Breaking the Rules (Roaming Devils MC #1) (22 page)

“Exactly.”

Her nails eased up on his skin and she released him from her grip. “What happened to your grandfather?”

Ryker groaned. “He died in a fire.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t planned.” She shifted in the water, scooping the bubbles into her hand. “Is that what the club is about? Murder? If someone does you wrong, you kill them? Is that the way of life for you?”

“Not exactly, no.” He rubbed his forehead.

“Would you choose to be part of the club if you had that choice?”

He stared at her for what felt like an eternity. Ella sipped at her tea, lying back against the side of the tub. The bubbles had dissipated and the tops of her breasts were visible to his eyes. She was waiting for his answer and, for some reason, he felt like the answer meant everything to her. To their relationship.

“I don’t know any other life.” He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, Ella. I wish I could say what you want to hear, but I can’t. You wanted honesty. I’m being honest. I love the club. I love the men that are part of it. They’re family, the only family I know.”

“How do you know what I want to hear?” She frowned. “I’m not against the Roaming Devils. I don’t care if you want to be part of it by choice or not. What I do care about is your happiness. You can’t go around killing people and say you’re a happy person. You can’t shoot your father one day and come home to me like nothing happened. Life has got to mean more than that to you.”

“It does.” He swallowed.

“Then why do it?”

He stood and walked toward one of the vanities in the room. His father’s words taunted him.
Are you going to do it, or are you a pussy?
He gripped the edge of the counter and stared at himself in the mirror.

They’d carried him back to the middle of fucking nowhere and shoved him to his knees. Razor’s wrists were bound and they’d put a sack over his head. Ryker had yanked it off while Vampire grabbed Sonny. Both were fucking bastards.

His father laughed, spitting blood from the split in his lip, and stared up at him with a fucking grin. “You’ve actually got the balls to kill me?”

Ryker had stared at him. The eyes staring back were dark and completely devoid of any emotion. His father wasn’t afraid to die. Death to him meant nothing but failure. He didn’t think his son would kill him. Ryker wanted to say he was wrong but he couldn’t.

“Ryker?”

Ryker gripped the vanity harder, dropping his head down so that it hung between his arms. He’d taunted him. Smiling like they were watching a Falcons game and they’d just scored the winning touchdown. Sonny, on the other hand, had been scared shitless.

“He was the one behind Ghost’s drug trade for guns,” Sonny had blurted. “He wanted to make money under the table so he could have bigger profits than everyone else.”

Ryker had been shocked at the discovery, though he asked himself why a thousand times. His father didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. Ryker had raised his gun high enough that it pointed right at his father’s forehead. His finger itched to pull the trigger. He rubbed it several times, though the demon inside him wasn’t as strong. He still saw the man that created him. The man that showed him how to ride his first motorcycle. The man that gave him advice about women. He was completely changed after taking over the club. The power destroyed him. Consumed him.

The feeling consuming Ryker wasn’t anger.

It was pity.

“Are you going to do it, or are you a pussy?” his father had asked him.

Ryker aimed the gun at Sonny and pulled the trigger. The man’s big body fell to the side. He couldn’t look at his father any longer. Maybe he was a pussy, but he couldn’t let the same power that destroyed the man before him destroy him too. He turned his back.

“Put him back in the van. Drive him to Nevada and leave him with the Roaming Devils nomads. I don’t ever want to see his fucking face again, and if you so much as even try stepping a toe in the whole fucking state of Georgia, I
will
blow your fucking brains out.”

“
Ryker
?”

A hand grabbed his arm and he swung back.

He realized a little too late that Ella had grabbed him. His elbow had made contact with her face before his strength sent her backward to the tile floors as he pushed her off him.

She grabbed her face, crying, while blood spilled out from her nose.

“Oh, God.” He rushed to her and she backed away from him. “I’m so sorry, baby. I…” Tears filled his eyes. “Oh, God, I didn’t mean to do that. Are you okay?”

