Hard Rider (Bad Boy Bikers Book 1) (31 page)

“Are you all right?” she asked, looking with wide eyes at his shoulder.

“'Course. Just need to stitch it up. I'll be fine.” He gingerly looked over the knot forming on her forehead. “You okay?”

“Banged up, but yeah.”

They kissed hard, both of them full of adrenaline still, their lips tasting more full, their bodies feeling more right than they ever had before.

“I'm fine,” croaked Beretta, stumbling out of his truck. “Don't worry about me.”

He came near to falling down. Ram rushed to him, keeping him on his feet. “Christ, bud. You really got it, didn't you?”

Beretta nodded. There was blood all over his midsection, some of it dried around his lips.

“We'll get you to a hospital, okay?” said Ram. “You'll be fine. Just stay with us, all right? You did good up there.”

“You too,” said Beretta. “I guess we're even.”

There was no hostility anymore, no false pretenses of alliance. They had been through the fire together and come out forged anew. It wouldn't be the same as it was before—they would never have the relationship they did. But they could have something new, and something—if not better—then still just as good.

“Even?” said Ram. “Nah.”

June stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. He could see how she was about to tell him off for snapping Beretta's olive branch.

“I figure we'll be even when you get a new bike. What do you think?”

He could see Beretta try to laugh at this, but holding it in because of the pain in his belly. Beretta pushed him off, macho, trying to hold himself up on his truck. He insisted he would be fine.

Ram didn't believe him, not all the way, but those sirens were getting closer. There was no way away from them. The only route away was back up toward the cabin, and that wasn't an exit—not when they all needed medical attention.

Their time was running out—and especially his time with June. He grabbed her and, not saying a word, kissed her as hard as he could.

He ground her body into his, loving the feel of her, the sweet scent, the thickness of her hair and the tightness of her curves. He kissed with everything he had, enveloping her lips, his tongue pressing across hers, teeth scraping just lightly as he lifted her up off the ground with just one arm.

“I love you, June,” he said.

“I love you, Ram.”

The sirens came closer and closer. There was an ambulance among them, but it was mostly cops. When they finally arrived, June and Ram were still kissing, and Colt was still on the road, head in his hands.

The cops filed out with their guns drawn, as usual, even though Beretta and Ram had thrown their guns down onto the road so they could be seen clearly.

Colt staggered upward, waving his hands.

“Arrest those two sons-of-bitches!” said Colt. “Arrest them for assaulting an officer! For kidnapping my daughter! For murder, plain and simple!”

The cops began to sweep into action. Beretta and Ram held their hands up, on their knees, not protesting or fighting.

They had known this was coming. Very quickly the police began to take statements,  set out tape, and bag evidence. Ram and June told their side of the story to a cop who then reported back to Kyle Colt, who was acting like he was in charge.

Colt grinned at the proceedings as they handcuffed both men and as Beretta was rolled into the back of the ambulance. Ram watched June's brother approach their father, trying to talk in low tones. 

“Sheriff Colt, we've got this under control. You should go see the paramedics.”

“Paramedics? Hell! I've faced worse than this. You know that. Why—”

“Dad,” Kyle was more forceful now. “Maybe you ought to step aside and go to the paramedics. Let us make the arrest.”

“The hell should I do that for?”

“Because you just smashed up your squad car in the middle of nowhere when you reported in that you were taking the day off. We got two men shot and a banged up woman, none of whom are telling the same story as you. And then there's the dead body up in a cabin at the end of this road. How about that?”

Colt made as if to shout again, and then quieted down. “I'll...yes. Paramedics. I think I may have gotten a concussion from all the...all the ruckus.”

Kyle watched him walk away back to the ambulance where the paramedics there had already stabilized Beretta.

Now that the fracas with his father was done, Kyle approached Ram, with June still right next to him. A couple of officers were having a debate about redoing Ram's handcuffs so they were behind his back instead of in front.

“You have to arrest him?” June asked Kyle.

“Can't really get around it, no,” said Kyle. “I'll make sure they treat him right. Okay?”

“I'm trusting you, Kyle.”

“I know. I'll make sure it's all right,” he said again.

Very slowly, the scene began to disintegrate. Ram was stuffed inside the back of a car and driven back to Marlowe and to jail.

They stitched up his shoulder and told him he would be fine. But he knew he wouldn't be.

Not until he was with June again.

––––––––

J
une waited outside the gas station on Ram's bike, sliding her hands appreciatively over the leather of the seat. It was nearing evening and the sun came down slow, leaving a jagged trail like a serrated knife on the dusty sky. The nights were cooler now, and she wore a tight leather jacket to compensate.

