Page 30 of Breaking the Rules (Roaming Devils MC 1)

Ryker nodded. He could play by the rules, but when dealing with rogues, the rules went out the window. He got on his bike and led the way back to the club. He avoided Hartford Street to the best of his ability. He didn’t need to go by the free clinic just to dredge up the past. He might be tempted to pull his fucking bike in and stop by just to say hi.

He didn’t need that.

His anger pushed him harder. He became more and more aggressive without Ella in his life. She made him think that there was something better out there for him. That he could actually be something different than what his grandfather and father had drilled into his head from an early age. The reality was that he needed to man up and face the inevitable. He was meant for this life and he had to do it right. He’d stopped using drugs, again, choosing instead to handle the beat downs. Razor didn’t seem to mind it too much since most of the men he fought against in the club had lost at least once to him in the boxing ring. He became especially mean when he was on coke, but he hoped that was behind him. His head was more focused, his life more calm.

When they got to the club, Ryker called a meeting with the ranking members of the club. Ghost had yet to arrive back and Ryker couldn’t help but wonder if he was out doing his trade-off with Young Blood. He entered their meeting room, taking his spot to the right of his father. He laid his phone on the table before them.

“Ghost has been making deals with Young Blood behind our backs,” Ryker announced. “He’s been trading a kilo of our coke for guns from Young Blood and they’ve been flipping the coke to steal our business. They get their new customers hooked on the good shit we sell and then trade off for the dirty shit they sell.”

Razor narrowed his eyes. “Those are some pretty big claims. Where’s your evidence.”

Ryker clicked a few buttons on his phone and pulled up the pictures he’d taken. After Razor looked at them, he passed the phone around the table. It was one thing to go against his father like he’d done in the past. It was something completely different to go against the club and take money out of the club members’ pockets.

“Well, what are we going to do?” Sonny, the club’s long-standing treasurer, asked. “That little dip in income is costing us a large decrease.”

Razor glanced over at Ryker. “How did you find out about this?”

“I went on a run with him. We carried five kilos each to Torch and he only dropped four. Torch confirmed it when I asked him. Said he’d only brought four in for the past three runs. So I followed him. I wanted to know what the fuck he was doing with the missing kilo.”

He nodded. “I’ll handle it. Is there any other business to discuss?”

Ryker stared at his father. “You’ll handle it?”

Razor arched an eyebrow at him. Questioning him in front of everyone was a bad idea. He knew that in the back of his mind, but the words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. He knew his father wasn’t going to do anything. There wasn’t another member in the club that was quite the lap dog for him like Ghost.

“I’ll handle it.” He glanced around the table. “Sonny, pay everyone and let’s get the fuck out of here. I need to ride.”

They divvied up their money for the week and dispersed. Ryker pocketed his phone and glanced over at Vampire, who simply stared back at him. It had gone just about how he’d expected it to. The club was starting to grow concerned about the leadership. If his father kept doing shady stuff, he’d get kicked off his throne.

Ghost entered the club with a fucking smile on his face. “What’s up, fuckers?”

He slapped Superman on the back and Ryker nearly laughed when his friend reared back to slug the idiot. Ghost backed off and walked around him, heading straight to the bar for a drink.

“Where are the bitches tonight? I need to get laid.” He poured himself a scotch and turned toward the rest of the club.

Razor pulled out his gun and cocked it. “Have you been trading one brick of coke for guns behind the club’s back?”

Ghost stopped drinking and set his glass aside. “Where did you hear that from?”

“Answer the question.” Razor put the gun in the small of his back and pulled his knife next.

Ryker stared at his old man, knowing exactly what that move meant. Razor always carried a gun, but when he meant business, he used a knife and it was gory. The club members hung back and watched, fascinated that his father was actually going to do something for once.

“I didn’t do anything.” Ghost slipped from the stool and grabbed the gun at his back to point at Razor. “Back off, man.”

Razor kept moving forward. “Or what? You shoot me, any one of my brothers behind me will kill you next.”

Ghost’s hand shook. “Not all of them. Some are more loyal to me than you.”

Razor gave him a deadly smile. “Yeah? Which ones?”

He glanced around the room, desperately looking for someone to stand up for him. When nobody did, Razor taunted him. “What? No one stepping up for you, Ghost? Maybe they don’t like you screwing them over. Or maybe they just got tired of hearing your fucking mouth.”

“I didn’t do nothing.” Ghost pointed the gun at Razor. “And if you come near me with that thing, I’ll blow your fucking brains out.”

Razor ran his finger along the blade, caressing it like he would a lover. “I trusted you, Ghost. I trusted you to have the club’s best interest at all times. But you betrayed me. You betrayed the club. You stole from us for your own fucking gain and there is a price to pay for it.”

Watching, Ryker thought about what his father said. A price to pay for leaving the club. It was rare that a member left the Roaming Devils. Once they let someone in, they were a lifer. You lived, breathed, and died a club member. If someone wronged the club, death came a little sooner for them.

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