Page 18 of Rider Daddies (Venom Vultures MC #6)

The signs were there. Maybe I was choosing not to see them.

How the hell did he afford to come to work dripping in new luxury designer clothing every single day?

He never wore the same outfit twice, and I can vouch for that because I walked into his closet enough times to know.

Tom Ford. Ermenegildo Zegna. Saint Laurent.

Lawyers receive handsome paychecks, but they’re not handsome enough to build state-of-the-art penthouses.

To be able to afford fine dining every single day of the week on their lunch breaks.

The footsteps enter the reception lobby.

Damn, I hope the paychecks that Manual hands over are worth it.

Without a second thought, I launch myself over the front desk and do what any normal human being would—growl into the man’s face.

But oh, this isn’t any old man.

This is Tristan.

I should’ve sensed that stench from a mile off.

He grabs my hand while I still have it pressed to his shoulder, and takes control of it. I’m dragged by my ass along the desk, the piles of papers taking to the air.

“What are you doing down here? You shouldn’t be down here.”

“You’re asking me what I’m doing here?” I stare at his face. It’s repulsive, which is odd.

Less than a week ago, I adored everything about it. His brown eyes. The mustache, tamed or untamed. It was the way he used to call me beautiful, staring at me with adoration, like I was the only girl that mattered in the world.

He’s staring at me with the same look now.

I seize the opportunity to throw him off, but his reflexes are too fast, gripping my wrist harder.

“You have something seriously wrong with you,” I say.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay in your room.”

“Well, that’s the issue—I don’t know what’s good for me,” I scoff.

“And don’t give me that look. Don’t act like you care about me.

Drop the act. You might as well. I like to think that I can tolerate a lot of things, but there is one thing I do not take lightly, and that’s when somebody has gone out of their way to waste my time. ”

“Waste your time?”

“Three hundred and sixty-five days of lies, Tristan! Don’t you dare act confused.” My heart is in my throat. “Tell me. If you wanted to kidnap me and bring me into the trafficking ring, why play the long game? Why not cut to the chase and knock me out like Manual did tonight?”

He stares at me for a minute, brown eyes scanning across my face. I expect him to have a good answer ready that will explain all of this, but instead, he chuckles.

“You think this is a joke?” I ask.

“No, but it’s funny that you think I did all of this because of the ring.”

“What other explanation is there?”

Tristan narrows his eyes, watching me with that same infatuated expression he used to give me every day. Does he think that we’re still together?

Did he not hear the part where I called it off?

Finally, his face turns serious. “You confuse me, Lucia.”

“Cry me a river.”

“Here you are kicking up a fuss about what I’ve done, when you were tied up to a table by three outlaw bikers last night. You didn’t move an inch. I didn’t see you shouting in their faces, kicking up a storm.”

“Not everybody is as vanilla as you are, Tristan.”

“Did you fuck them?”

“That’s none of your business. What part of not being together anymore don’t you understand?”

“It’s a simple question. Answer it.”

“I don’t have to fucking answer to you.”

“Answer me!”

“No!” I yell, perhaps a little too loud for the surroundings. “But I wish I had.”

That gets him going. His face twists into something grotesque—jealousy in its worst form. He might as well be green. He clearly can’t stand the thought of me being with another man that isn’t him.

“Why are you being like this?” he asks.

“Cry all you want. If you liked me so much, you wouldn’t have kissed Willow on our wedding day.”

I expect him to make an excuse, but it’s too late for that.

Tristan grits his teeth and grabs the skirt of my dress, pulling me toward him. More paperwork takes to the air, wafting all around us.

I let him get closer to me, hoping that this will all work out in my favor. I need to search his pockets for a key into the office, and I can only do that if I’m fighting him.

He drags me off the front desk, and I fall on my ass.

That’s no way to treat an ex-lover.

He drags me up from the floor and wraps his hands around me, forcing me away from the desk, back down into the corridor.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, struggling in his hold.

“You are your own worst enemy. I’m doing you a favor. You should be grateful that it’s me who found you down here. If it was anyone else, you’d be in the doghouse by now, being passed around by—” He can’t even finish the sentence himself. “Never mind.”

Taking advantage of our unfortunate closeness, I slip a hand into his jacket, blindly searching for a key.

I don’t expect to come across it so fast.

Bingo.

I pull it out and carefully slot it between my breasts under the corset. Tristan is so busy trying to rein me in that he doesn’t even realize.

I suppose psychological manipulation never worked out for him, so now he’s trying to pursue me by other means. Physical strength has never been his strong suit, but he still somehow appears to be stronger than me.

He slides me further down the corridor.

Dammit.

“I really don’t want to do this, Lucia, but I’m afraid you’ve proven to be too much of a liability. I have no other option but to bolt you in.”

Fuck.

I grit my teeth and twist around in his grip, fighting to head back to reception. I fight to keep my feet planted firmly on the carpeted floor. For a second, it works…until Tristan scoops me up into his arms.

That’s when I catch another person entering my peripheral vision.

Allie sneaks from under the front desk and picks up the abandoned coffee cup. She sticks it up at me, trying to signal something to me with her frightened eyes.

Catch , I think is what she’s mouthing.

I cup my hands and follow the mug as it sails through the air, heart beating out of my chest. It’s now or never.

I catch the mug with both hands and don’t think twice about what I do next. Converting all my anger to strength, I smash the mug into Tristan’s head with all I’ve got, the pieces of clay shattering all over his face.

“Aaaaa, you fucking brat!”

Down he goes…

But not for long.

I separate from him and think on my feet about how I’m going to stall him next. Reaching for his groin, I pinch his dick between my fingers and tug as hard as I can, ending the attack with a painful boot into his balls.

He lands flat on his ass—a position I’d like to see him in forever. A man like Tristan deserves to lie on the floor in pain, clutching his nothing-special dick as he repents for his sins…or tries to, at least.

I head back toward the front desk, slip out the key, and insert it into the office door.

It clicks.

And open sesame.

“Oh my god!” I turn to Allie gleefully. “Come on in.”

“Lucia—”

“Now, before he wakes back up again.”

I lock us both inside the office and jump onto the computer.

“What are you doing?”

“Sending a message to some people.”

“The motorcyclists?”

“Yes, they might be able to get us out of here.”

At the moment, I’m clutching at straws. The chances of them risking everything to save a girl they don’t even know are slim.

But it’s all we’ve got.

The benefit of being on a sex offender’s computer is that they make sure to keep everything top secret. I activate the VPN and make sure to surf the web using a private browser, deleting cookies as I go so both the law and the bastardos running this place don’t detect anything.

“Moonpig? Sending birthday cards isn’t much of an emergency.”

“Oh, but it is.” I scroll and select the first card option I see, hovering over the edit button to type out my own personal message.

Before doing that, I bring up a new tab and search compass, retrieving a set of coordinates that I copy and paste into the card’s personal message.

Then, I head to the basket and type in the delivery address at the Venom Vultures clubhouse, something that is actually more of a breeze than I thought it would be, given that the clubhouse is on the map, disguised as an abandoned stronghold from the frontier era.

“Now what?”

I click pay now , paying with account details that are already saved on the system.

“Now,” I say, staring at the payment successful screen. “We stay low for a few days and hope that our modern-day Prince Charmings will find it in their hearts to come and rescue all of us.”

Allie forces a smile. “I hope you’re right about this.”

I hope so too.

For the sake of our lives, I hope the bikers are human enough to send out a rescue party and save us. Ryder, Ash, and Saint might have pissed me off, but I’m not done with them.

Not yet.

I’m still waiting for my regrettable fuck.