His fingers itched to touch her. He didn’t try to approach her again, instead grabbing a towel from the vanity and wetting it. His heart raced. She was crying and bleeding. He couldn’t have felt shittier if he’d tried.

“Here.” He walked to her and she didn’t move away. Kneeling down beside her, he gently pulled her hands from her face. He wanted to vomit. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cried. Blood ran in rivulets into her mouth. In the short time, her face had already started to swell. He dabbed her bloody nose, doing his best to be gentle. “I’m so sorry, Ella. God, I didn’t mean to do that. I…”

She took the rag from him and held it to her nose. “I need to go to the hospital.”

He nodded dumbly. “I’ll take you.”

“No.” She pushed up from the floor. A towel was wrapped around her body. “I’m going by myself.”

She left the room and he stayed in the bathroom, staring at the blood droplets on the white tiled floors. He took a few deep breaths, though the pressure in his chest didn’t ease. He ran a hand over his face. Hurting Ella had been an accident, but she didn’t want him anywhere near her. God, what the fuck had he done?

When he finally pushed up from the floor, he cleaned up the blood and went into the living area of the house. If her father found out, he’d press charges. Ryker was willing to go to jail too. He shook his head, his stomach tangled in knots. He wanted to puke. Instead he sat on the couch, replaying the image of her crying and bloody on the floor. His hands shook with fear. There was nothing inside him that would ever make him lay a finger on her in anger. He felt like he’d ripped his own heart out of his chest when he saw her, when he came out of the trance that he’d disappeared into. He didn’t deserve her. She was too fucking good, and if she stayed with him, she’d eventually turn bad like him. Tears filled his eyes as he wallowed in pain. It physically hurt him to know that he’d hurt her. That
he
caused her to bleed. That
he
caused her to cry. It had been an accident, but it didn’t feel like one. It felt like he’d taken a knife and slit his own wrists.

Sometime later, Ella opened the door and stepped inside. Her face looked like she’d gone three rounds with a professional boxer and lost. Ryker stood from the sofa and walked toward her.

“I didn’t break anything. Just bruising and swelling.” She stared at him, the skin beneath her eyes a mixture of purple and yellow. “As for what happened to me, I was attacked by a junkie at the clinic. And for your information, I’m okay. Sore, but I’m going to live.” She sat down on the sofa.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do it.”

“I know.” She stared at him. “What were you thinking about? I called your name a few times and you didn’t hear me. You were in some other place.”

He took in a shaky breath. He didn’t want to tell her what had happened. So much could go wrong. He rubbed a hand over his face. “I was thinking about what we did to Razor.”

She sat quietly on the couch. He didn’t know what to say. Every time he looked at her, he wanted to apologize. He wanted to kiss her and hold her. Make her feel better.

“He taunted me.” He closed his eyes and dropped his head back. “‘Are you going to do it, or are you a pussy?’” His nerves were shot for the night. “I don’t know what is wrong with me. I couldn’t do it.”

She patted the spot next to her. When he sat, she reached for his hand and kissed it. “You’re a good man. You need to believe me when I say that to you.”

“Says the woman I just elbowed in the face.”

She tilted her head to the side. “I know it was an accident. I never thought it was intentional. You look more upset about it than me, so I definitely know you didn’t mean to do it.” She rubbed his hand with her thumb. “I’m okay.”

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice shaky.

“I know.” She moved closer to him. “Don’t move. I’m going to hug you.”

Her arms wrapped around him and he closed his eyes, breathing her in. Somehow, being close to her made everything feel right again.

“I’m going to be so fucking sore in the morning.” She pulled back and stared at him. “My griping is the only punishment you’re allowed to get. I know you would never hurt me intentionally. I also know better than to grab someone’s arm when they don’t hear me. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He lightly kissed her lips. “I’m so sorry. I wish it didn’t happen.”

