Ryker (Kings of Korruption MC Book 1) (11 page)

“Um, Ryker could you ...”
 
She trails off, chewing on her lower lip.
 
She winces when she accidently nibbles on the place where it’s split.
 
I raise my brows in question as she takes a deep breath before continuing.
 
“Could you turn your back?”
 
She holds up the clothes in her hands.
 
“I don’t want to be alone, but I really need to change.”

Like the gentleman I am, I nod curtly and turn my back, giving her some privacy.
 
She doesn’t get any though – not when I realize I can still see her through the mirror hanging above the dresser.
 
She stares at my back for a moment before turning slightly and pulling off her shirt.
 
Next she removes her tattered tank top.
 
Fuck.
 
Me.
 

Charlie’s naked body makes my mouth run dry.
 
I can’t peel my eyes away from her.
 
Her tits are fucking perfect.
 
Big, but not huge, perky, and tipped with the tightest dusky pink nipples I’ve ever seen.
 
I may be a total dick for watching her without her knowing, but I can’t fucking help myself.
 
She’s fucking gorgeous.

My cock roars to attention as she pulls on her oversized University of Toronto hoodie, then shimmies out of her tiny little polka dot pajama shorts.
 
I lose the battle with my rock hard cock when I get a glimpse of her in that tiny little white thong.
 
Perfection.
 
Her waist is slim, and from the angle of her ass that I can see, it’s round and firm.
 
Her legs are muscular and long, just the perfect length for wrapping around my hips … or shoulders.
 
Reaching down, I readjust my straining erection just as she pulls her tight as fuck yoga pants up and over those trim hips.

“All done.”
 
I turn as she tosses me my shirt, then moves back to the closet.
 
Grabbing a backpack, she begins stuffing it with clothes and toiletries.
 
I stay silent, willing my cock to go back to sleep when I notice her folding up her scrubs to put into the bag.

 
“No need for those, baby.”
 
Her eyes shoot to mine, a frown creasing her brow as I continue.
 
“You won’t be going to work for a while.
 
At least not until I can make sure Krueger is history.”

She places her hands on her hips.
 
“I need to work, Ryker.”
 

“Sorry, babe.
 
Not gonna happen.
 
That dumb fuck knows where you live and where you work.
 
He’s been watching you.
 
Said so yourself.
 
Until we can get him dealt with, you’re on vacation.”

Now her frown goes from one of confusion to one of anger.
 
“Ryker … I appreciate you helping Anna and I out, and protecting us from the Devils, but I can’t just not work because of them.
 
My job’s important to me.
 
I can’t just end my career because some psycho tried to …”
 
She chokes up, not able to say the words.
 
Watching her struggle because of what that fucker did pisses me off even more.

 
“Rape you?”
 
I growl the words angrily, arching my eyebrow in a challenging look.
 
“Charlie, that fucker came into your home and tried to rape you.
 
He hurt you.”
 
My chest burns with rage, the burn getting stronger as I look around the room and picture him putting his hands on her, knowing that she had to defend herself with a vase of fucking
flowers.
 
“You’re
not
going to work until we find him.
 
I won’t argue on this.
 
Not even an hour ago, you were ready to skip town altogether, so what does it matter?
 
People die all the time, Charlie.
 
We’ll find you another job when this blows over.”

A tear rolls down her cheek, dripping from her chin.
 
She stares at me, her eyes blank – empty.
 
Watching her, I swear to myself that for every tear she cries over Krueger, that sick fuck will meet his own blade. One slice per tear.
 
Every fucking one.
 

Finally she nods, throws the scrubs on the rumpled bed and continues to fill her bag.
 
Once she’s done, she moves to stand in front of me.
 
Reaching out, I take her bag and grab her hand in mine.
 
Leading her out of the apartment, we walk hand in hand to my waiting bike.

Chapter Eight

Charlotte

Ow.
 
I pull in a shaky breath and try to force my eyes open.
 
My head is pounding.
 
My nostrils are full of a familiar, welcoming smell.
 
What is that?
 
I finally win the battle with my eyelids and peel them open.
 
Where the fuck am I?
 
I lay there for a minute, looking around the unfamiliar room and try to figure out what the hell is going on.
 
The room is small and contains only a bed, nightstand and dresser for furniture.
 
Other than a lamp and blinds, there’s no décor in this room at all.
 
I lay in a large rumpled bed that contains a smell I recognize instantly.
 
Ryker.

The events of last night come back to me in a rush.
 
Sitting up quickly, I gasp for air, trying to control my rapidly conflicting emotions.
 
Krueger, my bedroom, smashing my favorite vase on his head, Ryker and Anna groping each other in the staff room, and then, Ryker whisking us both off to safety.
 
My head throbs, causing stabbing pains to my nose and cheekbones.
 
Slowly, I lift a shaky hand to my face and gasp.
 
My nose is swollen, which explains the need to breathe through my mouth.
 
My cheek feels puffy and tight.

I don’t remember much from last night, after we left my apartment.
 
I vaguely remember Ryker pulling up to a tiny white house in the middle of nowhere, and leading me inside.
 
He’d tossed me one of his t-shirts and told me to get ready for bed.
 
I’d been like a zombie, just going through the motions.
 
I pulled on the shirt, crawled into his bed without argument and was dead to the world within seconds.

A glance at the clock, sitting on the battered old nightstand, tells me that it’s almost eleven o’clock in the morning.
 
