Page 42 of Defy


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Not having the energy to have this argument again with him, I fall back in the chair and sip my coffee.

“How was the party last night?” I ask. “You’re in an irritatingly good mood, so I’m assuming you got laid.”

A wicked smile pulls at his lips as he abandons the controller on the coffee table and grabs his own mug.

He props his foot up, and his smile gets wider as he thinks back. “Ah, man. You should have been there. It was fucking epic.”

“Yeah, in another life maybe,” I mutter.

Since the day I ruined my friendship with D, I haven’t stepped foot inside the Red Ridge MC compound.

Back when we were kids, it was like my second home.

Then all of a sudden, it was just another thing that had been ripped away from me.

Just something else to add to the list.

My parents.

My life.

My best friend.

My future as I knew it.

I shake my head, forcing the depressing thoughts from my head and focus on Ryder instead.

“Go on then, I know how desperate you are to tell me about how good she sucked you or how she let you fuck her ass or something.”

A coy smile plays on his lips, telling me that there is plenty that he wants to share. But then he shocks the shit out of me by saying, “Nah, not this time, man. Gonna keep her all to myself.”

Any kind of response I might have to that is soon cut off when the sound of another motorbike draws closer.

“Expecting a visitor?” Ryder asks, looking over the couch to see who it is. “Oh shit. What have you done?”

“What?” I ask, pushing to my feet to see who it is.

“Fuck off, I haven’t done anything,” I mutter, slapping him upside the head as I move toward the front door to let Diesel in. “It’s more likely Kat has done something.”

My stomach drops as I say the words, panicking that she’s gone off again and got wasted alone wrapping around me like icy claws.

I stand in the doorway as the cool winter air whips around my bare chest as he climbs off his bike and hangs his helmet on the handlebars.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of a home visit?” I ask, forcing some humor into my voice.

Surely fuck this isn’t just a social visit.

He hasn’t turned up to just hang out with me since we were fifteen.

His eyes lift, meeting mine. Just like the night I turned up at his cabin, he looks exhausted with dark circles around his eyes.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” he grunts. “You got a coffee machine?” he asks, giving me little choice but to move aside to allow him in.

“Yeah, I’m not a fucking monster.”

He scoffs as if he’s not entirely sure that’s true or not before joining Ryder in the living room.

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