Where Souls Spoil (25 page)

Ride Deleted Scenes

Chapter 6

Ryan’s POV

I LEAD MY brothers off the highway and into the dirt parking lot of a small gas station—the only structure for miles around—and thank a God I don’t believe in that I can finally take a piss. My back is killing me, my ass is numb, and my nerves are shot. I won’t feel better until we make it home.

I turn off my bike, push down the kickstand, and dismount. Our charter, the Fort Bragg Forsaken, pulls up beside me. Our Detroit charter, led by patch president, Rig, trails behind the van that carries Ma and her kid. But she’s not really a kid, now is she?

Barging into her bedroom back in Brooklyn took me aback. I knew going in that she was nineteen, but there’s nineteen and then there’s nineteen. Even free of makeup, with a braid running down the back of her head, and with her body covered up, she not a little girl. She’s on the verge of womanhood. I guess it’s been longer than I thought since Ma got a picture from Gloria. And fuck if it ain’t screwing with me. Now’s not really the time to think about getting my dick sucked, but it’s not like I’ve got much else to think about on such a long ride.

I weave through my brothers and head toward the black van, parked at the gas pump. Ian and Pop stride up behind me, stretching their tired muscles as they walk. The front doors of the van swing open, and Bear and Diesel climb out and head toward Rig’s crew is filling up the bikes. Reaching the van, I grab hold of the sliding door and pull it open.

Sitting on the long seat in front of me is Alexandra. Seated next to her is Ma, who looks like she’s in serious need of a drink and some bud. Alexandra’s eyes are wide, and the exhaustion from the situation shows on her face. In this moment, they look so much alike. Neither one is well rested, nor do they appear very comfortable around each other. I hate it when bitches are sad. They end up crying and shit.

I give them both a wicked smile and say, “Anyone who has to piss, come with me.” I turn around and walk toward the side of the gas station’s tiny store where the bathroom is. I don’t get far when Alexandra rushes up beside me. The faint scent of perfume wafts off of her, infiltrating my nose. It smells kind of like roses. Not too strong and fairly pleasant. You know, for a chick’s perfume.

“Hey, Trigger,” Ian says from behind me. I stop immediately. He never uses that stupid fucking nickname unless he’s trying to piss me off. Turning around, I give Ian a flat stare.

“Yeah?” I say. Ian’s frame is tight, and his hands are on his hips. Something’s pissed him off. But then, he’s been in one hell of a mood since we left Mendocino County. He doesn’t talk about it, but I know he has some fucked-up memories of Mancuso. Back when we were kids and my dad started hooking up with his mom, he used to have nightmares about how he got the scar that run from the tip of his left ear up to his eyebrow. He may be one disturbed bastard, but he couldn’t be more my brother than if the same blood ran through our veins. I hate that this shit is so fucking personal for him.

“Where are you going with the kid?” he asks. I shoot Alexandra a look, wondering what the difference is between him and me that he sees her as a kid. Then I remember that important little biological connection. By the time Ruby was pregnant with Alexandra and her twin brother Michael, Ian was old enough to know what was going on. My gut twists at the realization.

He loves her. He may not even think of it like that, but I see it in the worry lines around his eyes and the way he carries himself. She has no idea who he is, but he’s always known her. Every year that Ma lit two candles on Alexandra and Michael’s birthday, every Christmas that she pulled out those ornaments with their names on them, every time someone asked her about her kids…

In a way, we all love her. There has never been a Ruby without an Alexandra and a Michael. In that way, thinking of the weight of her presence in our family, I get why Ian looks like he can’t decide between barfing or starting a fight. We’re in the middle of nowhere and we have over two thousand more miles to log before we can chill out a bit. This somber shit has got to fucking go.

“Around back,” I say with a smirk. Ian’s expression darkens. Alexandra gasps, her wide brown eyes shooting up to mine. Her cheeks are beet red. She lowers her head back to the ground in obvious embarrassment.

“You’re not funny,” he responds. Ma scoffs from a distance and walks up to our small group. She gives me a light shove and turns, giving Ian a glare. Her face softens minutely as the pain in his features registers in her mind. Sometimes, when you know people well enough, you just know what they’re thinking. Mancuso, the scar on Ian’s face, the sacrifice she made so many years ago. It’s like I’m witness to the most excruciatingly painful moment either has ever experienced.

