Page 5 of Ryder

“What do you mean ‘so’? She’s fuckin’ pregnant. Every time she goes to work she puts herself and my kid in danger. I’ve told her I want her to quit, and she agreed, but she keeps pushing back the date. First it was gonna be last month, but then she told me that Carla needed to keep her on until she found her replacement. I spoke to Carla. Reece lied to me. Problem is I have no idea why.” Becoming more upset the longer he spoke, he released a barrage of curses before slamming the sole of his boot against the concrete wall.

“Maybe she’s pissed you’re makin’ her quit,” I blurted, not entirely believing what I was saying. I couldn’t even imagine how much my ears would be ringing if I ever tried to convince Braylen to quit her job. Granted, the salon where she worked was worlds different than Indulge, one of the club’s strip joints, but Braylen still had male clients. Customers who wanted in her pants. I was positive of it.

“Sheagreed with me. So why would she be pissed?”

“That’s like asking me why the sky’s blue, my brother. I’m as clueless as you are when it comes to understanding how chicks think.” Tearing my eyes away from Braylen—who continued to ignore me, even though I saw her look in my direction every now and again—I gave Tripp my full attention. “From what you’ve told me, your woman’s been through some shit. Maybe her job is some kind of security or somethin’. And now that she has to give it up, it’s messin’ with her.” I sought out Braylen again. “My guess, anyway.”

Before we could continue our conversation, Jagger stepped into the cage, cracking his neck from side to side and bouncing on his feet. He’d never been the showboater the other fighters were, but he seemed to steal the audience’s attention each and every time.

The next fifteen minutes passed with the both of us just watching everyone else, on guard in case any unwanted guests showed up. Ever since Koritz, the crooked DEA agent, showed up at our club—and with Rabid, the Savage Reapers’ VP, no less—an unsettling awareness shrouded everyone involved with the Knights Corruption.

The men were uneasy, just waitin’ for shit to pop off, and the women were affected by our moods, even though they had no clue what was really going on.

We thought we’d put the war to bed between our two clubs when we took out Psych, only to find out that his club was hell-bent on finding out where he was and what had happened to him.

Too bad they’ll never know . . . or find his rotting corpse.

As Jagger was declared the winner, he strode from the cage and barreled toward Kena, snagging her hand and pulling her toward the back of the room. Lifting his chin toward me before kissing his woman, he pointed toward the office on the second floor. It was code for “Watch my woman while I get my money.”

Tripp flanked me on my left side while the women stood on my right. Braylen had still made no move to talk to me, and after another five tense minutes, I deemed enough was enough.

Ryder

“Watch her,” I instructed Tripp, referring to Kena, and seized Braylen’s wrist, pulling her behind me toward the Exit sign. At first she didn’t fight because I’d caught her off guard, but as we entered the night air, she tried to pull her hand from mine.

“Let go,” she shouted, yanking her arm back a few times before I finally released her. “What is wrong with you? You can’t just manhandle me whenever you want to.”

Ignoring her question, I fired off one of my own. “Why didn’t you respond to any of my texts or take any of my damn calls? You can’t still be that pissed at me for the other night.” As soon as I asked the question, I knew my fuckup. What I referred to was when I balked at her before disappearing into the bathroom, not the memory of pinning her to the bed beneath me.

“Are you kidding me?” she yelled, taking a step backward. I reached for her but she shook her head. “I wake up to you lying on top of me, bruising my arms because you were holding me down while you were dreaming. You had no idea I was even there until I shouted your name.”

“And kicked me,” I reminded her. A half smirk found its way onto my lips.

Not the right time.

“It’s not funny, Ryder. You could’ve choked me to death.”

“My hands weren’t near your neck,” I rebuked.

“But they could’ve been. What happens next time when you decide to wrap your hands around my throat?”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“You had no idea what you were doing the other night, so how can you be so sure?”

“Because I would never hurt you.” Scratching at the hairs covering my jawline, I did my best to convince her I believed the ridiculous words spewing from my mouth.

“Not intentionally,” she whispered, the breeze stealing her words and swirling them around me like a tornado. Braylen put another foot of space between us.

“Stop moving away from me like you’re scared of me, Bray. I don’t like that shit.” My head ached, all muscles in my body suddenly becoming too sensitive to the anxiety coursing through me. I hated the look of doubt shadowing her eyes, as if she wanted to come to me yet refused to move because she wasn’t sure she should.

Hell, I didn’t know if she should either.

I’d battled with the fear that I could’ve hurt her that night. I could’ve snuffed out her life, all the while having no fuckin’ clue I’d even done it. Not until I woke up. Then what would I have done? How would I ever explain something like that to the club? To her family?

Dangerous.

The only word to describe what I was when it came to Braylen sleeping next to me, innocent and unknowing.

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