Page 22 of Breaking the Rules (Roaming Devils MC 1)

Chapter Five

The moment Ryker stepped into the club, he knew Razor was pissed at him. The old man couldn’t hide his feelings well, and he didn’t even try where Ryker was concerned.

“I see you’ve decided to grace us with your presence.” Razor propped his chin on his hand, staring at him. “You don’t answer your phone now? We had important club business to handle and you’re shacked up with that fucking doctor.”

Ryker snorted. “Important club business? Like what?”

“Does it fucking matter? You didn’t answer your goddamn phone.” Razor stood and came over to him. “I’m starting to think that you don’t take your position as sergeant-at-arms seriously. That pussy has clouded your vision and your place in the club.”

He didn’t say anything. Most of the time, letting Razor say his piece was the best option instead of arguing with him.

“I’m not going to tell you this again. Stay away from her. She’s bad for you and she’s bad for the club.”

Ryker stared at him. “Or what?”

Razor tilted his head back. Nobody challenged Razor. Ryker didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with him, but his father’s attitude pissed him off. He’d always had it out for Ella. Even when they were teens. He told him that girls like that with fathers like hers didn’t mix with their kind. He thought the old man was scared of her father, but the more Ryker listened to him talk, the more he thought Ella scared him. She threatened his legacy. She threatened to take Ryker away from the club.

Ryker knew damn good and well that he’d never leave the Roaming Devils MC. He didn’t want to. The club also had leverage on him that they would hand over to the police in a pretty package with a fucking bow if he even threatened to leave. It was a forced commitment and usually the last option they had when members left. In prison, they’d forced him to need them for protection. But they’d made him earn it.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew the lifelong commitment that came with the club. He knew it and had seen what it did to those that came before him. He didn’t know what card the old man wanted to play, but to protect Ella, he needed to stay away from her. God, he kept telling himself that, but like the junkie he was, he kept going back to her for more. He’d never forgive himself if she ended up hurt or dead because of him. With the look in Razor’s eyes, the entire situation was heading down that dark road.

“Don’t test me, boy.”

Ryker rubbed his eyes. “Ella is not a threat to this club so drop it. I’ll be right there, ready to ride when everyone else is. You blow things out of proportion.”

Razor stared at him. Ryker didn’t think for one second that his father believed him. “We’ve got a shipment coming in today. Go get it.”

Ryker nodded. “Okay.”

“No more bullshit, Ryker.” His father’s eyes darkened. “Next time, I won’t be so understanding.”

Yeah, he knew that. Ryker disappeared to take a shower and change his clothes. When he came back to the main room, Ghost waited for him. Ryker snorted. His father didn’t trust him, so he sent the VP to go with him. That made sense. He didn’t say anything as they walked out. Ghost really shouldn’t have been in the hierarchy of the club but especially not VP. However, the bastard had more loyalty than Ryker and he could kill when he wanted to.

Now he was Razor’s bitch boy.

“Your father sent me to help,” Ghost commented. “No need to get pissed off about it.”

“Right.” Ryker started the engine of his bike and waited for Ghost to take the lead.

The pickup site for the cocaine was on the opposite end of town. Their supplier smuggled it in from Peru and shipped it to them. The pure grade, uncut kilos were packaged and waiting for them like a present at Christmas time.

They collected the ten kilos and left. With as much drugs as he had on him, he had to be even more aware of the police. He and Ghost went the back roads in Atlanta, taking the product to an off-the-road warehouse where they processed it. The drug business supplied the majority of club money but Ryker knew that Razor was trying to dabble in the gun trade. If he landed a deal, Ryker wanted to switch. It would—he hoped—put the cravings behind him for good.

“I’m not going in. You can take them in,” Ryker said once he and Ghost had parked.

“You can take them,” Ghost scoffed. “I’m not doing it for you.”

Each time Ryker went to the processing warehouse, he came out like a junkie going through withdraw. It was bad enough when he’d gone to get Ella’s father, but Young Blood’s setup wasn’t anything like the one the Roaming Devils ran.

Ryker huffed a breath and grabbed the coke from his saddle bags. He needed to get in and get out. Opening the door, he took a deep breath and went inside. The processing of cocaine was in numerous phases. They had the raw cocaine that was pure and untouched. Then they cut it, mixing it with something that tainted the purity but drove up the cost. Afterward they packaged it, then sent it out to be distributed. Ryker stopped, instantly smelling the powered dust that came from cutting it. He needed a respirator but he didn’t have one handy.

“Aw, look who decided to drop by.” Torch smiled at him and slapped him on the back. “Long time no see, brother.”

Ryker smiled at the other man. Torch was the lead chemist in the factory. He collected and produced the most sought after cocaine in the city. The man kept the Roaming Devils in business and he was fucking worth his weight in gold.

“Yeah. We got you some goodies.” Ryker slapped Torch on the back as they hugged before he handed over what he’d collected.

“Ah, nice.” Torch grabbed a large knife and slit the packaging of one of the bricks. Getting a little of the powder on his finger, he brought it to his mouth and tasted it. “Fuckin’ A. Have you tried the new shit? No wonder this city is so damn needy for this stuff.”

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