Page 23 of Rider Daddies (Venom Vultures MC #6)

God, sounds like I’ve caused havoc in the bedroom.

I offer him a smile, short and sweet. “I’m sure the news has done its rounds.”

“Straight in the heart.” He tweaks an eyebrow. “Impressive. We could use somebody like you around here.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you have enough?”

“Can I take your order?” Ash swoops in next to me, taking over.

I step aside and let him have it. At this point, I’m too emotionally overwhelmed to cause a fight right now…maybe at a later date…if undressing is involved.

He finishes serving the biker and turns around to me, hand on his hip. “You should stay here for a while longer.”

“If you want to sleep with me, just say.”

Ash isn’t amused and stares down at me with his heartbreaker eyes. “It’s best that you’re out of the way.”

“I killed someone, I know.”

His frown deepens. “Why did you do it?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Same reason as everybody else here—heat of the moment. He was getting under my skin. Why waste a prison cell on a man like him? To repent for his sins, he deserves death.”

Ash widens his eyes. It’s a small expression that I wouldn’t have seen if I wasn’t already looking at him.

Is my answer satisfactory?

Does it live up to his standards?

He looks at me the same way he did out on the battlefield, studying me like I’m a manual he’s trying to wrap his head around. He finishes with the staring when he’s ready—because everybody seems to work around Ash’s clock—and gives me a nod. “You did good.”

I bite my lip. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“You surprised me, that’s all.” He takes a step in. “But on another note, I’m not playing around. You need to stay here and lie low while the cops do their thing. If they found out that you were responsible, I’d hate for you to be—” He cuts himself off. “It doesn’t matter. Get back to work.”

He walks away, leaving me alone behind the bar with my thoughts.

He’d hate for me to be…what?

Arrested?

Found guilty?

Lots of men were killed. I suppose everyone is feeling a little sensitive tonight. He doesn’t want me escaping, acting rash and accidentally getting the club caught up in the cross fire.

That’s the cause for alarm.

Right?

I take another long sip from my drink and get back on task.

It’s midweek and tonight isn’t anything special, so things aren’t as wild as they were when I first arrived.

Crowds tonight are sparse. There are a few tables of jeering men, but for the most part, they’re keeping to themselves, which means it’s easy bucks.

Ryder catches my eyes from across the bar. Ever since I got back here this morning, he’s been acting weird, giving me half glances. Not being around me longer than he needs to be.

Maybe it has something to do with the ride back. My arm was around his body…which is fine, right? Don’t get it twisted, I still wanted to rip his clothes off, but I didn’t.

Judging by the avoidance, anybody would think that we fucked behind the other two brothers’ backs or something.

Like I would ever do such a thing…

He’s probably pissed, same as Ash. They put their club in jeopardy enough by riding out to save me. Me murdering a man only makes this worse for them…

I bring the tequila to my lips again, finishing off the rest of the drink to take the edge off. I want to be mellow. I want all of the anxieties floating around in my stomach to be crushed.

What if I get caught?

What if I’m the reason police break up the club?

Why did I get such a kick out of killing…?

Tequila—I’m begging for you to save me.

I lift onto my tiptoes and unscrew a bottle, pouring a generous amount into my glass, topping up with ice.

On top of all this madness, I still have Tristan on my mind. You’d think that murdering a man would distract you from the other troubles going on in your life.

Wrong.

Tristan’s betrayal still stings like a high school bitch. For one full year, he had me fooled. Why didn’t I see the signs?

Looking over the lip of my glass, I spot Ryder, Saint, and Ash immersed in deep conversation over in the back corner.

They’re a package deal if I’ve ever seen one.

The fine lines on their faces make the concept of aging seem appealing. One look at them has my heart flipping. Seeing them rush to my protection last night is up there as one of the greatest things to go down in history.

Their faces, hardened in fury.

Their bodies, like human wrecking balls, ready to fight.

Don’t even get me started on the way Ryder swept me off my feet and carried me like I was nothing. I was mad at him in the moment for ignoring all of the other victims—still am—but if I isolate the moment when he flung me over his shoulder and killed to protect me, it gets me wet.