“You,” Ma says to Ian, “fill up the tank.” Wheeling around, she slaps my bicep. “I ought to rip your ear off for that comment, Ryan,” she says. And just like that, she’s back to being the woman who raised me—tough as nails and ready to take on anyone.

I walk away to check my phone for messages. So far, so good. The prospects know to call one of us if there’s a problem, and as of right now, I don’t have a single message. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I look up to see Ma waving me over to her. I close the distance between us, toss an arm over her shoulder, and bend down, kissing her cheek. Pop got it right when he hooked this one. She’s the only woman I think I’ll ever love.

“And this punk is Ryan, my step-son,” she tells Alexandra.

“Don’t let her tell you nothing,” I protest. “She lies.” Ma laughs loudly as Alexandra looks shocked as all hell. What kind of bubble has this chick been living in?

“See? A punk,” she says and jerks her thumb at me. “No respect.” For the first time since I saw her for the first time, Alexandra looks relaxed. A small laugh escapes her, and she shakes her head ruefully. Her laughter dies down quickly, and she shuffles her feet in the dirt before she spins around and rushes into the now vacant bathroom.

Ma’s smile falls as her eyes suddenly fill with tears. She wipes them away quickly. I can’t help but envelope her in a tight hug. With her head against my chest, I give her back a pat and kiss the top of her head. Sometimes I forget that this is hardest on Ma. I think we all do. She’s so fucking tough it’s easy to gloss over the reality of what’s happening here.

“Chill out, woman,” I say. “She’s real. She’s not going to fucking float away.” Ma sniffles then pushes me away with a clipped laugh. Pop walks up, and I happily hand her off to him. He married her, he can take care of this weepy shit. If he weren’t here, I’d do it, but being in Ma’s arms makes me feel like I’m ten years old all over again.

A hard object rams into my back, sending me toward the dirt floor. Pain radiates from my shoulder blades and shoots down my spine. I catch myself before my knees hit the ground, and spin around to see Chief—whose real name is Charles—grinning at me. Once recognition dawns, I throw my fist at his face, connecting with his jaw. It’s barely a second before he flies at me, fists wailing and excitement in his eyes. I fly backward from the impact and hit the ground with a heavy thud, this stupid bastard on top of me. I manage to throw him off only to move the wrong way and end up in a headlock. I need this shit. The adrenaline keeps me awake, and aware.

Pop shouts, getting everybody’s attention. I shove Chief off me and stand, brushing the dirt off my arms. Rig’s crew and the rest of our charter stop what they’re doing and form a loose circle in front of Pop, ready to hear what he has to say. As usual, his speech is short, it’s just not short enough. “We’re making good time. We need to keep it up. If anybody can’t keep up with the hours we’re pulling, turn in your fucking patch. We didn’t get this far to fuck up now. Straight through to Nevada, boys.”

I let my attention wander from Pop to the men surrounding me. They’re all silent and respectful enough. Despite the bored looks and tired eyes, they remain silent and keep their focus on Pop. Off in the distance stands Alexandra. Her eyes travel through the crowd with a sense of wonderment on her face. After all of the change she’s endured the last few days, it’s a wonder she can stand there with such a look of both curiosity and confidence.

Over the years, we’ve done our fair share of recon missions through the club. Everything from pulling hookers out of crack dens to helping a brother out of a sticky situation he’s found himself in. My brothers are always grateful for the assist, but the bitches we help usually act so fucking entitled that it’s almost not even worth it if I don’t get my dick sucked afterward. I mean, Christ. We’ve had our fair share of divas over the years.

But looking at Alexandra as she looks over the club with such intensity, and not an ounce of detest, makes me wonder what else is going on inside of her head. Finally, her eyes land on mine. She flinches in surprise then her expression warms. I can’t quite figure her out, but I’m going to try. She’s not someone I should be fucking around with, I already know that. And I don’t want to fuck anything up. She is family, after all. But damned if I’m not fucking baffled by her behavior. Her eyes widen and her plush lips part. Dick-sucking lips if I’d ever seen ‘em. Her eyes dart around before coming back to me.

A faint smile covers her face as she mouths the words that will be etched into my mind for months to come. She says, “Thank you,” like I’ve done something for her. The show of appreciation takes me aback, forcing me to break the stare for a moment before I regain focus on her face. And I can’t look away. Women don’t thank me much, even after I’ve fucked them just the way they want it. They don’t thank me when I do nice shit for them. But this chick thanks me in a way I’d have expected the least and I can’t look away until Ma exits the bathroom, walks up to her, and starts chatting her up. I force myself to go back to paying attention to Pop, but the only thing I can think about is this stupid girl and her gratitude. It makes me feel like I’ve done something worth doing, which I haven’t experienced in a long time. And I’m not sure I’m going to recover if she keeps appreciating shit.

