The Last Riders - First Four Votes (107 page)

BOOK: The Last Riders - First Four Votes
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Epilogue
two


W
here is she
?” Vida screamed from the bed.

“She’s right here,” Lily replied, setting her purse down on the chair. “My flight was delayed.”

She went to the other side of the bed, grasping the hand Vida handed her and was immediately squeezed tight. Lily watched the midwife between Vida’s legs and the nurse standing by the necessary equipment. Colton was standing on the other side of the midwife, looking ready to pass out.

Vida screamed.

Lily looked down at her in sympathy. “You do know they invented epidurals just for this purpose?”

“I wanted a natural childbirth. I did it with Lexi and Axel,” Vida panted.

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea then, either,” Lily reminded her.

“I did, too,” Sawyer chimed in.

“Will you two not pick on me when I’m in labor? I know I should have taken the fucking drugs, but it’s too late now.”

The three women looked at the midwife. She nodded back.

Vida’s head fell back as she screamed in pain.

“I don’t remember it hurting this bad,” Lily said, biting her lip in worry for her friend.

“That’s because you took the drugs,” Vida said, grimacing in pain.

“And because your doctor was scared to death of Shade. I thought that doctor was going to have a heart attack by the time you delivered John. That’s why he refused to deliver that one.” She nodded her head at Lily’s protruding belly.

“Shade’s out in the waiting room. Do you want me to go get him?” Lily asked, only half-teasing. Her friend was in a lot of pain.

“No!” everyone in the room yelled.

“Okay.” But if this wasn’t over soon, Lily was going to give the midwife heck herself.

Three hours later, the three of them were fighting over holding the babies. Lily stood, holding one in her arms at the same time that Sawyer sat in the rocking chair, rocking the other one. Their husbands had taken the other children for dinner and were going to bring them all back to the hospital to say goodnight to the babies.

“Have you picked out names yet?” Lily asked, moving toward the bed to lay the baby back in her mother’s arm.

“Yes, I have,” Vida said, clearing her throat.

Sawyer brought the other one back, laying it against her mother’s other side.

“This one,” she nodded toward the baby who Lily had beside her, “is Callie and this one, Sawyer.”

Lily stood, staring down at Vida as she lay on the hospital bed, holding her precious babies. She didn’t know what to say.

Sawyer didn’t have that problem. “That’s going to drive you crazy. You’ll have double tats with the same names.”

Lily sat down on the side of her bed. “Or how about when we go on vacation and we’re all together?”

“I already thought of that,” Vida said ruefully.

“Then why?” Sawyer asked.

“Because I can have it again, and I don’t want to miss that chance,” Vida explained.

“What chance?” Lily asked, reaching out to cover the small, wiggling baby who had kicked off its blanket.

“Watching little girls grow up again together like we did. When I hear them giggling together, I’ll think that’s Callie and Sawyer. When they’re driving me crazy, I’ll think that’s like Sawyer and Callie. But most of all, I couldn’t think of two better namesakes.”

Lily’s finger touched the cheek of her namesake.

“She’s a lucky girl to have both you and Colton as her parents.

“Both of them are,” Sawyer said.

Lily watched as baby Sawyer grasped her namesake’s finger in a tight fist.

“I have something for you, Lily. It’s on the table there.” Vida nodded at the table beside her bed.

Lily got up from the bed, picking up the thick, yellow envelope.

“I found it a couple of months ago when I was cleaning our spare bedroom out for the girls. I had put some stuff in there that was mine and Sawyer’s from our apartment we’d shared. In one of Sawyer’s boxes were her school folders. Her mom had saved all her school stuff. When I looked through it, I found that picture. I’ll understand if you don’t want it.”

Lily looked at her friend to see Vida bury her face in her baby’s neck. Her shoulders were shaking. Her eyes went to Sawyer’s own pained expression.

Lily’s eyes went back to the envelope in her hands, sliding the picture frame out. She gazed down at the picture in her hands. The picture was of the three of them when they were children, sitting at a small table at Sawyer’s apartment. They were obviously playing school. Vida was cutting something, Sawyer was obviously gluing things together, and she was coloring. Sawyer’s mom had taken the picture when the three had been chatting away.

When Lily looked at the picture, she didn’t see the obvious neglect of her dirty hair, clothes that were out of season, or even the bruise on her cheek. All she saw was the love and affection the three little girls shared for each other at that brief second in time.

