Page 92 of Rider Daddies
Even though the cops weren’t here last night to investigate murder, I’m on the edge of my seat waiting for more chaos to erupt. Last night, I had darkness and the disheveled, half-naked look on my side, but next time I might not be so lucky.
Also, fuck being caught. The longer I stay here, the harder it is to leave. Mamma keeps texting me and I don’t know what to say to her. At some point, I’m gonna have to come clean about the murder.
About the blood on my hands.
But I’ll still be lying to her.
Hell, I’m even lying to my conscious self.
Murdering Manual gives me an easy excuse to stay here…but it’s not the only reason I’m so drawn to this place. Every time I’m intimate with the brothers, the invisible force field around this place gets stronger.
It’s hard to leave.
They mixed something into that tattoo ink. It’s the only explanation.
Ever since they signed their names on my ass cheek, I feel bound to them. I feel it in my chest. They don’t even have to say anything.
The energy between us speaks for itself. It’s electric every time I’m next to them.
There’s an unspoken connection that I’ll have to ask the laws of physics to describe…I can’t define it in English,orin Italian.
I slot the rifle back into its place on the wall, dusting off my hands.
True lawyers don’t hold weapons and silently dream of murder.
What if this clubhouse was never meant to be the waiting room? What if it was always supposed to be my home?
I walk back into the main room and head toward the bar. It’s time I come clean. I can’t keep information like this from my mamma.
I’m about to grab my phone from the bench when something else grabs my attention from the window.
More cops?
I narrow my eyes and head toward the window, just as the shadow of a person passes across my frame of vision.
I lift up the window and stick my head out, prepared to be met with cop number two from last night who wants to analyze my face again.
Instead, I see thin air.
I want to breathe a sigh of relief, but can’t. Tension is lodged in my throat. I’ve been here long enough now to know that bikers park up out front and enter through the main door.
Time to investigate.
I lace up the first pair of biker boots I can find. They slope off my feet, dragging against the hardwood floor as I make my way across the veranda. But it doesn’t matter how big they are on my feet. These babies will do damage with one kick in the face.
I creep around the perimeter of the clubhouse, back pressed to the wall like I’m suddenly the main character in a spy movie.
Turning the corner to where I first saw the shadow, I prepare to start the interrogation.
But thin air smiles back at me.
First the cops, now a shadow?
Tristan nowhere to be seen?
Something about this has my crazy ex’s name written all over it.
“I missed you today.” Ryder smacks my ass to show me how much.
