Bad Boys for Hire: Ryker (Bad Boys for Hire #1) (5 page)

R
yker hated
the way he’d left Terri with that hell on wheels mother. That was almost as bad as the time he was caught kissing the underaged daughter of the president of a rival motorcycle club. It hadn’t mattered that he was ten and she was older, or that she’d been the one to lead him behind the barn at a rally and show him her tits.

What was he supposed to do when she asked him to kiss them? They were the first tits he’d ever seen up close, pink nipples like strawberry ice cream over beautiful white globes. Of course he’d complied and kissed them and yes, he was guilty of touching and fondling them.

But he’d been caught by the girl’s father. Nothing happened right away, but the next night, the Storm Demons retaliated and set fire to his father’s garage, destroying half the club’s bikes.

Once his father found out Ryker was the reason for the war, he was beaten and made to sleep in the burnt out garage for a month while their club, the Metal Wolves, sought revenge.

The war had escalated until his father set fire to a meth lab operated by the Storm Demons. The explosion killed almost the entire membership, and the ensuing shootout claimed lives on both sides, including his eldest brother and heir to the club.

His father was tried and found guilty of arson and manslaughter and sentenced to life in prison, but he continued to direct their lives from behind bars. Ryker’s brothers took over the hierarchy, and Ryker was trained in all the arts of war: shooting, sniping, knife fights, and martial arts with a single objective.

Vengeance against the Storm Demons, starting with their president, Terror Terkel.

Five years ago, the plan had been put in place. Ryker’s father had gotten wind from an informer that the president was hiding in plain sight as a war veteran.

He’d changed his name, bought respectability with his family’s money, and was no longer associated with the motorcycle club. That hadn’t mattered to Ryker’s father or brothers. The orders still stood.

Find Terror Terkel and make him watch as the Metal Wolves tortured and killed his eldest child—the same girl he’d kissed in the back of that barn. Ryker was the cause of the war, and therefore Ryker had to mete out the punishment. Even his mother had agreed.

Instead of following orders, Ryker broke with the motorcycle club and turned his back on his brothers. He destroyed the paperwork pointing to Terkel’s identity and sent a warning to him through Axe, telling him about the snitch.

He then joined the Marines, intending on staying in war zones overseas for the rest of his life. He’d be one of the good guys. He’d save lives, not take lives. He’d rescue hostages and keep civilians safe.

Except now that he was back, his mother and brothers had started the war again. They wanted revenge and if he wasn’t going to take it, they’d step up and settle the score themselves.

Add to that, the remaining members of the Storm Demons had regrouped and had taken over some of the businesses along the coast. They’d also vowed revenge for their dead, and rumor had it that they had a large arsenal of weapons bought by an unnamed donor.

Which meant it wasn’t safe to be a Metal Wolf or a Slade or anyone associated with them—especially for an innocent woman whose only fault was being too big-hearted and kind for her own good.

Ryker rode hard and fast, turning down La Honda Road. There was no time to luxuriate in the glow of the best sex he’d ever had, or to fixate on the gorgeous woman he would have loved to hold for the rest of the night.

He shouldn’t have left Terri there with her mother, but he had no choice. Despite the gray hair, the added pounds, and sagging skin, the sneer on Terri’s mother’s face seared through his memory.

It was the same woman who’d grabbed him by the ear after the rally and dragged him into the women’s room, then humiliated him by repeatedly shoving his head into the toilet and kicking his balls until he’d begged for mercy.

That night, he’d lost his innocence and swore revenge—not to Terror Terkel, but to the bitch who was his old lady.

I
nstead of collapsing
in the corner and inhaling a gallon of ice cream, Terri called in the cavalry: Jolie, Nikki, Sherelle, and Leanna.

They came bearing gifts: chocolate, tea, wine, tissues, cookies, popcorn, and movies. They crowded around Terri on the large sectional and listened while Terri kicked herself for how stupid she was.

“I should have gone by my instincts.” She threw her hands up dramatically. “He was too good to be true.”

“What really happened?” Jolie gave her a sympathetic hug. “You say he showed up to work and then you guys came here for dinner?”

“He scarfed up my lasagna and half the raspberry brownies.”

“That’s horrible.” Sherelle cast a glance at the kitchen. “I love those raspberry brownies. Are there any left?”

“There was until my mother showed up. Right as Ryker was leaving.”

“Oh no. That’s awful,” Nikki joined the chorus of concerned friends. “Did your mother figure out he’s a biker?”

