Running Wild (Hell Ryders MC Book 1) (30 page)

She didn’t understand that either. What had Ty done to deserve a punch? She didn’t know who she was more irritated with: Jace for hitting her brother or Ty for breaking his promise.

Narrowing her eyes at Jace, she then snapped them to Ty. “You promised.”

He tilted his head. “Never said what I was promising.”

Her eyes widened. Another thing she couldn’t believe. “Care to inform me what you were promising?”

“That I wouldn’t shoot him.”

Her cheeks flamed. She took a deep breath, schooling her anger. Her brother knew what she’d meant when she’d asked him to promise. Neither seemed in the least bit sorry for what he’d done. It seemed they couldn’t care less what she had to say about it.

She’d let them have their man-to-man talk, alone. She’d given them privacy thinking they’d respect the fact she was in the middle and didn’t want them fighting, yet they’d both taken their shots to prove who knows what without considering her.

Not in the mood to deal with either of them, she turned on her heel, marched into her room, and locked the door behind her. Immature and childish, but at the moment, she didn’t care.

“Allie?” Ty called her from the other side of the door. “Come out. I’m hungry.”

Oh, the freaking gall of her brother. The heat on her cheeks crept down her neck.

“And we gotta get you moved out by three ’cause Trig and I gotta meet with the club.”

“I’m not making you anything to eat, Ty. I’m not moving. I’m staying right here, far away from both of you.”

“Alyssa, do not make me knock down this fuckin’ door.”

Damn. He would knock down her door. Typical Ty style—not because she was being immature but because he knew she’d taken that step, alienating herself from them, which meant she wasn’t okay. Ty, being her brother, needed to make sure she was okay and would use breakfast as an excuse even if he knew that particular excuse would infuriate her.

Jace sighed, and then he asked softly, “Allie, baby, come on out, so we can talk.”

“Alyssa.” Ty’s voice firm. “Open the…” His voice drifted off when he let out a huff. “Fuck, Trig.”

“Let me fuckin’ handle her.” Jace’s voice hardened.

Jace, the Jace she’d come to love, sweet Jace who never let her go to bed angry or let her “get in her head.” Still, he hit her brother first, and she didn’t know why, so she shot back, “I don’t need any handling, Jace. What I need is to be left alone.”

“Oh, way to go,” Ty shot back, sarcastically. “Now, we’ll fuckin’ starve—”

“She isn’t your fuckin’ chef.”

She rolled her eyes, and then fought a smile. They may be bikers, who could act like children, but they were bikers she loved who cared about her. Wyatt being Wyatt would’ve let her stew. She heaved a frustrated sigh, parted the door, and met their gazes. “I’m not very happy with either of you.”

Ty’s eyes widened. “He hit me first, and I didn’t shoot him.”

She bit the sides of her mouth, so she wouldn’t laugh like she wanted to. “You broke your promise and hurt Jace.” Her gaze snapped to Jace. “And you hit my brother.”

“He deserved it.”

She rubbed her temples, thinking she’d never change their minds. She made a mature decision and let it go. They blocked her way out. “Are you going to let me through?”

Jace and Ty made way for her. She walked by them, intent on ignoring them, and headed into the kitchen. Once there, she searched for a bowl and the ingredients to make pancakes for breakfast. She organized them on the counter, her back to Jace and Ty who’d followed her into the kitchen, and then, she mixed the batter.

Mid-way done, she felt the warmth of Jace’s arms around her waist. Startled, she jumped. He tugged her, pressing up against her back. Dropping his head, his breath at her neck, he kissed her below her ear.

She loved when he did that. He did it often enough, whenever she was too wound up, and it always had the desired effect. Sighing, she relaxed in his arms.

“Everything’s good between me and Army, baby. He hit me. I hit him. We’re even, and it’s forgotten. We’ll move you into my room at the compound, and then we’ll tell the club, ‘kay?”

Her man and her brother were good. She would move into the compound with Jace. They wouldn’t have to hide, not anymore. It’d be like when Ty was away, but better.

She smiled. “Okay.”

He feathered another kiss under her ear. “You making my favorite?”

She glanced at the chocolate chips on the counter and realized without thought, she had been. “Yeah, honey.”

He tightened his arms around her. His hand gripped her chin, turning her head toward his, and he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

She loved it when he did that, too. He kissed her lightly often, just because.

