Page 7 of Rider Daddies (Venom Vultures MC #6)

If I hadn’t caught Tristan cheating, and was still living my life in equilibrium mode, I think I’d be scared of these guys, Ash especially.

Their presences are all so commanding, their broad bodies taking up so much space.

Ash is the quiet, calculating one. He doesn’t listen to what comes out of people’s mouths.

Instead, he mind-reads. In his case, the eyes really are the gateway to the soul.

So, he’ll be able to sense that I’m not intimidated in the slightest.

I’m fucking pissed off.

“You’re not fucking keeping me here. I’m a human being, not a pet.”

The brothers flash one another hard glances.

“Oh, yes, I’m sure this is all very riveting for you. Don’t you have enough female company here?”

“That’s not what this is,” Saint says. “If you were listening properly, you would know that we have to keep you here.”

“Keep telling yourselves that.”

“No,” Ash says. His voice sounds like thunder, knocking me off guard. “We can’t risk it.”

“Risk what exactly? A runaway bride escaping a culty clubhouse as well as her own wedding?” I scoff. “Seriously? What are you expecting me to do? Run to Vegas and tattle on you to the cops? Don’t you think I have enough on my mind already?”

On my mind: When can we arrange another group appointment?

But they don’t need to know that.

“I get it,” Ash says. “But we can’t take any risks. Grizzly says that you have to stay here. He gives the orders. We obey.”

“Jesus and his fucking disciples.”

“No,” Saint says. “That’s not what this is.”

I narrow my eyes at Ryder, pointing. “ You have a Judas look about you. What do you think?”

Saint rolls his head back and sighs.

“I’m with my bros on this one,” Ryder says. “As head of security, I think it’s best for you to stay here.”

I chew my lip. It’s a good thing these guys are decent to look at. They’re also lucky that I’m mentally unstable. If my mind was thinking straight, I think I would have escaped by now and gone straight to the cops, urging them to break up whatever in the Hell’s Angels is going on here.

But I’m still here.

Why?

Because they showed me a good time last night, and have nice faces.

Gorgeous faces.

God definitely has his favorites, and it’s them…but these brothers are too innocent to be children of God. I think Hades himself was involved in the process of making these three.

I look up at them, impressed by their great heights. Why am I still having pussy palpitations? They’re basically kidnapping me, keeping me here, and my pussy thinks it’s a cause for celebration.

It’s fucking not.

I suppose this is because I’m not fully regretting my decisions last night.

Obviously, being publicly fingered in a room full of motorcyclist criminals wasn’t enough to make me wake up this morning in full cringe mode.

They’re keeping me here, but let’s be honest, I’m quite happy about that. I need distraction, something to take my mind off Tristan. As long as they don’t kill me, I think I’ll be fine.

I perk up on the bed, remembering pieces of conversation from the meeting. “Who’s Manual Lombardi?”

“A saggy-assed fucker whose hair started receding at twenty,” Ryder says.

“Twenty-one,” corrects Ash.

I arch my eyebrow.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter about him,” Ryder says. “You should be glad that you stumbled on this place. I would’ve hated for you to get tangled up with him. These open roads aren’t built for young, pretty”—his eyes veer to my chest—“women like you.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” I say. “Aside from the asshole thing, who is he?”

“A perverted son-of-a-bitch,” Ash says.

“Yeah,” adds Saint. “Six months ago, we were gonna kill him, but he went ghost so we assumed the feds had taken care of everything.”

“Kill?”

I shouldn’t be surprised. But I just always assumed these people were fictional. You hear of stories and conspiracies, but you don’t buy it. And if the stories happened to be true—no stress, these people are miles away from you and civilization, anyway.

“Yes, kill,” Ash says. “The man is a seasoned kingpin. Nobody knows how many sex trafficking rings he has going on. A person like that deserves to be hung, publicly.”

“He deserves much worse than that,” Ryder says. “I’d love to chop off his balls and force him to eat them.”

Nice conversation.

Ash clears his throat, punching Ryder in the side to remind him that a lady is still present in the room.

Ryder stands by his comment.

Jesus. You hear people talk about death hypothetically. It’s a whole other kettle of fish when people are actually intending to follow through with their words.

I fold my arms over my chest, regarding all three of them. If puppy-eyed, loving Tristan can’t be trusted, then what does that make these lean, mean killing machines?

At least these guys don’t pretend.

Tristan kissed me and told me that he loved me every day , but it turned out that this whole time, he’s had ulterior motives. The whole thing was an act. Whether the act was meant to keep himself convinced or me, the fact still stands that he is one sneaky bastardo .

But these three brothers, I’m not so sure…

The sexual attraction is distracting. I can’t see past how fucking gorgeous they all are. They look like they belong on the front cover of Vogue. They’re handsome, tatted villains.

I’m tired of the heroes.

In fact, I don’t believe they exist.

Heroes are just villains, but worse.

Ugh. I have no idea where my head is at. I don’t think I even have a head at this point.

I clench my thighs together. We’re off to a bad start if, already, I’m accepting the fact that they’re trapping me here. What’s next? They chop off my arm?

Oh, it’s okay, I forgive you. As long as you don’t rip out my eyes so I can still gawp at you all, we’re good.

I heave a sigh. “Okay. Now what? I just sit here all day while you ride off into the sunset, human bodies slung over your shoulders?”

“You watch too much TV,” Ash says.

“Then, what?” I hitch my arms further up over my chest. “When am I free to go?”

The brothers share another look. It doesn’t look good. The crease between their iron-gray brows suggests that they don’t want to be the ones to deliver the bad news. I watch their faces and all I can think about is how hot fine lines look on them.

“Never?” I finally say after shaking off my trance. “I stay here forever?”

“Of course not, darling,” Saint says. “It’s something we’ll have to discuss in meetings.”

“You don’t trust me to keep quiet? I can sign a nondisclosure—” I stop myself before my mouth gets away from me. Best to not say too much. It’s important to remember that I’m still chasing my paralyzing regret.

“Okay, fine—here’s the deal. I stay here on one condition.” I narrow my eyes, watching them. “You give me a job.”

Ash turns feverish. “What kind of job?”

Ryder’s jaw hardens, eyes popping out of his skull. He turns to Ash. “I’m not fucking sharing her with anyone else.”

“Not that kind of job,” I say. “I’m not a whore. A proper job…like, one at the bar. Do you really expect me to sit around here all day playing prisoner?”

Ash squints his eyes, watching me carefully. “We’ll think about it.”

I bite down on my lip. I’ve been told to stay here against my own will, yet somehow it feels like I’m still choosing. Make it make sense.

“Oh, and another thing,” I add.

“She’s not gonna make this easy for us, boys,” Saint says.

“Let me speak to my Mamma. She needs to know that I’m…safe.”