Very wet.

Maybe the tequila wasn’t such a good idea. All it does is enhance my sexual attraction toward them.

I’m running out of panties. I keep getting them soaked.

They’re all to blame.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll go commando and put on a little show of my own.

See how long they can resist…

If it’s anything like it was a few nights ago when we were all in extremely high spirits, they stand zero chance.

And let’s not forget that they still want to “claim” me.

Brand me as theirs.

They think this means that they can each have me separately…shame they’re about to sign without reading the terms and conditions first.

A message pings through on my phone just as I’m about to pick up from where we left off.

It’s Mamma asking how things are going.

My heart does a little tug. I pick up the device and stare at the screen, zombified. Mamma and I don’t lie.

But technically, it’s not lying if I keep information from her.

I text back that I’m fine and safe—just needed to get away to clear my head. I avoid the topic of when she can expect me to be back. Can I ever return to normality after manslaughter?

Fuck me.

I set the phone down and pick up my drink, letting the warm burn send my body into relaxation mode.

“Who are you texting?” Ash has spawned at the bar and is now peering down at me.

“Another guy. You mad?”

“No,” he deadpans, perhaps a little too defensively. “Just as long as none of the murders make breaking news.”

I narrow my eyes. “What did you mean earlier before you cut yourself off? You’d hate for me to be…what?”

Ash does the usual—stares at me like he doesn’t care. I wait for him to finish his episode, knowing roughly how long it’s going to take.

But he keeps going.

Standing.

Staring.

Looking sexy.

He only stares at me for long periods of time because he’s proud of his eye color. I would be too if I looked like a husky in human form. He even has the blend of white and iron-gray hair working in his favor.

Mind, you wouldn’t ever want to pet him.

With Saint, I’d be happy to go in with the old heat pat—I get the impression that he doesn’t mind the attention.

With Ash, it’s different. He looks so cold. That’s why I was taken aback the other night when his warm hands brushed over my skin. It was like they were supposed to be there.

Is it too much of a stretch to say that it’s me who does the “heating up?” It’s hardly a compliment. If it walks, breathes, has a pulse and a vagina, it’s enough to raise their dicks.

Which is why when I extend my vision to Ryder to see his back turned away from me, I’m confused. Three days ago he wanted to have some fun and “claim” me.

“Are you gonna stand there looking pretty, or are you gonna answer my question?” I fold my arms over my chest. “Come on. I can’t wait all night.”

Ash shakes out of his daze and returns to reality. “I can’t remember our earlier conversation. But you’re staying here…yes?”

“Um,” is the only word that comes out of my mouth at first. “Yes.”

My tongue is getting dry. Time for another gulp of tequila. I pick up the glass, take a gulp and cradle it in my hands, watching as the other two brothers wander their way over.

“What the hell is up with you tonight?” It’s perhaps a bit brazen to address Ryder’s distant behavior straightaway, but I can’t help the way tequila affects me. “You’ve been acting weird all night. What is it? You’re pissed that I might’ve got the club and everything you hold dear in trouble?”

He flinches at the last bit.

Crickets.

I stick my hand into the air. “Hello? No snarky comment?”

He continues looking at me, straight-faced.

As straight-faced as you can expect from a man with striking facial harmony.

“Damn,” I say. “There really is something up.”

Ash interrupts me with a sigh. Trust this man to have me speechless without even saying anything. “Lucia, we wanted to speak about something. The arrangement we were discussing?—”

“It’s arranged.”

They still wanna “claim” me even though I got them into shit?

“I don’t think you quite understand where we’re coming from.”

“What is there to understand?” I take another sip of my drink. “Out of everybody in the world, you of all people should know that sex isn’t anything serious. It’s something we should have fun doing while we’re still able to move and bend our bodies that way.”

“Yeah,” Saint says. “We agree, but claiming is serious stuff.”

Damn, it must be if he’s lighting up a cigarette for it.