Jace drew away from her lips slowly. Smiling, he ran his thumb over her lips. “Thank you, baby.”

She caught her brother’s gaze dead on them. “What?”

Ty smiled, then mumbled, “Nothing.”

****

Trig entered the meeting room and scanned the faces of his brothers. Some stood, some leaning against the walls or on the backs of the chairs.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he’d hear. The meeting was about Allie,
his
Allie. He had Army’s approval. He wouldn’t lose his friend, his brothers, or the club, and Allie was his—the best possible outcome, but it didn’t change the fact Allie was in trouble. Her ex-fiancé wasn’t letting go.

He’d been terrified he’d lose her. He’d lived with that deep-seated fear for a month. Every morning he’d woken thinking that could be the day she realized he was trash and ended what they had. And the fear, despite the sleepless nights, was heaven compared to knowing her ex was fighting back.

Her ex was a man with money, with resources, and men like that usually got what they wanted. It meant his Allie’s ex could possibly find a way to get her back, and the ex wouldn’t go without punishing her. A man who beat a woman, who took out his frustrations on her would, and it meant for every punch Trig’d gotten in, Allie would get twice. He couldn’t let that happen.

After she’d made them breakfast, they packed as much of her stuff as possible into their SUVs. Two of the prospects drove a truck to Allie’s where they’d loaded the large pieces of furniture: her bed, couch, and dining room table. They unloaded it at the compound, placing her furniture in one of the empty rooms downstairs and her clothes, purses, and shoes into his room. It took about three hours. In reality, Allie didn’t have much. Her apartment was small and didn’t take much to fill it. What took the longest: packing her clothes and undergarments, and she insisted on doing it herself.

“Allie okay?” Cuss asked Army.

“Yeah, moved her in.”

Cuss smiled. “Yeah, noticed. Noticed where her stuff was moved to, too.”

Army didn’t get the chance to respond. Prez cut him off.

“Need to discuss couple of things. First, Allie.” He leaned both hands against the table. His stare dead on Army. “Her tires were slashed yesterday outside her work. She got a note on her car two weeks ago, and a rock was thrown at her window more than a month ago. We voted to protect her when her dick fiancé hit her in broad daylight. Some of you weren’t here, but we had majority. She’s Army’s sister, but this—”

“She’s mine. She’s protected.”

All gazes focused on him. He kept his on Prez, who straightened and quirked a brow. Prez’s gaze then darted to Army.

“Lucky son of a bitch,” Blaze muttered under his breath.

Bud ran his fingers through his hair. “Guess it makes sense.”

His gaze snapped to Bud.

Bud grinned. “Been in too good a mood, figured something had to be goin’ on.”

“You patchin’ her?” Wild asked.

If he had it his way, he would do more than patch her. He’d tattoo his name on her. He’d put a ring on her finger and marry her, but he wouldn’t say it aloud. “I said she’s mine, means I’m patchin’ her.”

Trick grinned. “Thought she was off limits. I’d have known, I’d’ve put on the charm.”

Trig’s muscles tensed. Eyes hard, he took a step in Trick’s direction.

Army put his hand over his chest, stopping him. “Wouldn’t have mattered, Trick.”

Trick’s eyes on him, he laughed. “Fuck, brother. Just messin’ with you.”

“Guess that answers whether you’d given approval,” Rake told Army.

Shaking his head, Mellow, another one of his brothers, chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the fuckin’ day. Trig with an old lady, and they say miracles don’t happen.”

“Wait, you patchin’ her after knowing her three months? You fuckin’ crazy, brother?” Hash, a typical comment from him. He liked women, lots of women, and enjoyed them together, two or three at a time. “I mean, fuck, three months?”

Dash’s eyes glimmered. “I’d patch her in two. She’s fuckin’ hot.”

They were doing this shit on purpose, trying to see how far they could push before Trig lost it, so he knew he should ignore them. They were wasting time, time better spent on planning what to do about Allie’s ex. Because it was Allie though, he couldn’t let it slide.

He launched himself at Dash, slammed him hard against the wall. “Didn’t you hear me say she’s fuckin’ mine? Means you don’t fuckin’ say fucked shit, means you don’t even think fucked shit unless you want me to gut you.”

Dash, unfazed, lifted his arms in surrender, then smirked. “Got it, brother.”

He shoved him hard against the wall, then released him.

“Gotta keep a closer eye on her.” Army cut to the chase.

