Page 22 of Rider Daddies (Venom Vultures MC #6)

LUCIA

Whoops.

It wasn’t exactly on my agenda tonight to kill someone, but that’s life.

To be honest, I didn’t think my life could get much worse after seeing Tristan necking Willow before my wedding, but oh, things are so terrible now that I wouldn’t even use the word “worse” to describe this.

It would be worse if I felt bad for what I did.

But I don’t.

Manual Lombardi was a seasoned pedo.

Three days chained up inside his abandoned motel told me everything I needed to know—that he deserved to be in his grave. Actually, he doesn’t even deserve to be buried. His body should be chopped or burned, or both, for what he’s been doing to girls all of these years.

I stand over him, taking in his disgusting features, and thank the Lord that he’ll never walk the earth again.

Blood and snot ooze out of his nostrils, the same for his mouth. His face is drenched in a victorious red, the pathetic three-piece ruined from the wound in his chest.

The knife is still thrust into him. I should probably take it out, but even when cleaned, I just know the weapon will be tainted with the memory of him. Cold, psychopathic Manual, a man who made bank by selling the bodies of his victims.

“Holy fuck, Lucia.”

Footsteps grow closer.

I want to look away, but also, I’m quite happy drinking in the sight of justice.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” Ryder stands next to me, looking down at Manual with me.

“I can.”

Is that Saint?

I turn around and see him plodding over, weapon abandoned. Between the spotlights of moonlight, I see a smile on his face, which brings me some pleasure.

Ash regards me from several meters away, like he’s confused about something.

Don’t worry, Ash. Same here.

What does this make me now? Lawyer-turned-vigilante?

Jesus.

I turn to look at them, all rough around the edges looking like characters from my favorite TV show. But I don’t care how handsome they all look, or how many times I clenched my thighs together seeing them in action getting dirty.

They only came here to save me.

They didn’t give a fuck about any of the other victims.

Which means I have a problem with them.

Sons of bitches.

But I’m going crazy with arousal, even though I’m fucking pissed. At the end of the day, they still look like they could give me the time of my life, which is what I originally wanted from them…right?

Good, regrettable sex.

Who knew that it would lead to murder at the motel?

God, that’ll be the name of my court case.

“What other choice did I have?” I say.

“What do you mean?” Ryder asks.

“It was the only way to save them.”

I peer up to see some girls out of their rooms, watching from the walkway. Their faces are hidden in the darkness, but I can practically hear the collective sigh of relief.

Ryder and Saint turn to each other, raising a brow, but the exchange is cut short. Manual might be dead, but his crew certainly isn’t.

Two of the survivors lunge forward, beginning a second round. If it wasn’t for Ash still standing a good few meters away, we’d be fucked. He disarms one of Manual’s men and makes an attack on the other.

Ryder, since he didn’t get the chance the first time around, shoots his shot and lifts me up into his arms. With my head smashed against his shoulder, I can’t see, but I have a general sense of direction and know just where we’re heading—the exit.

“What about all of the other girls?”

“They can get out. That’s the most important part.”

“Get out? You make it seem like they can take the train and be home in twenty. May I remind you that we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere?”

“I’m very aware,” Ryder snaps. “May I also remind you that we’ve all killed tonight, including you.

Would you like us to be here when the cops arrive?

Investigations for all of the victims might’ve been made cold cases, but what about Manual’s dead men?

Families will be filing missing person reports, police will be investigating.

Come on. You’re a lawyer. You’re supposed to know these things. ”

That’s true. I do know these things, because I am a lawyer.

But can lawyers still practice the law when they’ve committed homicide?

Tristan’s law firm is off the cards, but there’s gonna be a lot to choose from out here in Nevada, especially so near Sin City itself.

I could start again and build a name for myself…

But not now.

Not after I shoved a knife into Manual’s chest and sent him to hell.

Things might be more complicated now.

As much as I hate to admit it, Ryder might have a point.

If we’re found here on scene, the cops could take us into questioning…

and then what? Even if they find out that Manual is the owner of a sex trafficking ring and drop my case, my involvement in all of this could get the Venom Vultures into shit.

They were here at the scene too.

They also killed people.

What if their club gets broken up?

As pissy as I am with them right now, I can’t forget that they did save my life.

