Page 61 of Ride or Dies

“And if you have to, kill the fuckers too.”

None of us said anything as we ran for our bikes. We didn’t need to. We were all thinking the same things Jenna had said. We’d get Evie back, even if we had to kill someone—or multiple someones—to do that. And even if it wasn’t necessary, Clayton was going to be hurting before the night was over. If he so much as touched her, he’d probably end up in the hospital. Knowing that our sister wasn’t going to judge us for any of it just made it that much easier to take care of business.

And I had a feeling even Mom would be okay with violence for this. This was about protection of a person, a person who we all cared about very much.

Just how much was something I was only starting to understand.

“What’s wrong, Prez?” Judge called from where he stood near the bike garage.

“Something going down,” Mason answered for me. “Get the guys ready. We might be calling everyone in.”

“I know what to do,” Judge said, nodding at us. “We’ll be waiting.”

Knowing that the Riders would have our back for anything we needed, my brothers and I tore out, barely waiting for the gate to open before we were through and on the road. As we sped toward Evie’s house, I found myself doing something I hadn’t done since my dad died.

I prayed.

I didn’t know who was listening, or even if anyone was, but if there was even the slightest chance that some higher power, deity, or the fucking universe itself was listening, I was going to ask it for one thing.

Please don’t let anyone else I love die. If it has to be someone, let it be me. Not anyone else. Not her.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Evie

Ijolted out of the darkness just as Clayton took a turn hard enough to throw me into the door. I made a pained sound as my shoulder collided with it, but the real pain was in my head. It throbbed and ached, as if trying to make up for all the time I was unconscious and not feeling it.

I didn’t have time to think about it, because Clayton whipped the wheel back around, sending me flying in the other direction. This time, however, the seat belt stopped me from falling into him.

“Don’t try anything stupid,” he said without taking his eyes off the road. “I’m supposed to deliver you alive, but that doesn’t mean unharmed. If I even think you’re trying something, I’ll pull over and beat the shit outta you.” He shot me a leer. “Maybe I’ll even find out what’s so good between those legs that you have three brothers panting after you.”

I glared at him. “You try that and you’ll have to kill me. Just get me to your boss.”

“He’s not my boss,” Clayton snapped.

Damn. I must’ve hit a nerve there. I didn’t poke at it, though. Clayton didn’t like me, so I’d never be able to talk him out of what he was doing, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to fuck him for my freedom. I was missing a piece of the picture, and I decided it’d be better to wait and gather information. If his boss wanted me alive, I had some time to think.

My first thought was that Becca James had paid Clayton to get me to her, but I remembered that Clayton had said “he.” So maybe it was Randall. My ex didn’t actually want me anymore—if he ever had in the first place—but he didn’t like that I was the one to call things off. He could’ve decided that the only way to take back his control over me, the power he’d always loved more than me, would be to bring me to a place where the Bradshaws wouldn’t be with me.

Except when I looked out of the window to get my bearings, neither of those options felt right. We were still in Bedford, but we’d crossed to the not-so-good side of the train tracks. Literally. Even in the dark, I knew this was the area of the town where drugs and prostitution had left their mark. The numbers weren’t crazy high, but this wasn’t the sort of place a woman should be walking alone at night.

I knew that from experience, since I’d grown up in the run-down apartment building a few blocks from where we were right now.

Still, when we pulled up to an abandoned factory that hadn’t seen action since before I was born, I was confused. Not because an empty factory wasn’t a good place for kidnappers to meet, but because lights were on inside. It wasn’t until the headlights flashed across a drawing on the side of the building that I realized where we were.

“The Black Cobras?” I snapped my head around to stare at Clayton. “Why the hell are we at the Cobras’ clubhouse? You’re no biker.”

“Shut up,” he snapped as he parked the car. “And remember, don’t do anything stupid.”

As he got out of the car and walked around it, his gun in his hand again, I considered locking the door, but he hadn’t left the keys in here, so I couldn’t go anywhere. And he had a gun that would easily shoot out a window. I went with him, hoping that me not fighting would make everyone lower their guard and give me a chance to escape.

Clayton gripped my upper arm tight, practically dragging me to the door, but I focused on my surroundings, looking for exits I could use to get back outside, looking for guards, anything and anyone that could stop me. I saw two tall, lanky men in leather jackets and jeans, but they looked strung out enough that I could probably take them in a fight.

I could only imagine what the Riders could do to them.

The image of Sweeper going to the ground flashed into my mind, feeling every bit like a punch to the gut. He had to be okay, because I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if he died because he’d been protecting me. Not only that, but I’d never be able to look at Levi, Mason, or Tucker without knowing that I’d cost them their friend.

The first door Clayton took me through put us in a small office where a bored-looking biker sat behind a desk, his feet propped up on it, a skin magazine in his hands. While we stood there, he reached down and grabbed his crotch, squeezing it before he leaned over to spit, hopefully into a trash can.

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