Bad Boys for Hire: Ryker (Bad Boys for Hire #1) (11 page)

T
erri’s tongue
felt too big for her mouth, and her head was fuzzy and woozy. She was flat on her back with a pillow under her head. The sheets she lay on were satiny, and a strong scent of cinnamon mixed with cedar wood made her nose tickle.

She tried raising her hand to scratch her nose, but it would not budge. Her eyelids were stuck together, and her mouth wouldn’t move. Where was she?

Wasn’t she supposed to go on a date with the proctologist? Dr. Frisk or something like that? Had he kidnapped her and drugged her? Where was Ryker?

She tried quieting her mind and concentrating on her surroundings. Maybe she was in the hospital. What if she’d suffered a stroke? Everything was dark, and she couldn’t tell if her eyes were opened or closed.

Her mind drifted, and she fought the heaviness threatening to pull her under. Panic welled in her heart, as she struggled to take even breaths.

The faint chirping of crickets told her she was outside of the city. The air was cool enough, but not freezing, so she was most likely in some kind of shelter.

The sound of heavy footsteps and the whirring of an electronic motor approached. Terri held her breath to concentrate on hearing more.

“You sure she’s going to be okay?” Her father’s voice drifted through the fog in her mind. He sounded as if he were far away, or she had cotton over her ears.

“It’s a short acting dose, just enough to get us through the funeral.” Her mother cackled. “I can’t wait to see the faces of those Metal Wolves.”

“They ain’t stupid,” Dad growled. “They’ll sense a trap.”

“You worry too much. Our informant told us they’re on their way. The old man, Ernie, and all his sons.”

“Great. I have all our men in place. They won’t get far.”

“They’ll be armed,” her mother reminded. “But we have snipers in the rafters.”

Rafters? Where the hell was she?

Terri twitched her nose, but the scent of cinnamon and cedar was too strong. Her nose itched, and she felt a sneeze coming on.

“Muh … Mom,” she uttered, trying to clear her throat.

Her parents continued talking, and the footsteps receded further away. Why weren’t they helping her? Why was she in a bed with snipers in the rafters?

Her fingers unfroze enough for her to move them. The satiny material underneath her was stiff and ruffled, almost like it was a lining for a jewelry box. She pressed down and found the edges hard, like wood or metal.

She was gradually able to raise her hand to her chest. She was wearing something with tiny smooth beads and gauze. Was this the dress her mother had bought for her to go on the date with the doctor?

He’d done something to her, and her parents were in on it. Had to be. They wanted to trap Ryker and his family. Terri’s heart raced. She had to get out and warn them. But how?

Her one hand raised and hit something hard like a lid. Was she inside a box? Was that why it was so dark? She bumped the lid again, and panic seized her veins.

She was dead, or her parents believed her to be dead. She was inside a casket. It all made sense now. The satiny sides, the beautiful dress, the veil over her face?

Was she in a wedding dress?

Terri raised her hand again and thumped. But the noise sounded too faint, even to her ears. She tried to kick, willing her feet to move. Thump.

The deep throated roar of a million Harleys drowned her out.

No, no, no! Ryker and his family had arrived. Terri twisted and turned, and this time, both hands worked. She tried to scream, tried to make noise. Anything to warn her dear Ryker to get away.

Snipers in the rafters.

Murder.

Revenge.

Help!

Her heels and palms connected with the coffin as she wiggled and squirmed.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Unfortunately, a hail of gunfire deafened her ears, and no one was paying attention to the wiggling coffin she was trapped inside.

R
yker took
cover behind a water trough and returned fire, picking off a man with a rifle perched in the hayloft.

Guns blazed from his family. Another man fell, and he heard a strangled cry from behind him.

“Cover me,” Ryker yelled to his father. Wherever Terri was, he wanted to sweep the barn and make sure she was safe.

“Don’t go in there. Let’s set fire to the barn and kill them all.” Pops wore a maniacal grin on his face. “I brought the explosives. Just got to get them to stop shooting so I can set up.”

“Terri might be in there.” Ryker took a step, but was driven back by bullets clinking over the metal trough.

His father returned a barrage of gunfire, and Ryker slipped toward the side of the barn. Maybe Terri wasn’t inside and the note was a ruse. Pops was sure Terri was behind this—that she was the mastermind and deserved to die.

