Page 63 of Ridin' Free
And that’s who she was.HisAli.
He could hardly put it into words, but that morning, he was certain the woman who called himdaddywasn’t Phoenix. In the heat of the moment, her legs spread and her surrender complete,he’d been granted access to the woman underneath all that bravado.
And, damn, was she beautiful.
That machine was the best seven hundred dollars he’d spent in a long time.
He hadn’t seen this coming, but he wasn’t pussy whipped. It was more than that. She had a hold on him he had no interest in shaking. He wanted only to grab hold of her just as tight. He’d yet to unearth her whole story; he didn’t know the depth of her pain—but he knew there was something about her, somethingfiercethat called to him. She didn’t need rescuing, which was a good thing—‘cause he was no savior. But she deserved better. She deserved to be appreciated, admired, and respected. She deserved to be loved.
He couldn’t say where they were headed or for how long. He couldn’t claim he was the right man to love her—but she sure did make him want to try.
It was a fucking miracle.
Twister rolled onto the compound twenty minutes before the top of the hour. Slick had a set of keys and had opened up the store without him. His staff respected him and their livelihood enough that he knew when he arrived, everything would be fine.
So far as the store was concerned, he was right.
He barely stepped foot through the front doors when his phone began to ring. It was Bull calling, and he answered without delay.
“Yeah?”
“Need a word. Got a minute?”
Twister glanced around the store then replied, “Yeah. We doin’ this over the phone?”
“Meet you at the clubhouse in five.”
“Copy.”
As he disconnected the call, he made his way out the door through which he just entered. Not five minutes later, he was seated at the table in the Stallions’ conference room when Bull walked in, shutting the door behind him.
“I’m guessin’ this isn’t about Shadow, or else you would have said so on the phone.”
“You’re right. Though, we do need to handle that vote this weekend. Can’t leave the kid hangin’,” Bull replied as he pulled out a chair for himself. “The sooner he gets his patch and ink, the better. He’s a loose end we can’t afford right now.”
Twister furrowed his brow.
“Alright. Why do I suddenly get the feelin’ I’m not gonna like what you have to say?”
“‘Cause you’re not stupid.”
“What is it, then?”
“Rumor has it, Scorpion’s managed to get himself an early release.”
Twister leaned back in his chair, completely caught off guard by this news.
“Shit. We were supposed to have another year.”
“So far it’s just a rumor. Heard it from Dog this mornin’. Already put Lexi on it. I expect I’ll have some sort of confirmation by the end of the day.”
Twister didn’t respond right away but let the news sink in. Scorpion was the former president of the Wild Stallions Motorcycle Club until things started to get out of hand. He became a recluse, addicted to drugs, on a mission to run the club into the ground. It had been Bull who led the charge to right the ship. His takeover had been hostile. There wasn’t a ranked member among them who hadn’t been there for the fight. Lives had been lost. Allegiances had shifted. It wasn’t easy—but it was right.
Rather than resort to murder to get Scorpion out of the way, Bull figured out how to get him put behind bars for drug possession. After his trial, everyone knew his seven-year sentence was a temporary solution—but it was enough time for Bull to establish himself as their leader.
“Six years he’s been hardly more than a ghost, livin’ down the street,” muttered Twister, speaking of the Campbell County Detention Center. “You know he’s gonna come back to haunt us?”
“I called you in here, didn’t I?” Bull shot back with a quirked eyebrow. “I’m not worried, but I’m also far from dumb. We need to have a game plan.”
