty, I was still sober, and I was still hiding and listening to Silvie and Hardy do whatever they were doing. Which meant that I was still a loser.

  The music was getting louder from the other room, and I wished like hell that I was in there dancing and partying, having some fun like the other women. I hated my life, even more so now that I was stuck with Gauge. My mom had warned me about him, telling me the sort of man he was and the life he lived. She’d even warned me away from this life. So I’ll never understand why she wrote to him and told him about me.

  I could have stayed with my Aunt Kate—not technically a real aunt, but she may have well as been. She was the closest thing I had to family, much more so than Gauge. Yet for reasons unbeknownst to me, Mom had contacted Gauge and finally told him about me. The asshole didn’t want to know until he found out that Mom was dying. That’s what a great guy he was.

  He found out he had a daughter and didn’t give a shit. Not until he thought I’d be thrown in the system. Why that mattered to him, I didn’t know, but it was what had changed his mind, and two weeks later Mom was packing up my stuff and Gauge came and collected me, taking me away from my home, my family, and my mom.

  It wasn’t long after that that Mom had passed.

  He took me to the funeral, but I blamed him for the fact that she had died alone in the hospital, without me by her side.

  I hated him with every molecule in my body.

  The sound of grunting and skin slapping against skin coming from the kitchen was getting louder and louder, and I was guessing that the kitchen countertops would need some serious sterilizing after Hardy and Silvie finished fucking on them. Or maybe not. Bikers were disgusting, so they’d probably get off on knowing their food was made on surfaces that had been fucked on.

  Hardy grunted loudly and Silvie let out a little squeal, and the sound of skin slapping against skin came to a stop as Hardy panted.

  “You good?” Hardy asked, but I didn’t hear Silvie’s reply.

  However, a few moments later I heard the music get louder as the kitchen door swung open, and then I looked up as the sound of footsteps got louder.

  “You okay, kiddo?” Silvie asked as she poked her head around the door.

  “Yeah,” I replied, standing up.

  She came toward me and pulled me into her arms, and I let her, because being hugged by Silvie was almost like being hugged by my mom. She wore the same perfume as she had, and she was the same height and build. If I closed my eyes and drowned out the world, I could almost pretend that things were how they should have been and I was back home watching The Wonder Years with Mom. But soon enough the world came crashing in and brought me back out of my fantasy.

  “You know you can always come to me, don’t you?” Silvie asked, looking down into my face. “If something’s bothering you, or you need something.”

  “I’m fine, I just needed some space.”

  “Okay, well, in that case I’ll leave you to it.” She turned and grabbed one of the trays of buns and then backed away. “Unless you want to grab a tray of steaks from the refrigerator and come help out? You’re not supposed to be here, so I can’t promise you can stay for long, but it has to be better than sitting in here alone.”

  “Sure, I can help,” I replied quickly with a smile. I grabbed the tray of steaks but Silvie swapped with me and then I followed Silvie out of the kitchen, hoping I could avoid Gauge and stay a little longer. Either way, I was out of beer and couldn’t stay in the kitchen all night.

  We left the kitchen and headed through the clubhouse and out to the large yard, where the barbeque was. People were everywhere, the party in full swing by then. Women were wearing practically nothing, men were drinking beer and talking, or fucking. Fires had been lit for atmosphere as much as warmth, and it gave the whole party a dirty, seedy look.

  “Stick close to me,” Silvie said when she noticed I was dragging behind a little, so I hurried to catch up.

  I had heard about biker parties, so I knew what to expect—at least in theory—but hearing about them and being at them were two very different things, and I found myself staring at everything as we walked. For an almost-eighteen-year-old whose mother was a prostitute, I suddenly felt a little intimidated by so much naked flesh on display.

  I blushed, and when I looked up Silvie was grinning. “You’ll get used to it,” she said. “Trust me, this is nothing compared to what happens when the women go home.”

  “Does it not bother you?” I asked, watching a woman in the corner drop to her knees and start unzipping Skinny’s jeans. I looked away as he smiled at me, because yeah, I remembered the way he had looked at me the first time we’d met. He was bare-chested, and full of muscles, and I watched them move as he grabbed the woman’s head and shove it against his crotch, his eyes never leaving mine the entire time. I looked away, my cheeks flushing hot.

  “No, Hardy is the president of the club and he’s my old man, pretty much. He has a lot of pressure on him, and I understand that, and he’d never do anything with someone else while I was here, and what I don’t know can’t hurt me.”

  I shook my head. “I would want my man to be faithful to me,” I replied matter-of-factly. “I wouldn’t care who he was.”

  Silvie stopped and turned to me, her expression suddenly serious. “I know it’s hard for you, it always is for newcomers, but I trust Hardy not to do anything stupid, and it’s me that he comes home to every night. I’m happy with that.”

