Ride Me Away (9 page)

I felt a delicate hand on my shoulder.

“Welcome to the club, sister,” Jess said.

I was beginning to wonder if these guys actually had anything to hide. They had welcomed me with open arms, not even knowing anything about me or who I was. I had been expecting months of work getting to know each of the members before they would finally approve of me. Maybe things were a bit more laid back for sisters.

They took me back inside to clean me up. I assumed that the rest of the girls here had been through the same initiation, which helped ease the humiliation I might have otherwise felt.

Back in the makeup room, Jessica threw me a towel and I wiped my ass dry. They wouldn’t let me change back into my normal clothes though, so I assumed the initiation wasn’t quite over yet.

The men were rowdy when we got into the main bar area. A few of them were at the pool table, some sitting around under the wall of pictures, having beers and chatting.

I walked through the small crowd, looking to find Jag.

“Welcome to the club, sista!” one of the men hollered.

“Woo!” another called out shortly after.

I attracted the attention of all the men as I walked by them. My ass was getting sore and red from being constantly spanked.

Jag was sitting at the bar with Rodney. The two of them were talking quietly, away from everyone else. There might be something to uncover here, after all.

“Hey, darlin’!” Jag said as I approached.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Rodney said as he stood up and walked over to the group.

“Everything all right?” I asked.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. We were just discussing some stuff. So, how does it feel to be a sister?”

“No different than before.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re welcome around here any time now.”

I looked over Jag's shoulder and noticed a framed copy of the newspaper article I had discovered in the old abandoned house.

“I've seen that before, what's that about?” I asked as I pointed to it.

“The paper?” he asked as he turned to it. “That's—”

BANG! BOOM! WHOOSH!

The sound of gunshots and bullets ricocheting throughout the building brought the celebrations to an instant halt. I looked behind me to see holes appearing through the front wall. The girls were all panicking while the men quickly tried to escort them to the back.

“Let’s go!” Jag stood up and began pushing me to the backdoor. “Go, run! Let us take care of this.”

The brothers pushed all of us girls to the back of the building before turning around to stand their ground. They cocked their pistols and hid behind whatever they could find, all facing the door.

“Be quiet!” I yelled over the girls, realizing that I would have to be their leader since I was the only one who was calm.

With all of their eyes on me, I instructed them to lay low and hide wherever they could.

There was a gun rack just by the back door that was full of pistols and ammo. The undercover agent in me came out and the heavily trained fight or flight response kicked in.

I ran to the back and grabbed one of the guns and two clips. One went in the pistol and the other in the waist of this sad excuse for a skirt.

The coast was usually clear on these types of shootings. They were meant to instill fear in the enemy only. It wasn’t a full-on raid.

Sneaking through the backyard, I got out and made my way down the back alley to the left. I’d sneak around the side of these guys and get them that way. There was no way these assholes were doing this to
my
club.

When I got to the next street, I took another left, and then another to bring myself onto the street the rival gang was parked out on. The sound of their gunfire rang through the street and I was the only one there except for them. Everyone else was hiding.

As I got closer, I saw them in front of the club, hiding behind cars. The muzzle flashes and streetlights lit them up perfectly for me. I snuck closer, making my way through the trees in the neighboring yards.

Nobody had spotted me, and I was finally in position. I took aim at the back of their heads.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

I dropped five of them before ducking behind a big metal dumpster. The gunshots stopped briefly as I heard them yelling.

“Behind us!”

Inside the clubhouse, I prayed that they would be watching the security cameras. I hoped this was enough of a distraction for them to make their move.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The gunshots resumed, this time from a bit further away. The Satan’s Saviors were taking the initiative. I took another look up from behind the dumpster to see the Reapers scrambling.

The pit of my stomach filled with rage as my eyes saw him.
Buster.

“Shit! Let’s get out of here!” I heard the men yelling again before car doors slammed. They were all disarmed and scrambling for their lives.

I put my sights on Buster. This time, it was personal.

Click!

My gun was jammed.
Fuck!
I ducked down behind the dumpster again, trying to fix it quickly before they could escape.

The sound of car tires screeching as they peeled out was the only sound remaining. The firefight was over.

