Broken (Motorcycle Club Romance): Ryder and Sawyer 1 (Fallen Idols Motorcycle Club Book 3) (4 page)

EIGHT

SAWYER

I set the table, and stood back, admiring my hard work. 

“Mom, Cruz, dinner is ready,” I called, but neither answered.

I walked down the hallway, and stopped at Mom’s room. The door was shut, so I eased it open without knocking. Mom was curled up in her bed in a deep sleep. I didn’t want to wake her, so I closed the door. I’d set a plate aside for when she woke.

Cruz’s door was also shut, but I knocked, so he wouldn’t blow up on me like last time.

“What?” he called.

I hated talking through wood, but I was trying to get back on his good side. Try to remind him that we once got along. “Dinner’s ready.”

Cruz emerged, wearing his cut. He might not have physically looked like Dad, but draped in the club’s leather, that’s all I saw.

“I’m going out.” He brushed by me, not even bothering to make eye contact with me.

“What do you mean you’re going out? I’ve been cooking all afternoon, and you’re just going to take off?”

He shrugged with more arrogance than necessary. “I have a date. You should’ve asked.”

I narrowed my eyes, throwing his superiority back in his face. “I guess I assumed, if you had other plans, you would have told me when I started cooking.”

He didn’t step down, didn’t even waver. “I’m telling you now.”

The doorbell rang, and Cruz pushed passed me once more. Not ready to end this conversation, I followed behind him. He answered the door.

“Hey babe,” he said, and I watched as he leaned into a kiss. My little brother really was dating.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” I asked, walking closer to get a better look at the girl. Her pale blue eyes seemed familiar.

She tucked a brown strand behind her ear, and smiled. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Once I heard the voice, it all came rushing back to me. She was a foot taller now, with new curves, and her cute baby face had transformed into a beautiful young woman. “Evie?”

“Oh my God!” I pulled her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you, sweetie.”

“You too.”

“You are not that ten year old little girl I used to babysit, that’s for sure.”

Evie turned to my brother, nudging his shoulder. “Cruz, why didn’t you tell me your sister was back?”

“Slipped my mind,” he shrugged.

“Something smells amazing.” Evie glanced toward the kitchen.

“I made sofrito bandido, our mom’s favorite. There’s plenty of food. Why don’t you two stay for dinner?”

Cruz’s lip twitched, ready to make up some lame excuse, when Evie beat him to the response. “We’d love to.”

Cruz stood just behind her, his shoulders slumped like a petulant child. He rolled his eyes as a scowl settled on his face. Evie turned back to him, but he quickly put on a fake smile. “You’re okay with that, right?” she asked him.

“Of course.” He rested his hand on her lower back, and guided her to the kitchen. As he walked passed me, he cast an angry glare, but I ignored it, and followed them in.

“So, how long have you two been together?” I asked, since this was the first I was hearing about it.

“A few months now,” Evie answered, as I took her plate and filled it up.

“Who asked who out?” I continued.

“He asked me. We were friends for a long time, but,” she turned to him, locking eyes, and smiling so sweetly. “I had the biggest crush on him, so, of course, I immediately said yes. He’s my best friend.”

The words were all too familiar. I felt like I was watching a rerun of the Sawyer and Ryder Show. We were so young and so blissfully happy. Completely unaware of our reality. Nothing lasts forever. Especially when you’re wearing that cut. It’s not a code of honor; it’s a death sentence. 

“And, what do you think about Cruz being a prospect?”

Cruz dropped his fork, and flashed the nastiest of looks at me. Evie, who was so forthright with information, quieted up, and sunk a little into herself. I must have hit a nerve.

“Why don’t we start asking you questions?” Cruz sneered. “You were in New York, we know that much. Why New York? Why leave at all? What happened that had you running scared? Or, should I be asking, what’d you do?”

Evie rested her hand on Cruz’s, pulling it off the table, and cradling it in her lap.

I didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to know any of it. It didn’t affect him. It was my burden, no one else’s.

I met Cruz’s eyes, and past the tough guy façade, I could see the little boy I used to give piggyback rides to. The boy who looked up to me, and always wanted to be around me even if I was just watching TV.

Until this moment, I didn’t realize how much I had hurt Cruz by leaving.

“I didn’t think so.” Cruz pushed away from the table, nearly knocking over the chair, and took off down the hall. I wasn’t sure if I should go after him, but seconds later, his door slammed shut, and I had my answer. He needed time to cool down.

“I’m sorry, Sawyer. He had a hard time with you leaving. Your dad was sent to jail, and then shortly after, you took off. He lost the two people he loved most in the world within a month of each other. Now, just when he thought he was finally getting his act together, you come strolling back into his life like nothing ever happened. He’s confused and still hurt. He just doesn’t know how to deal with it all.”

I nodded. “Were you two friends then?”

“We were. We’ve been friends since we were eleven.”