  I looked down, embarrassed—not just because I had spoken out disrespectfully to her, but because I was embarrassed for Silvie as well. Because I meant what I’d said: my man would be with me and me only. I knew my worth, and it was more than what she gave herself credit for.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” I said, though I wasn’t really sorry at all.

  “That’s all right,” she replied and we kept on walking.

  We placed the food on a large table that had been set up, and I watched Pops flip a couple of steaks like an old pro.

  “This the last?” he asked Silvie, his gaze sliding to me briefly before he frowned. “Should she still be here?”

  Silvie looked at me with a concerned look, and I felt instant guilt in case I’d gotten her into trouble.

  “Yeah, she’s with me, helping out,” Silvie replied, covering for me, even though she knew damn well that Gauge wouldn’t want me
there. She winked at me and turned back to Pops, and I decided that I liked her even more.

  I had started opening up the burger buns, ready to put the burgers on, when a large hand reached out and grabbed my ass, before squeezing it harshly. I yelped and looked up as shock covered Silvie’s face.

  “All right, sweet thing! That ass is tight!” someone whistled from behind me, and I turned around to punch whoever it was in the face as they grabbed another handful. “Why don’t you bend over for me, pretty thing?”

  But when I turned around, it wasn’t some greasy no-named biker that I didn’t know, it was Gauge—my dad—and we both looked horrified and disgusted as the other. I backed up a step as he wiped his hand down his jeans as if he could wipe away the feel of my ass from his palm.

  “Laney! What the fuck are you still doing here?” he bellowed, suddenly sober as a judge.

  “Having fun, asshole. Or I was until you turned up!” I yelled back at him. “God, you’re such a pervert!”

  “I didn’t fucking know it was you!” he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air and almost spilling the beer in his other hand.

  Gauge was standing with two other bikers that I couldn’t remember the names of, but both of them were laughing hysterically as if this was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.

  I cocked an eyebrow at him and glared at the other two. “As if that makes a difference, Gauge!”

  “Of course it makes a fucking difference, Laney. I can grab any ass I want, except yours. So yeah, big fucking difference!” He looked like he was about to blow a gasket.

  “It shouldn’t matter, because you shouldn’t be such a fucking pervert and be grabbing women’s asses all the time. Ever heard of consent?”

  “Ever heard of shut the fuck up because you’re a kid who doesn’t know what you’re talking about?” he retorted angrily, throwing his beer to the ground.

  We’d started to get attention from other people now, and I could feel their stares on us, which only made the situation ten times worse. Not only had he caught me at the party I wasn’t supposed to be at, but he’d grabbed my ass—disgusting us both—and now we were seconds away from ripping each other apart.

  “Eat shit!” I screamed, and grabbed the nearest thing to me and threw it at him, and suddenly thirty empty burger buns—and the tray they were on—were raining down on Gauge’s head.

  Gauge roared in anger and stepped forward, but Hardy came over and dived in-between us both.

  He placed a hand on Gauge’s chest. “Gauge! Enough, she’s just a fucking kid!” Hardy bellowed, pushing Gauge away from me.

  “I am not a fucking kid!” I screamed at Hardy.

  He turned and glared at me, one hand staying on Gauge’s chest. “Yeah? Then stop fucking acting like one.”

  Gauge glared at me over Hardy’s shoulder. “Should have fucking left you to go into care,” he snarled out darkly.

  “I wish you would have!” I screamed at the top of my voice.

  “Bitch, just like your goddamn mother,” he snarled nastily, and I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying out as his words cut me.

  Suddenly no one was laughing. This wasn’t just a father and daughter arguing; this was worse than that, and I couldn’t help the tight knot that wrapped itself around my heart and squeezed. He didn’t even look like he regretted his words, so I lifted my chin and narrowed my eyes, refusing to acknowledge the pain his words had caused me.

  “I wish she would never have met you, because you’re a piece of shit man and an even shittier dad,” I snarled back, not feeling any satisfaction from saying that despite the hurt I watched flare to life in his own eyes.

  “Yeah?” he goaded.

  “Yeah!” I snarled.

  “Good, because I’m hoping you’ll get the fuck out of my life soon then!”

  I opened my mouth to say something but realized that for once my temper had given up, and all it had left behind was a hole in my chest. Tears blurred my vision but I refused to let them fall.

  “Silvie, get her the fuck out of here,” Hardy yelled, and I felt someone grab my arm and start to pull me away.

  “I’ve got her,” Silvie said.

  “Crazy bitches everywhere,” Hardy muttered as Silvie pulled me away.

  Gauge called me something else as I was leaving, but I drowned him out, refusing to hear anything else he had to say. He’d said and done enough damage for one night. We both had.

  Silvie’s grip was firm, but not tight, and when we were far enough away she let go of me completely, trusting me to follow her and not run back to Gauge for round two. We walked toward the exit. A couple of prospects were standing by the bikes, and they looked between themselves as we got closer.