I waited behind the dumpster just a while longer until I heard cheering coming from the clubhouse. I let out a sigh of relief and relaxed, standing back on two feet.

Jag and the others were striding down the street to meet me.

“Fuckin’ awesome!”

“God damn, girl!”

Jag took me into his arms with a huge smile covering his face.

“Good work, babe. You made me a proud man in there. Your dad must have taught you a lot more than what you let on.”

“Yeah. Good work,” Rodney said, appearing to be less than impressed. His eyes pierced mine and his gaze was unfaltering. He was the first one to turn and go back to the clubhouse.

“Buster was in there,” I whispered quietly in Jag’s ear as we turned to follow the others.

“Buster? What?” he looked at me with questioning eyes. “Those were the Reapers. Are you sure?”

“Yeah, he looked right at me. I’ll never forget that face.”

“Why didn’t you drop that fucker?”

“I tried, but the gun jammed,” I said as I slammed it up against his chest and he took it from me. Some of the other guys began dragging the bodies back to the clubhouse and washing the blood down the storm drains.

I began worrying about my priorities on this mission. That evening spent with Jag shooting cans seemed to have more of an impact on me than I wanted it to. Questions were flying through my head as to who I was truly loyal to. Never before did I have to question myself about a mission.
Should I pull the plug?

Jag was coming over tonight for our first “real” date. He wanted to give me a nice evening together since all of our encounters lately ended up with violence.

I was nervous—more nervous than I’d ever been in my entire life.

Walking into a gunfight?
Easy
. Asking for casual sex?
Simple
. Going on a date that actually mattered to me?
Scary as fuck
. This uncertainty was slowly consuming me.

I hadn’t been on a real date since high school. I’d learned from an early age that men were dangerous. Too many of my friends dropped from their careers to start a family, to move somewhere… to make some guy happy.

That wasn’t what I wanted. I needed a reality check. I needed to realize that Jag was bad for me.

Despite what I thought I should do, I still spent hours agonizing over what to wear, how to do my makeup, and if I should wear heels or flats.

Eventually, I settled on a nice leather jacket, jeans, and a pair of flats. I figured it was the best option. I could still look nice while not looking like I was trying too hard.

I looked at the clock. Four in the afternoon. Jag wouldn’t be here for another two hours. Clearly, I had a problem.

As I waited, my thoughts returned to how I could deal with this and still get the job done.

Someone was knocking at my door.

I knew immediately that it was Jag. I got up to let him in.

When I opened the door, I couldn’t believe my eyes. His hair was well groomed, he looked freshly showered, and he was wearing clean clothes. Even his shoes looked like they had been cleaned.

The only thing about him that I recognized was his Satan’s Saviors jacket, but I was okay with that, given how much effort he had put in otherwise. He’d really pulled out all the stops tonight. It took almost all of my willpower not to jump his bones right there.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said as he leaned in for a kiss on the cheek. “I brought you something.”

Jag pulled one hand out from behind his back. “I know you like roses,” he said, holding a single flower up between us.

I felt a smile spread across my face as I took it from him.

“Thank you!” I nearly squealed with my excitement.

I took the rose back inside and put it inside of a vase with a little water before I made my way back over to him, still standing in the doorway.

“I couldn’t find one with thorns on it. I hope that’s cool with you.”

“It’s perfect,” I said as I threw my arms over his shoulders, giving him a kiss and gazing into his eyes. “I love it.”

It all felt so real, and I could no longer tell if I was playing the part or not.

The two of us went downstairs and hopped on his bike before we roared off down the street.

He took me to Vibrato Grill Jazz, one of the more famous places in the area. I’d heard a lot about it in the time I had spent here already.

When we walked through the door, we were greeted right away with a friendly face, “Jag! Nice to see you. Right this way,” he said as he bowed slightly.

I looked over at Jag, surprised to see how friendly this man was being, but the special treatment didn’t even seem to faze him.

We followed the man to a table in the back, secluded from the other customers. The lighting was dimmed and there were candles already lit and waiting for us. The table was adorned with another single rose.

“What is this?” I asked, shocked once again as I grabbed the rose.