“She took one look at him and decided he’s vermin. Biker scum. Ryker couldn’t zoom out of here fast enough.”

“Hasn’t your mother ever heard of boundaries?” Sherelle wagged her finger. “Seriously, you need to put a stop to her barging in.”

“At least she didn’t catch us.” Terri’s face reddened at the thought of what her mother could have walked in on.

“Doing what?” Jolie’s expression sharpened with interest. “Don’t tell me you slept with him. Did he attack you?”

“No, I kind of threw myself at him.” Terri hiccupped and hid her face at the shame of it all. Still, nothing felt better than unloading with her besties. Having them here muted the hurt. They always had her back and could make her laugh even in her most dire straits.

“Was he any good?” Leanna leaned forward, finally paying attention.

“Leanna!” Sherelle snapped. “It doesn’t matter whether he was good or not. He walked out on Terr and that’s bad.”

“I know he’s bad news, but if he was good in bed, at least Terri had a better evening than we did sitting around browsing dress designs,” Leanna said. “You should see the ruffles on the one I picked.”

Ruffles were the least of Terri’s concerns. Fine. She’d lost the bet, but Leanna didn’t have to gloat.

“He was awesome. Huge, hard, and furious.” Terri lifted her head to do some gloating. “Perfect. He even cuddled with me afterwards. Everything was great until he went to clean up.” A flurry of tears flooded back into her eyes. “It was like a switch flipped, and when he got dressed, he decided he had to bail.”

“Maybe he had somewhere he had to go.” Nikki crowded in and patted Terri’s back. “Somehow I’m not buying the homeless vet story. Whoever heard of a homeless guy with a vintage Harley?”

“He says his buddy kept it for him while he was deployed,” Terri said. “But you’re right. He’s definitely hiding something.”

“Maybe he’s a serial killer on the run,” Leanna said. “You should count your lucky stars that he left.”

“Oh, stop making her feel worse.” Jolie gave Leanna a shove. “I can see it now. You’re trying to be next in line.”

“Am not.” Leanna’s lower lip jutted and her eyes flashed darkly. “I don’t steal boyfriends.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Terri flung the damp tissue across the room. “I just don’t know why I felt a connection when there obviously wasn’t one. My bad.”

“You’re too kind hearted,” Nikki said. “That’s not a bad thing. But you do have to guard your heart better.”

“Next time, play hard to get.” Sherelle, ever the wise one, crossed her arms authoritatively. “Get him wondering why you’re not interested.”

“At least he showed his true colors quickly,” Jolie said. “It’s better to get it over with. He shoots. He scores. He stinks.”

“You’re too good for him anyways.” Nikki picked up the TV remote. “What do you guys want to watch?”

“Not
27 Dresses
,” Terri huffed. “And nothing wedding related.”

“But that would be my entire collection,” Jolie said, flipping through her stack of discs. “
My Best Friend’s Wedding
,
Made of Honor
,
The Wedding Date
,
Something Borrowed
 …”

“Enough wedding talk.” Terri put up her hand. “I concede the ruffles. With my luck, I’ll look like a Thanksgiving turkey at a harvest hoedown. How about we go out for a drink? That's how guys deal with stress.”

“Anywhere in particular?” Jolie bounced off the sectional. “Shall we go to a biker bar? Maybe we’ll see him there.”

“Yes, let’s find out why he had to leave so quickly,” Leanna said. “Maybe he had to do a drug deal.”

“Hey, I can have him investigated,” Jolie said. “Warren knows some bikers who hang out at Club Rachelle. He’s there tonight doing undercover work.”

Warren was Jolie’s fiancé and a narc investigating the meth trade in the backwoods of Silicon Valley.

“Won’t that be dangerous?” Sherelle said. “You might bust his cover.”

“Nonsense,” Jolie said. “We’ll pretend we don’t know each other, but he’ll have our backs. I’ll text him and let him know we’re on our way.”

“I don’t know about this,” Nikki said. “Biker bars might be dangerous. Don’t they have turf wars and such?”

“Not as much as before,” Jolie reassured. “Besides, Warren and his guys will be there so we have nothing to worry about.”

“Coolio!” Leanna wiggled her shoulders. “Nothing gets me hotter than ink and leather.”

“Everything gets you hot,” Sherelle noted. “I might as well tag along and make sure you girls stay out of trouble.”

“Stay out of trouble?” Leanna hooted. “Trouble is exactly what we’re looking for, right Terr?”