I owe them that at least.

Ryder throws me over the back of his bike and forces me to straddle the seat. He climbs on after me and revs the engine, the other two catching up. “Let’s get out of here before sunrise.”

“Good idea,” Saint says. “We’ll have to hurry.” He looks up at the sky.

As pretty as the sequences of red and pink look, he’s right. A new day is here and I’m not ready to step into the light just yet. I want a day to hide away in darkness and wrap my head around what the fuck just happened.

I bite my lip. I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to Allie.

“What’s the possibility of us coming back at a later date to save them? Like, tomorrow?”

“Are you out of your mind?” Ash explodes, readying his bike behind me. “It’s only a matter of time before the cops come around?—”

“Sniffing us out, yeah, got it,” I say, sharper than I intend to be.

Ryder catches my eyes in the side-view mirror. “Trust me when I say this—you can’t save everyone.”

The other two brothers’ eyes linger on him for a moment. I frown, flicking my gaze between them all. Has it been a rough night, or is that line poignant to them in some way?

The engines rev before I can think anymore of it, and then we’re off, cruising into the desert toward the sunrise.

Toward… home?

It might have to be home now, considering what I’ve done.

I roll back my head, completely disregarding the fact that I should be wearing a helmet. Oh well. More serious illegal acts have been committed tonight.

In spite of it all, the ride is nice. I fill my lungs with fresh air and enjoy the feeling of the wind brushing through my hair, like nature’s hair salon. This must be why they joined the club in the first place. Unless recreational drugs are your thing, nothing can really match this high.

The sunrise is coming in fast, gradients of color expanding into the sky. It feels rewarding and I’m not sure why. Everything here is backward.

I just killed someone and now I’m getting to see the sunrise?

I raise one hand, shielding my eyes from the sun, and I wrap the other around Ryder, using it as an excuse to get closer to him. Even his sweat smells nice. You could bottle it up and sell it as cologne.

But it’s not just his scent. God, it’s fucking everything. I can still feel the hard ripples of his torso under his many layers of clothing. All I want to do is glide my tongue over each bulge, feeling hard-earned muscle underneath.

Killers shouldn’t be this irresistible.

Why does God make the villains of this world look like absolute hunks? If he wanted us to take the good path and live a life full of peace and prosperity, why design the baddies of the world to be so picture-perfect?

It’s quite the question. The more time I spend with these guys, the more I’m convinced that they’re not actually bad. Not in the slightest.

Manual and Tristan are the literal definitions of hell on earth. Tristan might try and disguise it with the luxe suits and stylish hairdos, but it only gets him so far.

Speaking of the devil…

I wonder where he’s flown away to now that I killed the captain of his ship. Will he be pissed that I ruined this for him? Is he already planning the first phase of his revenge plan to throw me under the bus? Is he on the run from the cops—same as us?

“You look concerned,” Ryder points out.

“I’m fine.”

“You killed somebody who deserved it. So what?”

“I’m not concerned about that. Not at all.”

Ryder studies me in the side-view mirror like this isn’t new information to him.

Is it bad that I took a fresh breath of air when Manual took his last?

Answer—no.

Not at all.

There are only two other highs that beat a cruise through the desert, and both are on par with each other—killing Manual, and being tied to a table by the brothers.

In most cases, things get easier when you give them time.

But a casual midnight kill is not like most cases at all.

I take another big gulp from my tequila on the rocks and set it down hard on the bar, feeling the satisfying burn travel down my throat.

It was different when Tristan cheated on our wedding day. It stung like a bitch, but I still had the chance to resume my life as normal, and to make the tuition fees that my family paid off worthwhile.

Mamma always told me how proud she was of me for going after what I wanted.

Would she be proud if she could see me now, working as a bartender for a motorcycle club? Is this what I want?

I don’t know.

But I don’t really have a choice anymore.

I no longer have the option to resume my life and jump back into the nine-to-five. I took that freedom away from myself when I took somebody’s life.

And yes, I might get away with it being an act of self-defense, but not without a complex investigative case first. One that would probably drag the Venom Vultures into all of the mess.

Do I want them locked up? No.

But if I come back after sex when I have it out of my system, my answer might be different…

“I heard what you did last night,” says the biker that’s next in line to order.