He turned, facing Army. “I’m hiring a PI.” After Allie fell asleep last night, he’d stayed up and thought about their predicament. He came to the conclusion a man like Wyatt had to have skeletons in his closet, bad ones that, if uncovered, would tarnish his reputation and his family’s. With luck, a PI could uncover it, and then they could use it as blackmail.

“The guy’s got money and loads of it. What makes you think you’d find anything?” Strike asked.

“’Cause he’s got money is why I think it’s what’s best. Everyone has skeletons. He’s got money means he can hide those better than anyone. I know we hire the right guy, he’ll find something. Besides, a man who hits a woman…” His jaw hardened. He shook his head. “He’s probably done it before, and he’ll do it again. Find them and it could be that easy.”

“Doug,” Army said.

Trig thought the same thing. Doug was a vet like them. After his fourth tour, he’d become a PI. Trig hadn’t spoken to him for about a year, but Doug was good at his job. He’d hired him to find Della’s father two years ago. Few days later, Doug called and told him where to find him. He’d paid him a visit.

“It’s gonna be pricey,” Cuss said.

He knew it would. Allie’s ex had money and lived in New York in a fancy apartment with a doorman and security. Doug had to fly out to New York to do the job. Even knowing Doug, it would be expensive. He had some in his savings. Trig would take several guard jobs to make the money. Whatever it took. Most important thing was Allie’s safety.

“Don’t care how much it costs. I’m doing it.”

Cuss patted his back. “We back you no matter what, brother.”

He knew it. He didn’t need to hear it, but hearing it helped. Truth be told, he was fucking terrified Wyatt would get his hands on Allie. He still didn’t know how he’d managed to do what he had. He assumed her ex had hired someone or several to do his dirty work.

He glanced at Cuss, and then he scanned the room, meeting his brothers’ gazes. He nodded.

“All right then, two brothers on Allie at all times.” Prez met his gaze. “Tell her. Make sure she doesn’t try to ditch ’em.”

“She wouldn’t—” Army began.

Prez shrugged. “You wouldn’t like having anyone watching your every fuckin’ move.”

He and Army exchanged a look.

“Now…” Prez’s tone lowered. “Got a call from Chip…”

The tension in the room heightened so much so it was palpable, and the quiet deadening. Chip was the president of the rival motorcycle club, Chained Disciples, though Chained Disciples MC was more like a gang than a club. Biker nomads who went where the wind took them, they had to be that way because they were heavily involved in criminal activity.

Chained MC and Hell Ryders hadn’t always been at odds. Before Prez took over the club and ended the club’s involvement in criminal activity, they’d worked together. It presented a problem. Chained MC wanted to continue running guns and drugs through their town.

Despite Prez’s request they run their business elsewhere, they hadn’t, forcing the brothers to post up around town. It ended one night in an all-out brawl, and the clubs had severed ties for good. He’d been a prospect then, so he hadn’t known the details until months later when he’d been patched. Last the club heard, Chained MC had taken off to Nevada.

Still, Chained wanting payback was not far-fetched. It had been five years, but there was no time limit on revenge. Chained was a threat and treated as such. They were one of the reasons they had “runs,” posting up around town at night, making sure they kept their eyes and ears open.

“What the fuck does that dick want?” Ripper, face flaming, asked, his tone deadly.

Trig knew Ripper would be the first to speak. They all knew. For Ripper, this was more than club business. It was personal. Chip’s cousin, Emelia, had been Ripper’s old lady for two years. When shit hit the fan with the clubs, she took off. No one knew where she’d gone, not even Chip. A week after the brawl that ended their ties, Chip rode up to the garage alone, found Ripper sitting astride his bike out front, and beat the living daylights out of him. Ripper let him. It wasn’t until several of the brothers dragged Chip away, Chip explained Emelia wasn’t answering any of his calls. Ripper admitted she’d packed her stuff and left three days before. None of the brothers had known. It made perfect sense, too. None of the brothers had seen him for that long.

Ripper had never been the same. He’d always been a dick, but after Emelia, something in him died. They all knew it. Just no one ever spoke of it.

Trig never understood it, had never been able to wrap his mind around how a woman could change a man. Ripper loved Emelia. It was clear as day every time he saw them together, but he’d never known what it was to love like that. Now, he knew. Because of Allie. He loved her, and if he lost her, something inside him would die too.