Page 15 of Bound by Vengeance
I tried to do it from my apartment to avoid this, but the system won’t allow me to get in remotely. Therefore, I needed to come to the central hub.
Buzz has the computers set to lock down if the wrong things are typed in, so I must be meticulous with my entries.
The floor above me creaks and groans with people dancing. A faint sound of music comes through, as well, and I find myself humming to the current song. I’ve always worked better with music. This is good because I don’t have a lot of time, and I have to get it right.
Cracking computers has become second nature to me. It’s like riding a bicycle. Even with months away, I can pick it right back up. Companies keep coming up with “special” ways to stop people from getting into each other’s systems, but each of those is easier than the last. It’s a joke.
It only takes me a few minutes before I’m in. I type in the search JK Bridges , my stomach coiling as the information is brought up. Files, spreadsheets, and documents line the finder. Not having time to go through it all right then, I insert the flash drive and download it all. It only takes minutes, then I put everything back exactly where I got it, leave the room, and lock it, joining everyone back upstairs.
When I first get to the top of the stairs, I look around, noting not one person even cared I was downstairs. Why would they?
Sneaky, yes. But necessary for us all.
Sucking in a calming breath, I find Emery, Nox, Cooper, Bristyl, Deke, and Rylie sitting at a picnic table outside. I join them, feeling the flash in my pocket and wanting to get back to the apartment so I can look at it.
“Family givin’ ya a hard time?” Nox asks with a grin. He and I have a good relationship. We don’t have the connection that some twins have where we can read each other’s feelings or any of that, but we’re close.
“Nothing I didn’t expect.” Actually, I expected a lot worse; more of an interrogation of some sort. Luckily, that didn’t happen.
“Hear you’re back at work,” Bristyl says, sitting next to Cooper. He has his arm around her waist, holding her securely to his body.
“Yep. You gonna come in and let me have at your hair?”
Her laugh is like velvet, soft yet a touch of rough. “Sure thing. I want pink or something fun.”
“I can totally do that.” I look at Nox, whose hair has grown very shaggy over the last few months.
He shakes his hair back with a grin. “Nah. I’ve gotta catch up to Coop here.”
Cooper, the oldest of us all, has long hair he puts up in a man bun or ties at the nape of his neck. I’ve heard every woman who’s ever encountered him swoon over the damn thing, gushing about how hot it is on him. He won’t let me touch it, so it’s become a running joke.
“You would rock the short, spiked hair look,” I tease.
“You cut my hair, Austyn, and I’ll kick your ass,” he warns, and I know he’s not joking. The man likes his hair, and Bristyl does, too, so it’s a win-win. Truth, I wouldn’t want to cut it, either. His hair is every woman’s fantasy, except mine. No, it’s nowhere close to mine.
A motorcycle roars in the distance, catching my attention, and I watch as Ryker speeds into the lot, a buxom blonde on the back, wrapped around him tightly. My stomach drops to the floor.
It’s absolutely nothing new. I can’t remember a time when Ryker didn’t have a woman on his arm. He’s ten years older than me, and my dumbass has had a thing for him for as long as I can remember. Watching him, craving him, lusting after him.
All of it was stupid. Is stupid.
Now that I’ve given up, it shouldn’t sting so badly, yet it does.
My father told me that, while I was recovering, Ryker sat outside on the front porch, refusing to leave. I briefly thought maybe he had a thing for me, too, but seeing him now, with the woman wrapped around him like a glove … No. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Ryker isn’t going to happen. The sooner that gets through to my heart, the better off everyone will be.
The blonde climbs off, kisses Ryker’s cheek, and then bounces off with a wide, satisfied smile. It’s not the first I’ve seen and won’t be the last.
It’s like a train wreck. You know it’s coming and you just have to watch anyway, cringing the entire time.
His focus zeroes in on me, and I know this because he tears his glasses away from his eyes and strides with purpose to where we’re sitting.
His large frame blocks the sun as I look up, up, up at him. Damn, why does he have to be so attractive? There should be a law: no more hot guys allowed in the Ravage MC. Of course, he’s already here so that does me zero bit of good.
Tattoos line his arms and neck intricately, like each one was placed in a specific spot for a specific reason. Each is detailed in ways that make them unique and stand out. I’ve had dreams of exploring each of them and finding out the stories behind them. Fantasies of him showing me exactly where the ones are that mean the most to him. Tracing them with my fingers and tongue. Moving over him while I take the canvas that is his body in. Again, those are all fantasies I had at one time.
Not anymore.
I no longer get that. Even if he wanted to and as much as it sucks, it’s life.