“You betcha.” Terri pumped her fist. She was done with the tears and the moping about a guy who rang all her bells. She’d chalk it up to the school of hard knocks. Her body was still on overdrive with the aftershocks from the hard knocks Ryker had pumped into her. Too bad. He could have been a keeper.

Part of Terri wanted to curl up in bed and sulk, but as her father had always said, it was better to get right back on the bike after a spill.

Poor Dad, Terri thought as she pulled on a pair of yoga pants. Not only was he stuck with Mom, he could never get back on a bike again.

R
yker unlatched
his ankle holster so he could whip out his handgun with minimum interference. Just in case. Club Rachelle was a no-fight-zone mainly because Axe had the muscle and connections to enforce his rules. He’d always been the guy behind the scenes, the bartender who collected information along with his tips. He stored that information in safe places with enough smoking guns to put away half the county should anything ever happen to him.

A row of Harleys lined the area directly in front of the entrance, with another row across the street. Each motorcycle club had their unofficial parking area, and woe to any newb who decided to insert his bike where it didn’t belong.

Ryker quickly zeroed in on a couple of probes or prospects hanging around watching the bikes. A chill raised the hairs on the back of his neck when he spotted the Metal Wolves insignia on several of the bikes.

Fortunately, he saw no signs of the Storm Demons, or what was left of them. He parked his Harley around the corner between two cars and walked slowly past the probes. He wasn’t wearing any patches or colors, just a plain leather jacket, but he could feel their eyes glued to his back as he opened the door and entered the bar.

Pockets of people sat along the curved chrome bar on black leather barstools backed by sissy bars or at the booths along the back wall. A large metallic sculpture of a Harley hung suspended above the bar, and portraits of female tattooed backs decorated the walls above the booths.

His brothers had taken a corner booth where they had a clear view of everyone coming and going. They spotted him at the exact same time as their faces darkened with scowls and their brows drew over their hooded eyes.

Ryker headed over at a fierce pace, pushing aside a group of biker chicks who tried to chat him up. He’d been shirking a confrontation, but now that he knew who was at stake, he had to end it here, now.

“So, the whelp has finally come home,” his second eldest brother, Drake, announced to the guffaws of his next two elder brothers, Thorn, and Maddox. “When are you going to man up and take out your own trash?”

“I’m not doing it. Period.” Ryker placed his hands on the table and leaned over them. “When are you guys going to man up and stand on your own?”

“You need us. We’re family, but you turned your back on us.” Drake rose to his full height.

“I turned my back on murder.”

“Vengeance is not murder,” Drake growled, leaning into his face. “You want back into the family, you gotta prove yourself all over again. No free ride.”

“I’m not here to get my patch back or ride with you. I’m telling you to stop the feud. Stop letting Pops ride you guys. He’s the one with the grudge.”

“You forgot about Earl so soon?” Drake tightened his voice into a low rasp.

Earl was their oldest brother, with a cruel streak as deep and mean as their father’s. Ryker well remembered the beatings he’d gotten from Earl, as well as the trickle down beatings where Earl would punch Drake who would take it out on Thorn, who’d kick Maddox, who’d wail on Ryker.

Being the youngest in his family sucked.

“I haven’t forgotten Earl, but he helped Pops light up that barn. Most of the Storm Demons died that night.”

“Except for Terkel himself. He ambushed us, shot Earl, and got away scot-free.”

“So, he’s out of the life. Good for him.”

Drake pushed Ryker. “He needs to be brought to justice. He needs to watch his own flesh and blood die. That girl you were kissing? That’s his only child. She must be around thirty by now. That’s seventeen years he’s had his daughter and seventeen years we don’t have Earl. I say it’s high time we take her out.”

“No. She’s innocent. The war stops with me.” Ryker stood his ground. “It’s my duty to take out Terkel and his family, but I absolve them. I won’t do it.”

The brothers stared long and hard at Ryker.

Usually, he would back down, being the runt of the family, but the stakes were too high, and running away hadn’t solved a thing. The desire for vengeance had festered and eaten at all the Slades like a colony of subterranean termites.

“You’ve gone liberal,” Drake growled deep in his throat. “Like Mom said, if you won’t do the job, we will. And we will go right through you for the kill.”

So much for brotherhood and not hurting one of their own.

“The Storm Demons aren’t sitting ducks,” Ryker reminded them. “They’ve got money and resources. They’ll retaliate. Full fledged war.”

“Good. I can’t wait.” Maddox cracked his knuckles. “Especially with Pops getting out of jail this Friday.”