For the years I was gone, Cruz had Evie, and while it brought me comfort knowing he wasn’t completely alone, it still didn’t change a simple fact: I had been gone, and I missed a huge chunk of my brother’s life. Phone calls and emails that I once thought were enough, weren’t even close to being enough. I couldn’t believe it took me coming home to realize that. “Can you tell me about him?”

“Sure. What do you want to know?”

“Everything.” 

NINE

SAWYER

I was getting cabin fever, so I headed out for a drive in the California sun. I opened the sunroof, rolled the windows down, and cruised down the 101, letting the fresh air clear my mind. Tomorrow, Mom would be having surgery, and hopefully kicking cancer’s ass. She had to. I’d already lost too much in this life. I couldn’t imagine losing her too, not yet at least.

My eyes scanned the road in front of me, and landed on a sign for the San Quentin prison exit. I might have gone five years without seeing anyone, but at least I kept in touch. My father, on the other hand, well, I hadn’t spoken to him since they raided our house, and took him out in handcuffs.

Mom and Cruz went to see him the first day he was allowed visitation. I refused to go. Instead, I went to Ryder’s, curled up in his arms, and cried for hours. He held me the entire day, and didn’t even talk because he knew no matter what he said it wouldn’t take away the pain. Nothing could. It would be with me forever.

I thought that, over time, the pain would lessen, but it hasn’t. I’ve just been able to push it far in the back of my mind. Seeing Dad would only bring it front and center, and I refused to let that happen. So, I pretended like he was dead, and not a couple miles down the road. A good song came on, so I turned up the volume, and sang along. Suddenly, the lights on the dashboard dimmed, the radio cut out, and then the car died. Completely. “You have got to be kidding me,” I said, resting my head on the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn, and scaring the crap out of myself. So much for my peaceful drive.

I checked my cell, and, of course, I had no service in the dead zone between the prison and the bridge. Perfect. What the hell was I going to do? The sound of motorcycles echoed across the water in the early morning air, and I hoped it was someone I knew.

The bikes came into view, and I watched them in my mirror, as they got closer. The skull on the helmet had me diving down on the seat, and pretending to be rummaging through my glove box.

The last thing I needed was to be stuck on the side of the road with a couple of Las Almas. I begged and pleaded that they would pass without as much as a glance in my direction.

What were they even doing on this road anyway? This was Idol territory. Had things changed that much since I’d been gone?

The rev of the motorcycles faded into the distance, and I sat up, thanking my lucky stars. I checked my phone again, but still no service. Maybe I could walk. I grabbed my purse, and was about to get out of the car, when I heard another motorcycle.

Suspecting it was a Las Almas who lost his group, I ducked down, and waited for it to pass. However, this time it didn’t. The hum of the engine came up right behind me, and my heart battered frantically in my chest.

My eyes scanned the floor, looking for a weapon; anything I could use to get a good hit with, and gives me enough time to run. I reached down to under my seat, and wrapped my fingers around a Maglite. The thumping of boots came closer, and my fight or flight instinct kicked in.

I gripped the handle, and as the thumping came to my side, I flung the door open with all my weight, smashing it into him—hard. The guy stumbled back with a groan, grabbing his stomach. I leapt out of the car, ready to run, still holding onto the Maglite like a lifeline, but my bag was caught on something in the car. I was stuck.

I tried to shrug out of it, but it was a tangled mess.
Shit, shit, shit!
.I yanked and tugged, my heart practically beating a hole through my chest.

Tears of panic spilled down my face as I continued my relentless attempt at freeing myself. A strong hand came down on my shoulder, but it was gentler than I expected. A shiver of terror ran up my spine. “Get off me!” I screamed.

“It’s just me,” Ryder answered, and I spun to face him.

He gently grabbed my cheeks, and looked into my eyes, soothing my heavy breathing and racing heart. “It’s just me.” His thumbs stroked across the apple of my cheeks, wiping away the frightened tears. I relished in his warm touch, now knowing I was safe.

I lifted my hand to his. “Oh God, Ryder. I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“I’m bulletproof, remember?” he joked, just like he used to.

A smile tugged at my lips. “Bulletproof, maybe. But not door proof.”

He laughed, and damn if it wasn’t the sweetest sound I’d heard in a long time. “I’ll survive.”

“What has you so freaked?” His eyes narrowed, the beautiful grey turning almost black. “Is someone trying to hurt you?”

“No. I just was going for a drive, and my car died. A few motorcycles passed before yours, and it was a group of Las Almas. I was afraid you were one of them.”

“That’d be a cold day in hell,” he growled.

“What are they doing up here anyway? I thought this was Idols territory.”

‘It is, but it’s also a route to the prison, so we don’t bother them. As long as they keep their drugs in their own town, they’re free to ride.”

I thought about telling him about the Las Almas crew parked outside my house the other morning, but I was scared I’d stir up trouble for Cruz. That was a matter I’d deal with myself.

