Ryder: MC Biker Romance (Great Wolves Motorcycle Club Book 8)
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Authors: Jayne Blue
RYDER
By
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©201
6
Jayne Blue
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a book review.
This is
a work of fiction. Names, characters,
businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the
author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Sneak Peek
at Nash – A Great Wolf MC Romance
Jules
Dad’s whole club
was out there in the church pews. The Devil’s Hawks members were on their best
behavior.
Even if my mom wasn’t
on another continent, I was pretty sure she wouldn’t have lifted a finger to
help me anyway. She’d chosen her happiness over mine when she’d left Daddy and
his club. I was on my own.
I was the prized
daughter of a ruthless outlaw, and he was marrying me into his favorite family
that lived on the right side of the law.
Officer David
Wexler, was about to be my husband. The entire idea made me sick to my stomach.
Daddy told him I was his so that was it. I belonged to the club, and the club
was giving me to David.
David and his
father, The Judge, seemed to be thrilled about it. At least they smiled all the
damn time. Daddy sealed my fate with a scowl. Sonny Maldonado did everything
with a scowl. He only smiled when someone else was in pain. I’d learned that
sad fact in the last few weeks.
I looked in the
mirror at the Pinterest perfect hair. Daddy had sent a hair and makeup lady
over to the house to me this morning. My blonde hair, usually in a pony, or in
some wavy disarray, was now coiled, shaped, and piled all over my head. It
looked exactly like Daddy expected a bride should look. I didn’t look like me.
I looked like a perfectly wrapped package.
The rehearsal
dinner last night was a preview for the rest of my life. David, my groom, was
so smarmy with Daddy. The Judge acted like this was some sort of royal wedding.
Royal bullshit.
That’s what it was.
David was sucking
up to Daddy. Everybody sucked up to Daddy. I just tried not to throw up. Bile
rose in my throat every time David put a hand on my shoulder or The Judge, and
Daddy whispered to each other. I wasn’t a person. I was property.
“It’s a good
match.” Daddy wore his leather at the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner. He
always had on his leather. The Devil’s Hawks logo, a hawk’s head, his president
patch, his tattoos, all of it screamed outlaw. Yet there he was, marrying me to
a policeman, the son of a judge.
Daddy had told me the
time and the place and ordered me to put a smile on my face. I raged and cried
when he issued his edict. He sat stone-faced and then he spit on the floor
during my meltdown.
He told me the hair
and makeup this morning was only part of my wedding gift, and no matter how
red-eyed I was, I’d still be expected to stand and smile for pictures.
Any girl would
probably be thrilled with the movie star treatment I was getting on my wedding
day.
I wasn’t.
Today, on my
wedding day, I was wearing a bridal gown I didn’t pick out, to walk down an
aisle of a church I didn’t attend, to marry a man I didn’t love.
I actually didn’t
even like him. At. All.
Daddy had arranged
it. He said marrying David Wexler was my duty to the family.
“Wexlers are one
of the keys to my operations. They’re loyal to the family. Just like you are.
Cheech’s ass would be in the pen if it weren't for them.”
Daddy said it more
to himself than to me. Daddy wasn’t worried about convincing me. Cheech was his
brother. I had no idea why Cheech would be in the pen. I didn’t want to know.
Daddy was the
president of the Devil’s Hawks as long as I could remember. People did what he said,
or they were hurt or disappeared.
He’d kept me on
the sidelines of his life and his club while he ruled every decision about my
life. My mother wasn’t with the program so she was cut out.
Right,
about now I wished I could be cut out too.
I almost was. I
went away to college. Those four years made me think I was free of the Devil’s
Hawks. It lulled me into believing I could have a life. My own life.
Daddy was showing
me how wrong I was. How in control of everything he was.
Daddy had evil
deeds to do, and I was just a tool to help him do them. Everyone around him was
in service to his vision of the Devil’s Hawks.