No way would she hurt him. She wasn’t built that way—unlike her father, the double-crossing boss who’d smiled in his face at work and had now set up this ambush.

Ryker rolled on the ground, barely missed getting hit. He crept forward in the shadows and crawled under a rickety stable fence.

Bales of hay were piled behind the stable. Ryker scrambled to the top and peered into the window. Everything was dark except for a spotlight trained on an altar of sorts. A metallic coffin lay on the altar surrounded by stands of funeral flowers.

Ryker’s heart seized as he recognized the name on the banners. Teresa Terkel. Despite his training, tears welled into his eyes. Had someone gotten to her while he was regaling his father with the fake story of her death? Who would have been the rat who’d sniffed them out?

Or was this all staged to trap his family?

“What are you doing up there, boy?” The gruff voice of Terri’s father sounded behind him, and a hand clapped over his shoulder. “Drop your weapons.”

Ryker turned, stunned, as the man yanked him off the bales of hay. His wheelchair was nowhere in sight, and he was standing on his own two legs.

The muzzle of a gun pressed against Ryker’s temple.

Truth? He could take the old man easily, gun or no gun, but Terri was more important.

Ryker dropped his gun and held up his hands. “Where’s Terri? What did you do to her?”

“She’s safe. Turn around and call off your men. Nice and slow.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. I gave my word,” Ryker said.

“Doesn’t matter. Your father’s out there shooting at us, and he’ll keep coming after us. Move it.”

Ryker kept his hands up and moved slowly so he was in view of his family. “Everyone, cease fire!”

“Drop your weapons or he dies,” Terri’s father yelled. “Everyone march into the barn, single file.”

“Hell no, Terkel,” Ryker’s father called out.

“I’m counting to three, or your son dies,” Terkel replied.

“Do as he says,” Ryker shouted. To Terkel, he said, “Is Terri safe? Who’s in that casket?”

Terkel shoved him forward, the gun still held firmly to Ryker’s temple. He glared at Ryker’s family. “I don’t have all day or night. Say goodbye to your boy.”

One by one, his brothers and the prospects marched toward the barn door with their hands up. The bearded man who’d accosted them at Club Rachelle frisked them, throwing their hidden weapons onto a pile.

“You better not hurt my family,” Ryker said. “I gave my word to protect Terri. If you kill them, I will kill you.” Ryker growled at Terkel.

“Not if I kill you first.”

“Then you kill your daughter’s heart. I love her. I’ve told you that. I’ve put myself and my family at a disadvantage. You think I can’t at this moment turn the gun on you, old man?”

“Shut up and get in the barn.” Terkel kicked the back of Ryker’s leg.

“Why aren’t you in a wheelchair?” Ryker couldn’t think of anything else to say. Strange how calm he felt going to his doom. Maybe it was because his Terri was safe. If Terkel won, at least Terri would live—unless she was already dead, and this was a revenge ploy.

“You’ll do exactly as I say.” Terkel removed the gun from Ryker’s temple. “Go up to the casket and lift the lid.”

Ryker marched up the aisle between his brothers and father who each stood with a Storm Demon pointing a gun at them.

“Do something,” his father hissed. “You’re a Marine. Don’t you have no cojones?”

The lights turned on, and the sound of organ music filled the barn. Wagner’s
Bridal Chorus
echoed through the barn. Terri’s mother appeared on the arm of a Storm Demon. She was led to a folded metal chair in front of the coffin. From the other side of the barn, his mother entered, escorted by a Metal Wolf prospect.

What the hell? Was that guy a traitor or what? He was one of the men who had stood outside guarding the bikes.

“Go ahead, lift the lid of the casket.” Terri’s father prodded him. “Just so you know, it’s bullet proof, so no funny business.”

The music segued to the traditional
Wedding March
, full and majestic. By now, Ryker was sure what he’d find. If Terri had planned this, she was a genius. It meant she’d found a way for them to be married without too much mayhem.

“What about the wounded?” Ryker turned to face Terri’s father. “We need to get medical care for them.”

“All taken care of. You didn’t see the ambulances standing by? Go and claim your bride.” A triumphant smirk settled on the older man’s face. “You have my permission to marry her.”

Ryker’s heart leaped to his throat, and a bubble of happiness welled from his chest. He leaned over at the front of the barn and kissed his mother. “Thank you for being here.”

“I had no choice,” she said. “Go ahead and end the war.”

