Page 31 of Ryder

Don’t be a dick. Leave her alone. You left her once, you can do it again.

Still, it was different back then. She was only sixteen. I’d done the right thing.

If this is the right thing to do, then why does it feel so goddamn hard? Why does it feel like someone ripped my heart right out of my chest, stomped on it, then put it back together?

Women make you weak.No. I shut Wayne’s words out of my head. It was one of his most favorite things to say. My mom may have been many things, but she deserved better than that creep.

But I can’t shut it out, because maybe I’m starting to realize it’s true. It’s not that they make you weak, but that they could be hurt because of you. Bringing her into MC life? We may not be 1%ers but we’re still no saints. Bad stuff still happens and I could never live with myself if I brought Crystal into this world and she got hurt because of me.

Am I a motherfucking excuse of an asshole? Am I just looking for an out? The pounding of my heart tells me I’m not. The way my knuckles turn white as I grip the handlebars, forcing myself to look away.

She can never know. That’s my final decision.

I start my sled up with a deafening rumble, because fuck it, if I’m gonna be heartbroken by my own doing, then I want the whole fucking world to know.

When I glance back, they’ve moved inside the restaurant. I rev the engine a couple of times, earning me annoyed looks from passersby, but I don’t give a shit. This is my misery, and I’ll wallow in it if I want to.

I take off from the curbside with a loud roar, leaving nothing but nostalgia behind.

And it’s like I was never there.

Crystal

School drags. It’s been two weeks, and other than a text asking if I got home safe, I haven’t heard anything from Ryder.

I miss him. I can’t stop thinking about him. But being the man who recently took my virginity — andmy brother’s best friend — I think I’m entitled to my feelings. Even if they are unrequited. I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew that I wouldn’t be starting something permanent with Ryder. I’d be a fool to think that. But still, I wallow around like the world is ending. And maybe it is.

Did I really think that when I got back to Arizona I’d just forget about everything?

His touch.

His words.

His protectiveness.

Every single memory of him lights the fire deep within. A fire that has been smoldering for a very long time.

I don’t know how to put it out, or if I even want to.

So, I do what I do best and throw myself into study. I volunteer wherever I can, pulling double shifts, doing anything to take my mind off Ryder. I know it’s impossible, but I can still smell him everywhere I go. That musky, pine, woodsy scent that I couldn’t mistake anywhere else. At night, I cling to his t-shirt that I stole — I figured after he kept my panties and my wings, it was only fair.

The faded Harley Davidson shirt has a couple of holes, and has probably seen better days, but I don’t care.

I don’t know when I became so fucking pathetic. If I’d have known how this was going to make me feel afterward, would I still have gone through with it? I don’t even have to think about that one. I know the answer, and it’s yes. Yes, I would.

The months go by, and before I know it, my friends are dragging me out to party with them. I have to admit, I have been a Debbie Downer for a little while. I need to snap out of it.

“It would help if you didn’t blow off every guy who approaches you,” my friend Deanna says, hands on hips. “You’re still wallowing over that dude from New Orleans, aren't you?”

Deanna’s father is the President of the Bracken Ridge Rebels, a small town only a few hours from Phoenix. He’s good friends with Cash, the NOLA club president and I’m reminded, yet again, what a small world it is.

“I’m not wallowing.”

She gives me a pointed look, then shakes her head. “You could have any guy you wanted. Look at them all drooling over you.”

I hold the paper cup filled with warm beer to my mouth and look up. Granted, there are a couple of guys looking our way, but I hadn’t noticed. I don’t even take a sip. Warm beer is not my thing.

“I don’t think they’re drooling, they’re just trying to work out how easy we are.”

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