Figuring I’ll find Ryker asleep on the couch, I pull on my yoga pants, quickly run my fingers through my hair and leave the bedroom in search of him.
 
The house isn’t very big and the living room is just down a short hallway so I find it quickly.
 
The couch is older and worn, but comfortable looking.
 
I notice that just like his bedroom, the living room has very little furniture and no decorations or personal effects at all.
 
Nothing to hint about the person who lives here.
 
I also notice that Ryker is not in here, so I wander into the kitchen.
 

Again, no personal touches at all – just a sparse kitchen, with a small table and four chairs in the corner.
 
The place is clean and tidy.
 
It’s also empty.
 
Where is he?
 
I look outside and see a motorcycle.
 
Moving to the front door, I slowly push it open.
 
The screen door squeaks on it’s hinges.
 
Outside, a very large man in a leather cut stands from where he was sitting on the front step.
 
Yelping loudly, I stop mid-step.

Taking a step back inside, I pull the screen door half closed and look through it.
 
He’s about six feet tall, in his early twenties and covered in brightly colored tattoos.
 
I notice right away that his cut represents the Kings and not the Devils so I relax a fraction.
 
When my eyes meet his, my relaxation fades and fear fills me again.
 
His eyes are dark and cold.
 
He’s an attractive man, but the hard expression he wears makes him look intimidating and menacing.
 
His jaw is covered with several days of dark stubble and there’s a deep scar slashing across his right cheek.
 
He stares back at me, and the longer I stare at him, my mouth open in fear, the angrier he looks.

“Like what you see?”
 
Anger and sarcasm drip from his voice.

Realizing too late that he thinks I’m staring at his scar, I close my mouth and try to find my voice.
 
“Sorry. I – I – I’m just looking for Ryker?”
 
I try to smile at him politely, but I know it looks phony.
 
I’m scared out of my mind.

“He ain’t here.”
 
He turns away then and sits down on the step once again, his back to me.
 
From the back, I take in his muscled frame and the back of, what even I have to admit, is an extremely sexy fauxhawk.
 

“Do – do- um … you don’t happen to know when he’ll be back, do you?”
 
I’m trying so hard to sound natural but I’m stuttering like a fool.

He doesn’t even turn around to look at me.
 
“No,” is all he says, telling me that I’ve been dismissed.

“Okay.
 
Um … thanks.”
 
I stare at his back for another moment, trying to figure out what the hell to do now, before I turn and close the door behind me.
 
I make sure to lock it.

Now what?
 
I don’t even know where I am.
 
Taking another look around at Ryker’s small house, I swallow the bubble of panic rising in my chest.
 
I need to talk to my sister.
 
Ryker is probably with her.
 
He’s said he was having her taken to the “clubhouse,” so I assume that’s where he went.
 
I’m amazed at the jealousy I feel over their relationship.
 
Ryker isn’t mine to be possessive of, and he seems like a good person, biker status aside.
 
I should be happy that my sister finally has someone good in her life.
 
Shouldn’t I?

Sighing sadly, I go back to the bedroom, grab my stuff and go to the bathroom to take a shower.
 
I might as well get ready for the day.
 
When Ryker comes home, he will take me to Anna, and then we can figure out what’s next.

***

Ryker

I finally roll back into my driveway in the middle of the night.
 
Tease is already mounting his bike as I pull to a stop.
 
With a quick nod, he speeds down the drive and out onto the road.
 
Tease is a prospect, and a man of few words.
 
He got his name after beating the shit out of one of the biggest sons of bitches I’ve ever seen, after the guy had the balls to make fun of his scar.
 
He’s not a fan of being teased.
 
He doesn’t talk much, and has absolutely zero sense of humor, but he’s loyal and one tough motherfucker.
 
I’d felt safe leaving him to protect Charlie today.

It’d been a long ass day, and I want nothing more than to crawl into bed, where Charlie lays, warm and sleeping.
 
After she’d passed out the night before, I’d stripped down to my boxer briefs and crawled in beside her.
 
She’d smelled so fucking good.
 
My erection had started before I’d even gotten into bed with her, but the moonlight on her face revealed the bruises and steri-strips holding her cheek together.
 
Rage once again took over, quickly deflating my overeager cock.

I’d woken up early and set off to find Krueger.
 
I wanted that fucker dead.
 
He didn’t know it yet, but hurting Charlie was the biggest mistake of his life.
 
It felt like a personal attack, even though he didn’t know she knew me.
 
The possession I feel towards her is overwhelming and I can’t figure it out.
 
What is it about her that makes me want to kill any son of a bitch that even looks at her?
 
I don’t want an old lady, and there’s no way there can ever be anything between us, but knowing that doesn’t make me want her any less.
 
It also doesn’t mean that I’m not going to do everything I can to bring that psycho bastard down, so he can’t lay a finger on her ever again.

For the second night in a row, I look down at my bed to see Charlie sleeping peacefully.
 
Her dark hair is spread out in a fan across my pillows, and I can smell her fresh, floral scent from where I stand.
 
The room is dark so I can’t make out the severity of her bruising, but I can see places on her face that are darker than they should be.
 
Anger churns in my gut.
 
Swallowing it down, I once again strip down to my boxer briefs and crawl into bed beside her.
 
She lays on her side with her back towards me so I curl up behind her, needing to be close to her – reassuring myself that she’s still safe.