Chapter 13

Ryan’s POV

FUCKING DUKE. HE thinks he’s paying me back or some shit. We go back all the way to elementary school. He was my brother even before we shared a patch. We’ve been through some shit, he and I. I got his back in anything. Anything but this.

“Princess wants to have fun,” he says, leading Cub down the hall with one arm slung over her shoulders and a “fuck you” grin on his face. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve heard him call her Princess, both to her face and when she’s not around, it still grates on me. I know damn well he doesn’t have a thing for her. His dick’s too wrapped up in wishing Nic would acknowledge his existence to develop any fucking feelings for Alex.

This chick—Mary, Melanie, Ellen, fuck if I know—continues to rub herself up against my dick. I’m barely at half-mast. The frustration builds inside, making me restless. Alex moves to pass me, her arm dangling at her side. Unable to help myself, I reach out and hook my index finger around her pinky. She’s so soft. Everything about her is soft, even the sass she throws on the rare occasion that she speaks to others. She doesn’t know I see her, but I do.

A rush of excitement builds in my gut, making me gasp. This chick—the one who’s sucking so hard on my fucking neck, I think she’s going to leave a bruise—takes it as a sign that she’s doing something right, and she runs a hand down my stomach and cups my dick.

Despite our connection, she continues to create a distance between us. It’s probably karma or some shit. I’m a dick to her, and she leaves me. But all I can do is stand here like a fucking tool, latching onto her pinky for dear life. Ever since I met her, that’s how I’ve been feeling. I’m off balance, and the club’s figured it out. I try to play it off, like I’m not desperate to get into her pussy or something, but they know better.

Just before we lose contact, her head spins around. She’s scowling. Her brows pull together, and her bottom lip juts out. But damned if it doesn’t feel good to have her look at me. It’s been months since I’ve spent any time around her, and even then it was brief. But she won’t go away, and I don’t know why. She’s everywhere and it’s fucking insufferable. Her dark brown hair falls around her shoulders, and she looks so young and yet so determined to grow up at the same time. She’s like a baby bear—a cub—little, but already so very fucking lethal. At least, that’s how it feels when she tears her eyes away from mine and passes through the kitchen by Duke’s side.

I strain to keep my body in place, but the need to follow her is overwhelming. Finally, having enough of the fucking vacuum at my neck, I give the bitch a gentle shove. I just need some distance. She’s gorgeous as shit and fucking stacked with some of the perkiest natural tits I’ve ever seen, but she’s also just too fucking eager. It used to be my thing, but not now. Now, I’m all kinds of fucked up with ideas of a gentle touch and a soft smile, and coy flirting. It’s the worst fucking thing I could be getting into, and yet I am.

“What’s wrong, baby?” the chick asks. Blowing out a frustrated breath, I practically spit a string of curse words at the wall before me. She blinks rapidly, and her face falls. Shit. Bitches who look like that aren’t as eager to ride my cock. I really don’t want to have to start over with another bitch. This one’s mostly ready to go.

“Nothing. Come on,” I say, grabbing her wrist and moving toward the kitchen. She doesn’t budge, and I stop in place. Looking back at her, I raise my eyebrows.

“Where are we going?” she asks, her eyes shooting to Cub’s bedroom door. An irrational flash of anger shoots through me at the thought of her in that room, on that bed. She has no fucking business being in that room.

“Do you want me to fuck you or not?” I ask in a harsher tone than I intend, but she gets the point. I’ve seen her around the clubhouse and in the palace. She’s got a thing for attention, and she’s taken some raunchy dick to get it. So she relents, just like I knew she would. I keep her wrist tight in my hand and lead her out of the house. It’s a typical party, maybe even a little tame. People are fucking around in every corner of this house. I find myself stumbling around drunk fuckers left, right, and sideways. It’s ridiculous and I love it. I miss this shit. Ma’s been low-key since she brought her cub home, probably worried she’ll think we’re all just a bunch of heathens—which we are.

It’s no coincidence that as we leave the house, Duke and Alex are a hundred feet or so in front of us. Walking through the backyard, I make sure not to lose them in the crowd. Up ahead, in the large red barn, it looks like some of the party guests are hot boxing the fucking thing. I pull the chick around the corner of the barn, shielded just enough so neither Duke nor Alex will see us.

