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“Fuck,” Emmett, Gray, and Axel all grunt in unison as they look at the gun in Ryker’s hands, but I have no idea what the issue is, until he turns the slip of paper over to reveal a familiar symbol.
“Courtesy of the Devil’s Brutes,” he grunts, his eyes darkening as he scrunches the note up in frustration.
When they came barreling into the compound yesterday, I didn’t ask a single question, instead focusing on making sure Emmett was okay. It wasn’t until later that night when I slipped into the kitchen that I heard the rumors of what had happened. What the Brutes had done.
So if I put two and two together, I know the gun in Ryker’s hand is one that should have been there yesterday, but the Brutes had taken it. Kincaid and his men love nothing more than showboating and theatrics, they love the game of it all, but what twists my gut is knowing this is only just the beginning.
The rage dripping from each of the men increases with every passing second, but none more so than Ryker. The muscles in his neck are bunched together, the veins in his arms protruding as he strains them, his jaw grinding so tight he could cut glass.
Angry men really shouldn’t be so fucking hot. They should be a warning, a giant red flag for me to run and hide. Yet they lure me closer and make my thighs clench, simply from being in their presence.
“Fuck.” Ryker's outburst is louder this time, his fist slamming down on the metal toolbox.
“Ryker, brother, you need to clear your head, lose the rage and frustration, so we can figure out the next step together. As a club.”
My eyebrows raise at the softer tone of Axel’s voice as he soothes his friend, but he doesn’t consider taking another step toward him.
“I haven’t got time to forget all of this and clear my mind, Ax. These fucking guys show up like this, making demands from the second they step foot onto my property.” Ryker rakes his fingers through his hair, gripping the ends tightly before suddenly grabbing the box and swiping it off the toolbox.
Guns clatter to the ground with his anger, while some hurtle toward the motorcycle behind him. My feet are carrying me before I even process I’m moving, protecting the motorcycle from any potential damage.
“What the fuck, Ryker? Throw shit in anger, get mad at the shitstorm the Devil’s Brutes are brewing, but don’t pull that shit near a motorcycle that did nothing at all.” My nostrils flare as my chest heaves, my anger from earlier transforming into annoyance at his ignorance of the beautiful bike now standing between us.
Fuck, I miss my baby, and here he is, wreaking havoc on one so carelessly.
“You don’t know shit about my bike,” Axel says with a scoff, folding his arms over his chest as he moves to stand beside Ryker.
I try so fucking hard to not bite back against the stereotype I know he’s thinking. “I would be a fool not to know anything about a Harley Davidson Sportster S, woman or not.”
Axel rolls his eyes at me as he tosses the butt of his cigarette outside of the garage. “Please, you don’t know sh—”
“Production of the first Harley Davidson Sportster started in 1957. This looks like the latest S model which started being manufactured this year. It’s got the revolutionary max 1250 T liquid-cooled powertrain engine with double overhead camshafts and variable valve timing. Along with the new high exhaust mount and digitalized instrumentation. It’s a beauty. It’s just a shame that you opted for the bright billiard blue as opposed to the gray haze because that coloring is so fucking fire, I’d likely come on the spot just looking at it. You pulled me away from the Reapers in such a haste that my baby is still there. I would give anything to clean it up good and just be in its damn presence.”
Silence greets me as I look up from the bike to the Ruthless Brothers looking back at me. The tingle over my cheeks intensifies as it creeps all over my face, undoubtedly making me red as hell as all four of them gape at me in surprise. Axel included.
I almost want to be smug, but if I even so much as smirk too hard at him right now, he won’t take me seriously, and when it comes to bikes, that’s all I am.
Gray clears his throat, breaking the deathly silence clinging to us as he nods in my direction. “I think you have your distraction, Ryker.”
Gray’s grin widens, and Emmett rearranges his dick through his shorts. While Axel stares at me long and hard.
“What?” I finally ask, when none of them turn away from me, but it’s only when my eyes settle on Ryker that he answers.
“You.”
TWENTY-TWO
Ryker
My teeth grind together,my hands flexing at my sides. I can’t take my eyes off her, transfixed with the hollow of her neck and the quick flutters of her pulse. When I can finally draw my gaze to hers, she holds me captive, her piercing blue eyes shining as she stares deep into my soul.
My heart thumps in my chest, my cock pulsing in my pants as she stands taller, not frightened by my approach. I don’t stop until we’re toe to toe, and only then do I release the breath lodged in my throat.
“Everyone out. Unless you want to watch.”
Scarlett’s eyes widen as she gapes up at me, her pebbled nipples brushing against my cut as she practically pants. She was more than responsive the night she initiated herself as a Ruthless Bitch, but it’s something else entirely when it’s aimed at you.
“Do I get a say?” She drags her tongue over her bottom lip as the corner of my mouth lifts with a smirk.