“Wait.” Ryker’s heart jolted into a panicked gallop. “I thought he was a lifer. Why would they let him out? I’m sure it isn’t for good behavior.”

“It’s not, but he’s old, and the prisons are overcrowded.” Thorn crossed his arms and smirked. “So, you see, little bro, either you get this out of the way, kill them with a quick shot in the head, or Dad goes after them. He’s made a few buddies in San Quentin who’d like nothing better than to toy with them before finishing them off, especially the daughter. She was killer pretty back then, and I bet she’s even hotter now.”

Rage boiled at the thought of anyone hurting Terri. His hackles rose, and he wanted to strike the grin off his brother’s face.

“They’re going to have to go through me.” Ryker clenched his fists. “I sure as hell am not going to let any of you so much as touch a hair on her head.”

“Really?” Drake lifted one of his bushy eyebrows. “You speak as if you know her.”

“No, I don’t,” Ryker said. “But as a Marine, I took an oath to protect the innocent, and Terror’s daughter didn’t do the shooting.”

“Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth,” Maddox said. “Terror started it when he torched our garage.”

There was no use arguing with his brothers. They were still stuck in the way of the Hatfields and McCoys—the ancient way of blood feuds. It mattered little to them that Terri was an innocent bystander. She was a way to hurt her parents, and therefore she had to be taken out.

“No one touches the daughter.” Ryker growled through gritted teeth. “Take Terkel down. I don’t care, or even better, get his old lady.”

In what crazy universe could it be that the woman he’d just had the best sex in his life with was the daughter of his worst enemies? He’d been as shocked as shit when he’d recognized Terror’s old lady at Terri’s apartment. Fortunately, she hadn’t shown any signs of remembering him—it helped that he was a skinny runt back then.

“We thought Ryker would want the privilege,” Drake drawled, looking around at Thorn and Maddox. “But the whelp’s gone soft—gone to the Marines. He’s forgotten what it was like to get beaten up by Terror’s old lady.”

“You knew about that?” Ryker’s throat dried and his stomach sickened. That had been the single most embarrassing thing in his entire life. “How long have you known?”

“Mom heard her bragging about it with the other old ladies,” Maddox explained. “That’s why it’s your duty, not just to avenge Earl, but to give the bitch what she had coming to her.”

This time, Ryker’s stomach curdled and anger roiled in his chest. The cold-hearted bitch might have deserved punishment, but not her daughter.

Terri was innocent, kind-hearted, luscious, and white hot.

Terri was his.

“Fine, we run with getting Terkel and his old lady, but no one hurts the daughter.”

“Why’s she so special?” Thorn turned narrowed eyes at Ryker. “I say you know who she is, and you have the hots for her. Spit it out. Who is she and where is she hiding?”

Icy chills grabbed the roots of Ryker’s hair even as cold sweat wet his back. Shit. He hadn’t meant to give anything away.

“I have no clue who or where she is,” Ryker said.

“You’re lying,” Drake pronounced. “You’ve found her and you want to protect her.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ryker forced the words to sound casual. “She’s just some girl I would have forgotten all about if it hadn’t been for the war it sparked.”

“I highly doubt you’d forget that one.” Maddox tried to suppress a chuckle. “You’re not the only one who’s tasted her goods. You’re just the stupid one to get caught.”

Not the only one? Had Terri kissed his brothers, too? Had she done more with them? Even more worrying, would they recognize her all these years later?

He walked away, but hadn’t made it to the exit when he stopped suddenly. Terri and her group of friends were sitting at the far corner of the bar.

Ryker couldn’t stop staring, even though he was endangering her. Terri shone like a bright beacon, her blond hair highlighting her as she laughed and knocked back a shot glass.

A strong hand clamped his shoulder, and he was aware of his brothers encircling him.

“Interesting,” Drake said, shaking him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or is one of those women Teresa Terkel?”

“I bet it’s the blonde,” Thorn said, crowding him to get a better look.

“They’re tourists, can’t you tell?” Ryker unhitched his brother’s hand from his shoulder. “Coming here to slum around with knuckleheads like you and then go back to their country clubs and brag about it.”

“What are we waiting for?” Drake blew in his hands and rubbed them. “Time to initiate a few sweet butts.”

Ryker had no choice but to follow his brothers as they swaggered toward Terri and her friends. If he refused to go, they’d be suspicious, and the only way to keep Terri safe was to keep an eye on her.

He just needed Terri to pretend she didn’t know him, either.