He peeked at Terri’s mother, but she sat stone faced and didn’t acknowledge him. Likely, she had no choice but to follow the orders of her old man.

Ryker straightened himself and pulled the lapels of his leather jacket in place. In two steps he was in front of the casket.

Terri’s muffled voice called, “Let me out of here. Someone, help!”

“I’m here, my love.” He lifted the lid, and his heart stopped.

She was beautiful. Veiled, rosy cheeked, and gorgeous, like Sleeping Beauty awakened. The wedding dress was crumpled, and her hands were bruised from pounding on the lid, but she was alive and well.

“Ryker, I don’t know what happened. I thought I died, and no one was letting me out.”

“Let me kiss you and make it all okay,” he said, lifting the veil.

“Ahem, no kissing the bride until after the wedding,” Terri’s father said.

“Bride? Who me?” Terri exclaimed, looking around. “Dad, Mom, why didn’t you help me?”

Ryker’s stomach clenched. If she was as surprised as he, it meant her parents had set this scheme up. Were they really going to let the two of them marry? Or was this a way to finish his family off once and for all? Had he been stupid to lead his entire family to their doom?

Terri needed him. Whatever happened, he had to make sure she was safe.

He lifted her from the coffin and hugged her. “I have no idea what’s going on, but if you’re going to marry me, let’s get this done.”

He set her on her feet, but she wobbled, and she wasn’t wearing any shoes, only white stockings.

“You drugged her?” Ryker turned to glare at Terri’s parents.

“She wouldn’t have cooperated,” her mother said, shooting an acid glare at him. “Let’s get this over with.”

Oh no. Ryker was going to do this right. There was no getting over something as important as a wedding.

He dropped to his knees, still holding Terri around the waist and giving her his support. “Are you okay, babe?”

“I’m kind of woozy, but yes. If you’re okay, I’m okay.” She blinked. “I was so scared when I heard the shooting. I was afraid my parents set up an ambush and you’d be killed.”

“We walked into a trap, but I had to make sure you were okay. I would rather die than see you be hurt.” Ryker took her hand and caressed it. “I love you, Terri Martin, and even though this wedding isn’t planned, at least by me and you, if you’ll have me, will you marry me?”

“I love you, too, Ryker.” She bit her lip, smearing her lipstick, and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I will, but I want my friends here, too. Jolie, Nikki, Leanna, and Sherelle. Can we wait until I’m not so dizzy?”

“No,” Terri’s father interrupted. “We have to do it now. Once you’re his old lady, his entire family has to protect you, and that includes the Metal Wolves. Not all of them are here, and if you walk out of this barn without being Ryker’s wife, your life is still in danger, as is ours.”

“Don’t do it, Ryker,” his father growled. “Thorn was shot and taken to the hospital.”

“So was Blake,” Terri’s father replied. “He’s my nephew. We have to end it now. So shut your trap.”

“Oh, yeah? If it weren’t for my son here, I’d blow your entire barn to smithereens,” Ryker’s father shouted. “You have to pay for Earl’s death.”

“We’ve had our deaths, too,” Terkel shouted back and snapped his fingers at one of the men standing by. “Show him what we have on him and his boys.”

One of the Metal Wolves, the same prospect who had been guarding the bikes, stepped forward. He lowered his sunglasses and opened his vest.

He was wearing an FBI agent’s badge.

Ryker took a step back. This had to have been a sting.

“I’m Agent Warren Wayne,” the man said. He extracted a folder from his vest and opened it. It was full of photos. He flashed it in front of Ryker’s father’s face. “Your sons are going to jail. Cuff them.”

“What the hell?” Exclamations punctured the air along with the clicks of handcuffs.

“Ryker, you knew about this?”

“You squealed on us?”

“Ryker didn’t know,” Warren said. “He’s the only one of you with clean hands. Terkel has been working with us to clean up the motorcycle clubs. Unfortunately, you boys decided you were above the law.”

“This blows.”

“Fuck this.”

Ryker’s brother’s shouts were drowned out by the rumble of a new set of Harleys cutting off outside the barn.

“You can either stay for your brother’s wedding or get hauled off now,” Warren said. “But you better behave for the ladies.”

Squeals and high pitched chatter combined with
Pachelbel’s Canon
from the sound system. Terri’s friends rushed in, all dressed in hideous looking bright orange dresses full of ruffles.