He continues after taking a drag. “Birds.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you know what’s special about them? They mate for life. They only get intimate with one partner…until that partner dies. And even then, sometimes they can’t move on, forever dwelling on their only?—”

“Get to the point,” prompts Ash.

“Yeah, the point. Right .” Saint takes another smoke. “The point is, that’s how it’ll be for you and us.”

I scoff. “‘Till death do us part? Yeah. No. I’m not seeking another marriage failure.”

This isn’t a joke. All three of them have that pleading look in their eye, like they’re waiting for me to agree.

If they want to take me to bed so badly, why don’t they just do it? Why must there be procedures? Protocols?

Not like I’m opposed…

I quite like the idea of being marked.

It’s animalistic. Veers in the opposite direction from the vanilla lifestyle I’ve been living for far too long.

The idea is great, but still makes me roll my eyes.

In it for life.

I’ll believe it when I see it.

“This isn’t a marriage, darling,” Ryder says, breaking his sponsored silence.

“Right. It’s a tattoo. Those things are supposed to last forever. A lot of things are supposed to last forever.” God, take away my drink already. “Love, marriage, the human soul…”

“What are you saying?” Ryder asks.

“I’m saying that it’s bullshit.” If only I was strong enough to pour the rest of this drink down the sink… “Don’t get it twisted, I want in on the whole ‘claiming’ cult thing, but I don’t have to believe you. That’s not part of the contract, right, or have I just written it in?”

“No,” Ash chokes out. He looks distressed, which would be a first. “It’s not in the contract.”

“Good.” I slam the glass down on the bar. “Because nothing is forever. And just when you think something’s about to be…” I slap my hand on the bar hard, causing Saint to stall his next nicotine hit. “BAM! Life gives you a plot twist and it all ends in tears.”

Ryder’s brows have migrated so far up his forehead that they’re almost touching his hairline.

Ash, on the other hand, does the usual and stares at me like he’s doing a psychology reading. He wants to figure me out. See how life shaped up to make me the way I am.

So, I’ll save him from guessing.

“Everything’s piacevole until the comfort becomes boring and the urge to jump into bed with that bitch Gianna two streets over grabs you by the balls.

” I neck down the rest of the tequila, using the empty glass as an extension of my hand to emphasize my point.

“ I didn’t mean to, it was an accident. Mamma never believed him, but I did.

He didn’t mean to. It was an accident. You know why?

” I answer my own question before giving the audience time to respond.

“Because it’s built into their biology. That’s why. ”

The three of them are taken aback, astounded like I’ve dropped a bomb and it’s changed the course of reality.

That was exactly my intention.

And they know I’m telling the truth. Outlaw motorcyclists are supposed to know what they want. They’re supposed to agree with me because they know that what I just said is facts.

F-A-C-T-S.

But they’re not agreeing with me.

Instead, they look at me with furrowed brows, like what I just said is garbage.

“Let us be the first men in your life to prove you wrong,” Ash says.

All I can do is frown.

“We won’t let you down.”

I’m surprised to hear that one come out of Ryder’s mouth.

Is this the first time he’s being serious with me? Better yet, is this the first time that they’re coming together in agreement…for me? Damn, how bad do they want to get laid?

The real question is—how bad do I?

Something unexplainable is going on between us that I don’t understand.

But seeing all of those girls in the motel has been a wake-up call.

You don’t always have to find an explanation for something. Wanting to do something is enough…if it makes you happy… enough.

Life is too short.

I think about the dead bodies littered in the parking lot late last night.

One flick of a trigger.

One stab.

Life is fragile, and it’s over quicker than your next breath.

We might’ve made it out of there alive, but nobody , not even God’s favorites, win the game of life. Everybody dies at some point. We all end up as corpses.

We’ll all be things of the past one day. Memories.

So, fuck it. It doesn’t have to be forever and it doesn’t have to be true.

In life, if you want something, you have to reach out with both arms and grab it.

Although in my case that might be tricky, seeing as there’s three of them…