“Daddy I can’t
marry him. I don’t even know him.” When he’d told me what he was forcing me into,
I’d felt the hot sting of tears roll down my cheeks. At the same time the cold
realization that I didn’t have a choice settled into my chest. If Daddy said to
do something, you did it. His club did. Everyone did.
My mother’s only
advice to me about survival was to look the other way. She said she didn’t want
to know more and advised me to take the same stance. Play dumb about Devil’s
Hawks she said. And I did. A teenage girl can easily only concern herself with
her own problems. But I wasn’t a teenager anymore. This was my real life.
That ignorance was
now costing my freedom. I had no argument to make. I had no escape plan. My
life was Daddy’s to use as he wanted just as much as the men who wore the
Hawk’s cut.
Fuck. That.
I wasn’t going to
sacrifice my freedom or my life for my Daddy’s evil group of bastard bikers.
It was my life,
and I wasn’t going to be a slave to Daddy’s club.
For the last few days,
I’d been playing along until I could figure something out.
I wore the dress
Daddy said to wear. I let David kiss me on the cheek at the rehearsal dinner.
Thank God he wasn’t ballsy enough to kiss me on the lips in front of Daddy.
And here it was my
“wedding day.”
I was fluffed,
blow dried, curled, and glossed. They had waxed stuff, plucked stuff,
moisturized me, and deemed me picture perfect.
I was a perfectly
groomed caged animal.
Daddy had a couple
of members drag me into the church.
If I had a thought
of running, Boone and Headlock were there to stop me.
“You are the
ugliest bridesmaids I ever saw.” I mouthed off. I probably shouldn’t, but I
couldn’t help it.
Headlock carried
my bag and didn’t respond to my dig. I’d stuffed my bag with shit that had
nothing to do with being on a honeymoon. I hope he didn’t think to look inside.
“Just get in the
fucking church.” Boone was cold. They were both there to intimidate me. But
something about Boone did the trick. Headlock looked like a wild animal but
Boone, he was a mass of muscle. He wore his hair and his beard long but not a
hair on his head was out of place. He had his hair pulled tight, and his mouth
pulled tighter.
“Is that any way
to talk to a bride?” I said, but I moved it along. I wasn’t sure if Boone or
Headlock would hurt me. I supposed they would hurt me, but just not so you
could see the bruises.
Had to have those
wedding pictures you know.
We were nowhere
near Southwood, Daddy’s territory. I knew that much. But I had no idea what
town we were in.
Daddy wanted it to
be picture perfect. He also wanted it to be in a place that was totally
unfamiliar to me so the remotest chance of me having a friend or a lifeline was
extinguished. My bridesmaids were Devil’s Hawks for God’s sake he wasn’t about
to risk me having a girlfriend or an old teacher help me out of pity.
I knew we were an
almost a two-hour drive away from Southwood. But I didn’t know where the hell
this church was. Daddy had also seen to it that the limo had tinted windows.
Just another way to keep control over me. To keep me off balance. Were we still
in Michigan?
I wondered who
would marry David Wexler and me. What did this church owe the club? Or did
Daddy give them a generous donation to ignore the fact that unholy matrimony
was about to go down?
The limo stopped,
and I looked up. We had arrived. It was a pretty church, I had to admit, and it
was in the country.
With each step up
into the building, the urge to scream became stronger. I wanted to stamp my
foot or claw at the lace of my dress, anything to release the frustration of
being trapped.
Because trapped I
was. Daddy hadn’t left me alone for one moment since he’d set me down this
path. I’d been with him, or Uncle Cheech, and now Boone and Headlock. They were
there to babysit me. No question about it. Whatever freedom I had in the last
four years at college was ripped away. If I really ever had it at all. I was a
prisoner to Daddy’s orders. To the needs of the Devil's Hawks.
Nothing had
changed. Daddy was in charge, and everyone around him did what he said. That
included me above all. I was the good girl daughter of a bad man. And I did
what I was told.