“Shh.” She smoothed her hand along his scruffy cheek. Rubbing her finger along his lip, she said, “Let’s go to bed.”

Chapter Fifteen

When Ella had been in the fourth grade, she played a game of playground softball. One of the boys threw a ball at her face and busted her lip, sending her loose tooth flying into the field. She spent two hours on her hands and knees looking for it, convinced that the tooth fairy wouldn’t visit her if she didn’t have the tooth.

She groaned as she opened her eyes. Why getting an elbow to the face made her think of that story was beyond her. The bruised face hurt worse than a busted lip. She glanced over at Ryker, who stared back at her with concern. She knew how it looked. No one would ever believe that he’d done it accidentally. Her mother was already convinced that he’d beat the shit out of her, and with his prior assault history, their accident looked really bad to the unknowing eye. That was the whole reason she’d fabricated her story to the hospital. He didn’t need to be associated with it or all hell would break loose.

He’d been in a trance. Whatever went through his mind surrounded him as if it were real. Blood had poured from her nose while tears had filled his eyes. God, she hated that look. It was the same look he’d given her in the room at the clubhouse when he’d been high. It broke her heart to even think about it.

“You’re going to fuck up.” She closed her eyes. “This is just a big fuck up.”

“I’m sorry, Ella.” He sat up and turned toward her. “I’m so sorry.”

She blew out a breath. “Stop saying you’re sorry.” She sat up and pushed the covers back to stand. “No more. I forgave you the moment it happened. I know it wasn’t intentional. I made up a story to protect you, so stop saying you’re sorry. I’m okay.”

She stretched and walked to the bathroom. After using the facilities, she went back to find him damn near tears in their bed.

“Ryker,” she wrapped her arms around him, carefully avoiding accidentally bumping her cheek against his head, “what’s wrong?”

“I shouldn’t have given in to you that first night.” He swallowed. “I was so damn selfish because I wanted you and I knew that I was no good for you. Nothing good will come from you being with me. I’m going to hurt you. It’s who I am.”

She pulled back and stared into his haunted eyes. “You’re not your father.”

She knew it had something to do with what happened. His reasoning was vague but he hadn’t killed Razor even though that was what he’d set out to do. She kissed his forehead.

“I think you should take the job in DC.” He pulled her arms from him and stood. “I need to go to the club.”

She watched as he snatched his clothes from the dresser and left the room in his boxers. Ella sighed. She didn’t know how to help him. He hadn’t told her the full story that had started this mess and she shook her head at her need for asking him. If she’d just left things alone. But no. She had to ask the question. She had to bring it up.

After getting ready for work, she decided to meet her father for breakfast. She had to do poison control that week, so the hours were slightly more lenient. She did her best to cover the bruising with makeup, but the swelling was still visible. When her father saw her, his expression went stone cold.

“What happened?”

“Junkie jumped me at the clinic. Nothing is broken. I’m fine.”

“At the clinic? I thought you were in the ER yesterday?” He pulled out a chair for her at the restaurant. “Why were you at the clinic?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She smiled at the waitress and ordered a coffee along with a country breakfast. “I’m worried about Ryker, though. He’s really not in a good frame of mind right now, and I don’t know how to help him.”

“What do you mean?” he asked her, cop face in place. “What did he say about the junkie that hit you?”

She hesitated. Her brain wasn’t firing on all pistons and her cheeks felt like a squirrel packing in acorns for the winter. She met his eyes, unsure of what to say.

“I’m going to kill him.” Her father shoved his seat back. The legs of the chair screeched along the linoleum. Ella grabbed his arm, but he easily got past her. She watched as he stalked out of the building, blowing out a breath of air.

The waitress came back with her food and Ella asked for a to-go box. The whole situation between him and Ryker was getting out of hand. They would never be able to stay in the same room together. She didn’t know what she was going to do.

Making a quick call to her boss, she let him know she was running late. Then she headed to the clubhouse to—she hoped—stop the fight before it started.