Lily walked back over, sitting down next to Vida on the bed. “Thank you, Vida. I’ll treasure it. It was the best part of my childhood. Those days of playing with you two were very special to me. I learned everything any child needed from you two; what I hope to pass down to my children, and what I will always thank you for teaching me.”

Lily lay the picture frame down on the bed, reaching for the sweet baby snuggled in Vida’s arms. Her sleeve fell back, revealing the tattoo on the underside of her forearm. Clusters of forget-me-nots clustered around three white Easter lilies with her son’s name, John Wayne; Shade’s name; and Sawyer, Vida’s, and Beth’s, their children’s names written inside the small forget-me-not flowers. Each Easter lily held a different word—Love, Hope and Faith. Only Colton could have given the tat the final touch it needed. Part of the tattoo was shaded, but the other half was enveloped in a golden light carrying the darkness of her pain away forever, leaving behind the birth of a new beginning to be shared with everyone she loved.

Train’s Clash
The Last Rider’s, #8; Biker Bitches, #4
COMING SOON

When two people clash, two series collide.

Prologue

K
illyama juggled
the grocery bag in one hand and a six pack of beer in another as she unlocked the door. It swung inward, and she walked inside, slamming the door with her foot.

“Don’t bother helping,” she snapped at the man lounging on the couch.

He clicked the remote, turning off the television. Then he stood indolently, his tall body only hinting at the muscles underneath the faded denim and T-shirt. He walked across the floor toward her as she set the groceries and beer on the counter.

Turning back toward him, she was met with a hard smack across her face that sent her back against the counter. Her fingers went to the corner of her mouth, coming away with blood.

“You’re getting slow,” he taunted.

Killyama swung her fist out, trying to nail him in the stomach, but he sidestepped and caught her fist in his hand. She jerked her other hand up, nailing him under the chin. However, he didn’t release her.

They began to struggle against each other. He knocked her against the round table that was next to the kitchen table, and his dirty breakfast plate flew to the floor as she found herself lying back across the table.

Taking her shot, she lifted her booted foot to kick him in the balls as he tried to pin her hands to the table.

“Son of a fucking bitch! You always go for the balls.”

“Hammer, if you know that, you should watch them better.” Killyama snickered, sitting up on the table as he bent over, trying to catch his breath from the pain.

He hobbled to the counter to take a beer out of the carton, twisting off the top. “Want one?”

“What do you think?”

Hammer tossed her one then watched as she opened the bottle.

“Getting bored already?” she asked.

He took a long drink before he answered, “Yes. I don’t know why you have to live in this small-ass town.”

“I like it, and my friends are all here. You don’t have to stay. You could stay anywhere you want.”

“That’s true, but who would watch your back?”

Killyama snorted. “Who would watch yours?”

Hammer set his beer down on the counter. “I got called up for an assignment.”

“How bad?” She kept her expression neutral, knowing he would mock any concern she had for him.

“If they call me in, it’s bad.” He began picking up the broken dishes from the floor, tossing them into the trash. “Do you know where my paperwork is in case I don’t come back?”

Her hand tightened on the beer as she took another sip. It wasn’t strong enough to numb the fear she felt over him leaving.

“They say Fiji is nice this time of year,” she joked past the lump in her throat, knowing that was what he expected of her.

“I can pick my own crew,” he told her, ignoring her attempt at humor.

Her eyes narrowed on his face. It was impassive, his eyes lowered.

“Don’t—”

“I need him. He’s the best at flying that chopper in hot areas. If I’m going to bring my men out of there alive, I need him.”

“Or none of you will come out alive; is that what you’re trying to say?”

Hammer crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Killyama scooted off the table. Finishing her beer, she placed the empty bottle on the counter next to his. “I guess it doesn’t matter what I say. I’ve begged you to quit taking these assignments, yet you still do. Now you’re going to take—”

“Dammit, Rae, I don’t want to leave with you pissed off at me!”

“Then you’re shit out of luck!” she snapped, picking up her car keys, which she had left on the counter.

“Where are you going? I need to leave in an hour.”

“Drive your own damn self to the airport, or get Jonas to drive you.”

“I was kinda hoping you would tell Jonas for me.”

She scoffed, “I guess you’re really super fucked, then.” Angrily, she went to the door. Her hand on the doorknob, she tried to control the tremble in her voice. She didn’t turn back, not wanting to expose the turmoil that had her wanting to beg him to stay, but she had to say, “Be careful.”