She leans against the side of the barn and immediately goes to work on the button of my jeans, and then the fly. Pulling my jeans down just below my ass, and then slowly lowering my boxers, she gently pulls my dick free. I haven’t even come yet and I’m already over it. She licks her lips and smiles at me as she lowers herself to the ground. “You’re so big, baby.”

“Shut up,” I snap, unable to stop myself. “You wanted my dick, you got it.” Ignoring my attitude, she lets her tongue glide against my tip, and finally I’m starting to feel something.

On the other side of the barn, Alex presses herself up against Duke—my fucking brother. This fucker and I, we share a patch, and that is supposed to mean more than fine pussy. I place my hand against the bar to keep myself steady as this chick works her magic on my dick while her hand cups my balls. It’s starting to feel pretty fucking euphoric, but then his hand moves to her hip, sneaks around to her ass. And I’m numb.

I barely feel her lips on my dick as I watch his tongue shove into Alex’s mouth. My hand aches from the way I’m gripping the aged wood of the barn. The way Duke touches her makes everything else in the world fade away. He’s seducing her, just like he’s done to so many others. Lowering her to the grass, I feel a twinge of anger start to build. This is so wrong—all of it. Him doing her, me watching him do it. I’ve seen brothers run a train on some bitch I didn’t even know, and it didn’t faze me. But this is different. I know Alex, and I don’t think she can handle what he’s about to do to her.

Suddenly, my dick is cold. I look down and see the chick has stopped doing her thing. Instead, she’s standing up, and pulling a condom out of her pocket. I shake my head and pull one of my own out. Call me paranoid, but I’m not about to knock some chick up. Especially one whose name I don’t even know.

Making quick work of the condom, I roll it onto my dick and spin her around, pushing her front up against the side of the barn. Eagerly, she discards her clothes and kicks them aside. I don’t know why she bothered with her top. I’m not in the mood to motorboat her tits or anything. She tries to turn, but I place my hand between her shoulder blades to keep her in place. I use one hand to keep her steady and the other to guide myself in. She moans loudly, irritating me. All I want to think about is her pussy, but all I can think about is Cub’s. She’s got to be tighter than this; sweeter, too. I bury myself in this used up cunt, then pull out, and ram myself back in. She murmurs something unintelligible. She’s enjoying this way too fucking much, and I’m not enjoying it at all.

Duke shifts just enough, providing me a clear view of Alex as she lies, with her jean shorts unbuttoned and peeled open, on the damp grass. Above her, Duke trails his hand down her stomach, and then over her underwear. I can’t see the top of her panties, but I know that move. Sure enough, he hooks a finger beneath the fabric. Everything I’ve been feeling, and everything I’ve lied to myself about feeling, boils to the surface. Blind rage takes over, and I push this chick up against the barn. Her only response is to moan in delight as I batter her with my dick.

Alex squirms and then lets out a breathy moan. My stomach clenches and my visions hazes over. This stupid bitch whines and tries to shove off the barn. Giving her a firm, but slight, push, I wrap a hand around her hair and tilt her head back just a bit. “Enjoy it. This is the only time you’re getting my dick,” I say.

“You’re being too rough,” she protests, but I ignore her and tighten my grip on her hair.

“Ow. Careful,” she whimpers, but it’s not enough to make me stop what I’m doing. Again and again, I pummel myself inside of her. Watching Alex writhe under Duke’s touch crosses signals in my brain, makes my chest pound, and makes my mouth go dry. Like the sick fuck that I am, I fine-tune my movements in time with his. If I zero in on the arch of her back and the sounds of her orgasm as it builds, I can pretend it’s my dick inside her and this bitch and Duke are nothing but a fucking memory.

“It hurts,” she says in a harsh tone, but it doesn’t matter. Alex tosses her head back and she grips the grass beside her. Watching her fall apart like that forces my own orgasm out. My head pounds as I come, still ramming into her pussy, but letting go of her hair.

Barely coming down off of her high, I have to watch as Duke stands, and licks her juices off of his finger, and then walk away. I still myself and pull out, then toss the condom off into the grass and pull my pants up the rest of the way. But I don’t move. The chick turns around and tries to kiss me like we’re a fucking couple now or some shit. Barely able to manage it, I say, “Go.”

And she does, and I’m left to watch Cub as she cries in silence in the damp grass.