She was too late.

Rushing inside, she found Ryker and her father throwing punches at one another with several scary-looking bikers gathering around with bats and metal bars.
What the fuck?
She pushed through the crowd.

“Stop it!” Ella screamed as her father threw a punch at Ryker.

She desperately searched for Vampire and Superman, who stood off to the side, watching. “Do something!”

Vampire pushed away from the wall he stood against and walked toward her. “You don’t need to be here.”

She stared at him. “Where the fuck am I going to go? Do something.”

“He said not to intervene.”

“I don’t give a fuck what he said. Do something!”

Vampire held his hands up, backing away from her. She shook her head in fury. If she called the cops, Ryker was going to jail. If she let it continue, one of them would be in a body bag.

She rushed out to the car and found her medical bag. She’d left a vial of medicine for rapid sedation since she’d experienced hostile patients in the ER the previous day. Now was a great time to use it. Loading up two needles with a dose that would sedate them, she went back into the clubhouse. She dealt with combative patients all the time in the ER and clinic. Some didn’t know any better and some simply wanted to fight. It fucking sucked to drug them, but sometimes it was needed for their safety and hers. Walking over to the two men, she pushed her way past the bikers and stabbed Ryker in his shoulder with the needle first. Her father stopped long enough for her to stick him next.

“What the fuck?” Ryker turned toward her and she waited, the drug lessening his agitation as seconds went by.

Vampire arched an eyebrow, moving in to catch Ryker before he fell on his face. “What’d you give them?”

She didn’t respond, watching the two of them. Her father stumbled and fell to his ass, muttering something. After a few minutes, they were asleep. She finally pulled her attention away from them and focused on Vampire.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

He set Ryker’s limp body on a nearby couch. “He said not to intervene. We were all ready to defend him but he told us not to.”

“And what? You wanted to add another fucking body to the total dead body count?” She didn’t know why she was yelling, but it felt good. She shook her head, staring at them. They were both a bloody mess. In some ways it had been a long time coming.

“Look, I know you rule the roost at your house, but you’re not a patch member.” Superman came toward her. “Take your father and leave.”

She didn’t hide the shock on her face. “Excuse me?”

She glanced between him and Vampire. That was how they treated her? Really? She walked over to her father and grabbed his upper body. He was more than twice her weight but she tugged and pulled, moving him little by little to the door. She should have called the fucking cops on them.

“You’re an asshole.” Ella struggled, then stopped, realizing she was losing the battle. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and dialed.

“Who the fuck are you calling?” Superman asked.

“The cops.” She stared at him. “I mean that’s what you guys are all about, right? You help your own. Since my father is an officer, I wonder what his buddies would say about this?”

Vampire exhaled. “Women.”

He went over to her father and grabbed him around his chest. He could lift him significantly better than she could and helped her get him in the backseat of his truck. She pocketed her phone and gave him her thanks. She went back inside to check on Ryker’s vitals before she left. His face looked about as bad as hers felt. Maybe that was what he wanted. She shook her head.

When she left, she grabbed her breakfast food and her medical bag before going to her father’s truck. She’d have her mom drive her back to the clubhouse to get her car once she got her father home.

She was fairly sure her day couldn’t possibly get any worse, but the universe was screwing with her. Anything was possible.

****

Ryker woke to several eyes peering down at him. Groggily, he winced and blinked a few times. “What the fuck happened?”

“Your girlfriend sedated you.” Vampire sighed. “And before she goes all bat shit crazy about Superman kicking her out of the clubhouse, let it be known that I helped her carry her father out.”

Ryker tried to think back to what the hell had happened and nothing floated into his mind.

“Why did Ella sedate me?”

Superman pulled a chair over to him. “You were fighting with her father.”

He groaned. Her father. He didn’t remember any of it. Shit. Ryker rubbed his eyes and glanced down at his hands. Dried blood covered them along with bruising. Fuck. He’d gone a few rounds with her old man.