  “One of you needs to take Laney home, please,” Silvie said firmly. She looked down at me apologetically. “You need anything, you call me. Okay?”

  I nodded okay and looked back down at my feet, knowing that no matter how much I cared about Silvie, I wouldn’t call her. I could handle it on my own, just like I always had.

  “I’m fine,” I mumbled.

  “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” she said softly, her hand reaching down to tug my chin upwards.

  “I said I’m fine! Stop treating me like a kid. I’m practically eighteen, Silvie,” I said, pulling my face free. “I just want to go home.”

  And I did want to go home. But not to Gauges house. I wanted to go back to Cali, back to my mom. I wanted to be home with her, not there in that shit-hole town, or that shit-hole club, with my shit-hole dad. But I could never go back home again, and that killed me the most.

  “Well all right then,” she said, and I knew that I’d offended her, again. “Which of you can take her?”

  “I’ll take her,” a deep voice said from close by.

  I looked up, recognizing the voice instantly. My face was still puckered in anger and frustration, and I looked straight into the eyes of the blue-eyed boy that had stalked my dreams for so long. No, boy was the wrong word. He wasn’t a boy anymore, he was a man now. And damn, what a man he was. His hair was shoulder length and dirty blond, and he had a short rough beard that just begged me to run my fingers over it. His arms were thick and roped with muscles and tattoos, and his shoulders were wide and strong.

  “You sure, Jesse?” Silvie asked. “You been drinking?”

  Please say yes, please say…

  “Sure, it’s fine,” he replied, barely looking at me. “I haven’t had anything to drink yet. I only just got back into town.”

  “You good with that, Laney?” she asked, looking at me doubtfully, but I nodded quickly—possibly too quickly, because I saw the corner of her mouth crinkle up in a knowing smirk and her uncertainty vanished. “Okay, get her home safely, and Laney, let me know if you need me. I’m always here for you, sweetheart.”

  I nodded again, watching as she walked away and feeling awful for how I had just spoken to her. She was just trying to be nice—just trying to help me—and it was a lot more than most people had ever done for me. But as usual, I’d pushed her away like I did with everyone else. I sighed and took a deep breath knowing I would have to speak to her tomorrow and apologize.

  I finally looked up at Jesse. I was short and he was tall, and I had an athletic, slender frame where he was broad and bulky; we looked almost comical standing together. He looked down at me, his deep blue eyes roaming over my body and back up to my face, his jaw twitching as he clenched and unclenched it. Something hot blossomed to life inside of me and I looked away, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden, as if he could see the things he did to my body without even touching me.

  Ughhh, I’m pathetic.

  “You want me to take her in the truck, Jesse?” one of the prospects asked, his gaze wandering over my body like Skinny’s had.

  Jesse scowled, his expression hardening until the prospect took a small step back. He looked back down at me. “Come on, my bike’s this way,” he said, wrapping his hand around my bicep and tuggi
ng me. He let me go after several steps, but I could still feel his grip on me, the way his fingers had squeezed a little too tightly—almost possessively, as if he wanted to get me away from the other men—and the way his rough skin had felt on mine.

  I let him guide me over to his bike, my gaze fixated on the sway of his hips as he walked and the firmness of his ass, and I practically walked right into his back when he came to a stop and turned to look at me.

  “You okay?” he asked, a small laugh in his words.

  “Umm, yeah, I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head. “Just tired is all. It’s been a long day.”

  He climbed on his bike, one long leg stretching over to the other side, and then he watched me, waiting for me to climb on behind him. He handed me a helmet and I wrapped my arms around his middle, almost tentatively until he grabbed my hands and pulled them tighter—tight enough to feel the bands of muscle around his waist.

  “Hold on tight,” he said, his voice rumbling through his chest.

  And I did.

  I held on as if my life depended on it. I pressed my face against his back, taking in his scent of old leather and musk and sweat, and I watched the world pass me in a blur. I got lost in the sensations of the bike and of Jesse, the humming of the bike through my legs and the feel of his muscles tight under my hands, rippling with every corner we went round. I got lost in the ride, but mostly I got lost in Jesse. It was just what I needed to clear my head and soothe my heart.

  When he pulled up to Gauge’s house twenty minutes later, I was breathless and I held onto him tightly, not ready for it to end just yet. My cheeks felt flushed, my adrenaline pumping even though for the first time in years I felt calm and relaxed. It was Jesse, I realized. He calmed me—my soul. He made me feel safe, and like I belonged. And for the first time since moving there, I realized that I wasn’t homesick and I didn’t feel lonely.

  “We’re here.” His deep voice cut through the thoughts in my head, and his hand reached down to give my knee a small squeeze, his hand staying on my skin. A shiver trailed up my body and I swallowed, loving the feel of him next to me.