Page 73 of Ryder

I never wanted to bring any of this mayhem to anyone’s doorstep, but I realize that keeping things from the people who care about me is never a good thing. It only ends in disaster.

My mom and Casey chat about all the things we’re going to do together since my parents are staying to help me recover. It’s hard walking, and doing things one handed because of my broken wrist, but I’m taking each day at a time. I wanted to lay in a heap, feeling sorry for myself, and never come out of the bedroom. But that isn’t who I am. I’ve always been the life of theparty: bubbly, energetic and — at least in my eyes — hilariously funny. It’ll take time to rebuild all of that. Maybe that’s what scares me the most. Jimmy tried to take everything from me, and he almost succeeded. He kicked me like a broken dog; left me for dead when he was done with me. He didn’t give a shit. He just wanted revenge because of his jealousy, and his addiction. None of that is my fault.

At least now I never have to see him again.

I hope he rots in hell.

15

RYDER

“Fled?”I balk. “Right. This is fuckin’ fucked is what it is.” I don’t mean to bark at my brothers, but this shit is crazy. Rifle has just dropped off the face of the planet, and what’s more? The fucking feds are still searching the Devils Ink clubhouse. Meanwhile, Razor is laughing at us because he covered his tracks. Somehow, none of this leads back to him, and that has me even more riled up. There will be consequences, of course, because someone paid money for those girls, and now they don’t have a shipment. It makes my anger boil when I think about the fate for Crystal, and all those girls, held captive there.

It’s been a week since Crystal got out of the hospital, and nobody has seen head nor heard of fucking Jimmy.

“Best thing you can do is be there for Crystal,” Bronco says. “Plus, Cash is gonna patch you in, and that’ll change things around here, not just within the club — he’ll look after you, because you’ve always looked after this club.”

“I’m not sure he’ll still feel the same way now the club got dragged into this.” I palm the back of my neck. “Even if the feds do look like the real heroes, what matters more is that those girls got to safety.”

“It’s fucked.”

“Once I’m patched in and adding to club coffers, it’ll change things dramatically,” I go on. “It’ll mean I can get a place, somewhere Crystal can be safe, if that’s what she wants.”

“You don’t want her goin’ back to that apartment, do you?”

I shake my head. “Not sayin’ I can afford the nicest area in New Orleans, but I’ll do what I have to do. She can stay there, and I can keep my room here. I don’t ever want her to go back to that apartment where he attacked her.”

He gives me a side-eye. “Have you talked about that with Crys?”

I shake my head. “Her parents are stayin’ at some swanky Airbnb so they can help take care of her. I gotta say, her parents stepped up. I truly thought they’d blame my ass for this. Helped that Luca could vouch I had nothin’ to do with the Devils.”

“Why would they do that? You’re the one that got her out, and a hundred other girls.”

“He’s with an MC, and so am I. They could’ve put two and two together and condemned the Rebels, too?—”

“I think Cash had a word in her dad’s ear, that might have somethin’ to do with his change of heart,” Bronco says.

I run a palm over my face. “She looks… so fuckin’ sad. I can’t imagine how she’s even copin’ inside after sufferin’ at that bastard's hands.”

“She’s tough, a lot tougher than she looks.”

“She is, but she’s devastated about her hair. She wants to get a wig.”

After she cried in my arms that day at the hospital, I arranged for a hairdresser to come and make some kind of a style out of what she had left. It’s really fucking short, and she hates it, but it’s not jagged anymore, and to me, it looks decent. Crystal’s mane was her pride and joy, and she had beautiful golden locks, but like I told her; hair grows back.

Bronco takes a pull on the neck of his beer. “You could get her some extensions?”

I frown. “What the fuck are those?”

Bronco rolls his eyes. “Hair extensions. For now, until her own hair grows.” He taps on his phone, then hands it to me to show me images of strips of hair held together by tape. “It’s a thing. Loads of chick’s have ’em now and you wouldn’t even know it’s fake hair.”

Would this make her happy? It doesn’t matter to me how she looks. Hell, she could shave her head entirely and I wouldn’t give a shit. But it’s her confidence that’s lacking. I want her to feel secure and loved and supported. If I can do this for her, then I will. I’ll do anything to make it better.

“I’ll broach the subject. She’s fragile at the moment, but also talkin’ about bustin’ out of the Airbnb to have a break from her folks.” I smile at that idea. My feisty girl. She’s still in there.

“That’s understandable,” Bronco muses, well aware of her parents’ over-protectiveness.

“They’re concerned, and they have every right to be. I just hope they don’t convince her to leave town.”

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