“I will.”

Killyama nodded, opening the door, and then paused. “Do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Make sure you bring Train back. If anyone’s going to kill that fucker, it’s going to be me.”


T
ell me again
, exactly, why the hell we’re sitting in the parking lot of Sex Piston’s beauty shop?”

Train ignored Rider’s aggravated complaining, watching for the woman who drove him crazy. Any other time, Killyama would be hanging out at Sex Piston’s shop. He could easily see inside where the other bitches were together. However, they had been sitting there for the last couple of hours with a no show from her.

“You’re going to miss your flight.”

Train ignored Rider’s reminder for the third time, but he did glance down at his watch, seeing Rider was right; he was going to have to leave whether she showed up or not.

Just then, an ugly green car pulled into the parking lot, coming to a stop. His dick went hard before she even stepped out of her car.

Train took his time swinging out from the pickup, so Killyama was practically at his door before he slammed it closed.

“Sex Piston’s clients don’t have dicks,” she smarted off.

Train kept his mouth closed, determined not to get into an argument with her this time. He had already anticipated her friends tipping her off that he had been hanging out.

He put up his guard before telling her, “I’m not here for Sex Piston. I wanted to see you.”

“Fucker, we don’t have a word to say to one another.” She cocked her hip out, placing her hands on her hips.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He took a step toward her. “I’m going out of town, and I plan to settle this between us before I leave.”

Killyama shot a killing glance. “Spit it out, then.”

Train was surprised she had given in so easily when he realized Sex Piston and her crew were watching from inside the shop.

“The day we went for a ride and ended up fucking each other—”

“Asshole, I don’t need you to remind me.”

“Hear me just one damn time, Killyama!” he yelled.

Her mouth snapped closed.

Taking a deep breath, he continued, “When I told you I wouldn’t fuck you again, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

“So you’re saying what?” Her hands slid into the back pockets of her leather pants, her feet rocking back and forth. “You would have done me again?”

“Maybe. What I was trying to tell you was that I don’t fuck women more than once who don’t belong to The Last Riders.”

“So the only way you would do me again is if I became a Last Rider?”

“Yes.”

Train didn’t take Killyama’s silence as a good sign, thinking she would probably rather chop her left tit off than become a Last Rider.

Killyama’s eyes broke away from his as Rider rolled down the window.

“Train, we’ve got to go.”

She angrily jerked the truck door open. “Yeah, you don’t want to miss your flight. We don’t have a damn thing to talk about, anyway.”

“Killy—”

“Don’t call me that! We’re done talking.”

Train felt his hands clench into fists. Just like every time he tried to talk to her, it had ended up in an argument. Just once, he wished the funny, sexy woman who had gone for a ride would show again. He wanted to see the woman who had brazenly tried to ride his bike, who didn’t have a shy bone in her body, and who was the one who had made the first move between them, igniting a fire that hadn’t been put out since that day.

“Yes, we are!” he growled.

Before he could change his mind, Train pinned her to the hood, thinking,
Damn!
It couldn’t feel as good as the last time I kissed her.
However, when his tongue entered her mouth, he had to admit he had been mistaken. It was even better.

“You have exactly two seconds to get your hands off my bitch,” Sex Piston snarled at the exact moment he felt cold steel being pressed against the back of his head.

Lingering, he released her lips yet whispered against them, “We’re not done.” He then held a soft kiss against her lips for an infinite second.

“Yes, we are.” She pushed him away.

In another second, he was surrounded by women who could make any dick run cold. That’s when Train noticed Rider, who was a scared, little bitch, hadn’t volunteered to have his back.

Train stepped up to the truck. “I’ll see you in three months. Don’t forget me.”

“Dude, you’re already a memory,” Killyama said as she turned away.

Train rolled down the window. “Don’t worry; I’ll remind you when I see you again.”

Before she or one of the other bitches could say anything else, he hit the door as Rider drove away, the wind blowing strands of his hair into his face.

“You do know that was a loaded pistol pointed at you, right?”

“Killyama wouldn’t have let her kill me.”

Rider shook his head at him.

“Don’t worry,” Train assured. “I’m not stupid enough to underestimate her or those friends of hers.”

“Really?” Rider spared a glance as he drove onto the interstate. “Then tell me something.”

“What?” Train pulled a rubber band out of his pocket before dragging his hair behind his head.

“How did Killyama know you were going on a flight?”

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