Six months had passed, and Ram's sentence was served and done. She had picked him up from prison earlier that day, waiting for him with his bike ready. Howitzer had been giving her lessons in riding, and she thought she was coming along nicely.

Luck had finally struck hard for June and for Ram. In the weeks following the shootout at the cabin, there wasn't another compelling story in the media. The release of the tapes turned the bloody affair, which was headline regional news, into a national story and a call for multiple exposes on the Marlowe Sheriff's Department. It was investigated by the federal government, with multiple instances of corruption found.

Sheriff Colt resigned from office and faced prosecution from the federal authorities for abuse of his power—as did about half of his staff, not including Kyle Colt. In fact, one of the only people found squeaky clean by the investigation was Kyle, now running for Sheriff in the election next week.

Her father and several of his underlings, though, faced multiple criminal charges.

Calling in multiple favors, John Colt had finagled his way into pushing his sentencing back past the elections—which also would decide the new district attorney. He'd hoped a colleague of his would be elected and possibly even call the whole trial off. But this was a mistake and a misreading of the mood of the mob—the favorite by a staggering eighty points was a former public defender and civil rights lawyer running on a hard anti-corruption platform.

The only favor that Colt had called in that had actually worked for him was that the killing of Mikhail by Theo was ruled as self-defense. Theo was kicked out of the force too, though, and barred from ever becoming a cop again in the state of Texas. Given that police departments were the sort to ask around about anyone trying to get hired on, he probably wouldn't get a job anywhere in the United States as police again.

Theo didn't seem to care. He took the whole affair pretty hard, and last week, at June's urging, had checked himself into a psychiatric ward. It was a place he could get better, and while it might not have been what Ram wanted, it was what June wanted—her family trying to heal itself, one person at a time.

Even so, Sheila wasn’t talking to June. Kyle sent his sister updates about the family every few days or so. This made June sad, but life was long, and she hoped eventually her mother would come around. This time, she would keep the door open on her part, and make sure not to close herself off. She would make sure to keep trying.

Beretta and Ram's sentence—which once might have put them away for years and years, if not life—was a measly six months for the assault of a police officer. The two outlaw bikers had turned into something like folk heroes among the populace of the Southwest, already rather incensed against perceived overstepping into their freedoms and rights and quick to rally around someone fighting back against the government enforcing laws that didn't actually exist.

As such, the skeleton crew remaining of the justice department wanted his sentencing to be brief and quiet—enough to punish him, but not enough to raise a ruckus from an already outraged public demanding his immediate release.

Any charges against the Wrecking Crew were, of course, brought up and then immediately forgotten. And from the tapes found in Colt's office, the murderer of Officer Bobby Ranklin at
The Hammerin' Nail
was identified, but he was still at large. The Flags were struggling without a leader, fracturing off into different splinter groups, but that didn't make them any easier to catch so far.

Ram walked out from the station now, colors on his back, as proud as ever. His face was still bruised, the cuts just starting to heal. The guards remaining in the prison hadn't been kind to Ram, but he told June he liked it. All the fights kept him in shape.

Ram approached her on the bike and lifted her up easily, always so strong. She kissed him madly, pulling her hands across his thick shoulders muscles, holding him tight. Everything inside of her felt like lava. They were on their way to a hotel in a different city, but they couldn't get there quick enough.

“What was that about?” he asked when they parted.

“I’m just crazy about you,” she said. “You complaining?”

“Not at all.” He got that shine in his eye that let her know they were only minutes away from a pronounced, intense lovemaking session. “I think we need to find a different hotel pretty soon, huh?”

They rode off into the sunset. What came tomorrow would come, but they would face it together.

# # #

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ydia Pax

Did you love
Hard Rider
? Then you should read
Desire of the Gladiator
by Lydia Pax!

She is above his class. But she is not above wanting him for herself.
Leda is better than the lowly place she finds herself in. Born a princess and now trapped as a slave serving gladiators, she fights every day just to keep her head above water. Her petitions for freedom and a return to her home country are tireless—but as a princess, she has to remain pure, and her body untainted, if she is to return at all
The last thing she should do is fall for a gladiator. But that’s exactly what happens when arena warrior Conall saves her life from a would-be assassin. Conall is wrong for Leda in every way. He’s wild. He’s reckless. He’s utterly beneath her station.
He’s also got a hard, ripped body forged by dozens of battles, a stare that makes her melt, and a love so fierce that it digs deep into the fibers of her soul. Their heat is undeniable, but Conall is dead-set on pursuing one too-dangerous fight after another. His passion will get him killed—but it’s also what draws Leda to him with her breaths hot and her undergarments totally soaked.
When they join together, they risk everything. But if there’s one thing worth dying for, it’s the desire of a gladiator.

Read more at
Lydia Pax’s site
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