“They’re here to
keep you safe. We’re having trouble with Great Wolves.” That was Daddy’s excuse
for keeping me under lock and key.
Daddy had isolated
me since I’d gotten back from college. He knew he was going to do this. He’d
planned it perfectly.
Other than my
initial session of begging to get out of it, I was a mostly passive and
compliant daughter. It was my only play. I needed to make Daddy think I was
okay and had agreed.
It worked well
enough. Because now, moments before I was supposed to walk down the aisle Boone
and Headlock handed me off to Ross.
The fact that only
one person stood between my escape was the best opening I would have.
“Ross?”
“Yeah, that’s my
name for now.”
“Ah, well nice to
know you Ross, before you become Hammer or Knuckles or whatever tough guy name
they give you.”
The club gave you
a nickname once you were patched in, but now they called him "Probie".
Ross was skinny,
he was smaller than Boone and Headlock by at least 20 pounds, and now he was
stuck with the job of standing outside the powder room of a church.
“Well, I hope it’s
not Knuckles. I would always forget the K.” I laughed for the first time in a
while.
“Well, Ross, I’m
sorry you got stuck with handmaiden to the bride duties.”
“It’s okay Jules.
Protecting you is an honor.” He was so out of place, with his leather, and scruff,
in a church, and as a bridesmaid, it would have been funny if I even had one
ounce of humor about the situation.
“Honor? Okay, well
whatever.” I wondered how old Ross was. What was his story? Why did he think
getting into a motorcycle gang was a good idea? But I didn’t have time to find
out. I had to worry about my story. That meant getting away from this probie
for a few minutes.
“I’m going to go
in here and fix up, so give me a minute. I’ve got to deal with a lot.”
I pointed to my
dress, veil, and flowers. I was full on Bride Princess. Daddy imagined what a six-year-old
girl would want for a wedding dress and arranged for it. It would have been
sweet except that I was grown, educated, and had decided that I didn’t want a
life with Detective David Wexler.
I didn’t want to
be Daddy’s payment to a dirty cop.
I didn’t know all
the things the Devil’s Hawks did, but I did know that what he did with his club
was dangerous, illegal, and required someone inside law enforcement to look the
other way.
That was David. My
mission was to keep David happy. For Daddy’s club. It made me sick to think I
was expected to give up my body at the whim of the Devil’s Hawks.
That was the idea.
Well, that was Daddy’s idea.
I had other ideas.
Ross let me close
the door to the powder room of the church. Headlock had let me carry my own bag
when we’d gotten into the church. And he hadn’t snooped. That was good because inside
my one bag I’d jammed my wallet, a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, some shorts, my
Chuck Taylor’s and some toiletries. I’d also packed away some of my designs and
artwork from my senior project, maybe I could sell them?
There was also a
sexy negligee from David that he wanted me to wear tonight. Barf. I was afraid
to leave it behind at my house though for fear of giving myself away.
Most important I
had my graduation cash. That was something. That would be my lifeline.
I wished I had
more time. I wished I could pack a Ford Mustang in there too. No such luck,
though. As it was, my bag was stuffed, and my mind was set.
There was a soft knock
at the bathroom door.
“Miss Jules, you
have about five minutes. The pastor guy said you have to come out.”
“You try peeing in
this dress! You wanna come in and hold it up for me Ross?”
“No, no. For sure
no. I’ll let your Dad know you’re almost ready.”
“Good.”
Shit. I didn’t
have time to change into my jeans. I didn’t really have time to think. It was
move my ass or be married. I decided to move. The window to the powder room was
high up so I couldn’t reach.
But there was a
tall garbage can. I flipped it over and put my bag around my shoulder.
I hoisted myself
up and balanced for a second on the window.
It was about a six
feet drop. Six feet is a lot. I decided to arm hang my way out. That would make
it less than a foot.
I swung my legs
out of the church window, and then I squirmed over so I was suspended half in
and half out. I hesitated for a second.