“So, what’s the problem?” he asked, nodding toward the car.

I sighed. “I don’t know. It just died.”

“Your mom’s been having this problem for a while. If it’s the same issue, luckily, it’s an easy fix. Pop the hood.”

I went back to the car, pulled the release, and then walked around to join Ryder. He bent over the engine, his white t-shirt straining against his bulging biceps. A familiar tingle spread across my stomach, shooting straight to my core. 

“So, what’s the problem?” I asked, ripping my eyes away from his hard, muscular body.

“Loose ground.”

“What does that mean?”

He pointed under the hood, and I leaned in to see. “Battery’s not getting the right amount of juice. Just have to tighten this.” He reached into the car, turning a bolt, until it wouldn’t go anymore. “There, that should do it. Now go try to start it.”

I headed over to the driver side, and turned the key. It started right up. Ryder shut the hood, and I pulled back, jumping a little in excitement. “You fixed it!” I exclaimed, and threw my arms around his neck, dragging him close.

The familiar scent of leather and tobacco that I always associated with Ryder engulfed me. Heat radiated off of his firm chest, and I knew I should back away, but I couldn’t. It felt too good. I missed that feeling. Craved it more than I should.

His hands gripped my hips, but then he pushed me away. I instantly felt the loss, and glanced up, wondering why he wasn’t pulling me closer. Our faces were still so close, and his lips teased my own, knowing one kiss could drive me to the brink, and throw me over the edge.

“You should be good now,” he insisted, holding us apart, but not losing his grips on my hips. His nose grazed mine, our lips a whisper away.

“Thanks,” I said, tilting my head until or mouths were perfectly aligned. “I should go.”

“You should,” he nodded, his fingers digging into my sides, and drawing me closer ever so slowly. We stood there, just staring into each other’s eyes for a long moment, as desire streamed in, seeping out of my pours. Then, with one yank, he hauled my hips to his, and crushed his mouth to mine.

The hot California sun beat down on us, heating my already flushed skin. Ryder laced his fingers in my hair, angling my head for better access, before plunging his tongue in my wanting mouth. His fingers dug into my hips before he lifted me up, placing me on top of the hood. I hooked my leg around him, pushing my boot into his back, urging him closer.

He didn’t hesitate, ramming his rock solid erection against my sex. My hands scrambled to feel him, to touch as much of him as I could. I ran my fingers along his back, up and down his sides before I dragged them over his chest, rediscovering every hard ridge.

His mouth peeled away from mine as he kissed a fiery hot line down my neck, causing my legs to squeeze him even tighter. I arched into him, letting my head fall back, as his lips traveled along my heated skin.

Pleasure mixed with the insatiable desire for more. I balled my hands in his soft strands, and jerked his head back to me. His lips crashed down on mine, hard and reckless, taking all that I had to give, and begging for more.

The beeping of a car brought me back to reality, shattering the private world we were consumed in.

“Get a room,” a girl yelled, while a guy in the back seat whistled, and threw his arms in the air.

Ryder rested his head against my chest and laughed, but it wasn’t funny. Every time I was around him, I lost control. I slid out from under him, and smoothed down the now wrinkled material of my shirt.

“Well, that was fun,” he said.

My head cleared from the fog of desire, and I could finally think straight. “That was a mistake.”

“You keep saying that, baby, but you and I both know better.” He stepped toward me, and took my chin in his hand, urging me to look at him. “Your body’s saying something much different.” He removed his hand from my face and placed it on my heart, which was beating wildly out of control. “It’s all right here, baby,” he smirked, tapping a beat that matched my own. “So, you keep telling yourself otherwise, but I feel it, and so do you.”

I shook from his grasp. “No. It was a mistake. And it won’t happen again. I have to go.”

“Where you off to?” he questioned, leaning against the car. He crossed his arms. I tried not to stare at his muscles, and focused on the patches of his cut instead. 

“I…I just have to go.”

“I’m actually heading to the prison to see your old man. You want to join me?”

My eyes widened, and my world shifted at the thought. “No.”

“Have you seen him since…”

“I really have to go.” I opened the door, but Ryder pushed it shut.

“You can’t keep hiding from him. Pretending he’s dead. He might be stuck in a cell, but he is very much alive.”

I hated the club for not protecting my father. But I hated my father more for being stupid enough to get caught in the first place. The man I knew? The man I loved? He was always two steps ahead of the enemy, and three ahead of the Feds. Yet, somehow, he lost his footing, and made a mistake that cost him everything. I’d never forgive him for that.

I glared at Ryder, the anger in my eyes forcing him back. “Not to me, he’s not. He died five years ago. Now get out of my way.”

Ryder tossed his hands in the air and backed up. “Fine. Have it your way. Be the stubborn bitch you’ve always been.”

“Fuck you.”

He leaned toward me, grazing my ear with his lips. “You wish,” he whispered, and then stormed away.

He started his bike and took off, leaving me alone on the side of the road.