“I need to fucking talk to Ella.” He tried to sit up. Every muscle in his body was relaxed. He couldn’t get mad about the situation if he wanted to. “What time is it?”

“Noon.”

He groaned. “Fuck.”

“You don’t remember anything, do you?” Vampire asked.

“Not one damn thing.” He stood and walked slowly toward the back. Hell, he felt like he’d taken an elephant tranquilizer. He went to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. Her old man had gotten in a few good hooks. His eye was swollen and his lip busted. He didn’t want to know what he’d done to Pat.

He grabbed his cell phone and found her number. After pressing the button, he put it to his ear. It didn’t take her long to answer. “Are you okay?”

“I feel groggy.”

“That’s normal.” She paused a moment. “What were you thinking?”

“I don’t fucking remember.” He groaned. The stiffness from the fight mixed with sleeping on the couch wreaked havoc on his muscles. “What happened?”

“My dad came after you for the whole incident with my face.”

He winced, vaguely remembering the cop forcing his way into the club. His memory came to him in bits and pieces, but Ryker knew he hadn’t even defended himself when Pat landed a right hook on his jaw. God, he’d wanted that fight. Relished in it.

“Yeah. I remember that.”

She didn’t say anything for a minute, the background noise of the poison control center filling the silence. “We’ll talk about this later. I need to get back to work.”

She disconnected with him before he could protest. He wanted his fucking bed. The van was still out of town delivering his father to the nomads and he didn’t have anything to get him back home.

“Fuck.” He left the bathroom and went back to the front of the clubhouse. He glanced over at Ella’s car parked outside and grabbed Vampire. “Drive me home.”

She’d given him the spare a few nights ago when he’d driven her to her parents’ house. He still had it on his key chain. He handed it to Vampire and went to the other side of the car. It fucking sucked to feel so damn helpless.

It didn’t take them long to get home and once he did, he locked the door behind him. He walked to the bedroom and fell face-first onto the bed.

He slept most of the day away. He’d been so pissed about what happened with Ella that he’d tried to hide in the club. Her father barging in had been a needed release. He’d wanted that fight. Pat was older but he was fit. He remembered him coming at him, throwing the first punch. He’d said something to Ryker, though Ryker hadn’t really heard what it was. Ella was his daughter, and Ryker knew all fucking well that he would have done the same damn thing if he found Ella hurt. The guys that had broken into their apartment had learned that all too well. Ryker sat up on the bed and decided to get something to eat. The effects of the drug had worn off mostly and he felt more like himself.

While he was heating leftover fast food in the microwave, Ella came home. So much of his life was violence and destruction. Now, just by living with him, she got a taste of that. He watched as she put her medical bag aside. “Why did you drug me?”

She glanced up. “Because you wouldn’t stop fighting. I asked Vampire to do something and he refused, saying you told him not to. I thought about calling the police but you’d only end up in jail. I wasn’t about to let either one of you kill the other. It was the only other option I had.”

“Don’t fucking do that again.” He frowned. “I’ve had enough of other people pumping shit in my veins.”

“It wasn’t a narcotic. I use it for combative patients in the ER.”

“I don’t fucking care. Don’t do it again.”

She stared at him. “Don’t go looking for a fight, then.”

“I didn’t. He came after me.”

“I know he did. But you could have stopped it.”

He shook his head. “He’s lucky he’s not in a body bag.”

He opened the microwave door and grabbed his hamburger. He bit into it, trying to focus on his anger. He was helpless in so many ways and it pissed him off. He wanted to build a life with Ella, but he couldn’t figure out how to protect her, especially if he was the one that hurt her. He didn’t know what to do about the situation with her father. They’d never be able to stand in the same room together. Especially now. Anger was all he had to get her to realize that he was no good for her. She deserved so much better than him. Someone that wasn’t fucked up.