Page 105 of Rider Daddies
Ash stands solo, his supernatural blue eyes burning through my skull. He gives me the hardest stare yet. He knows what I’m thinking.
Somehow, he always knows what I’m thinking.
Which is why he looks anxious, high brow bone set higher than normal.
Tristan shifts his weight onto the other foot. “What’s it gonna be, Lucia? I don’t have all night. Are you going to come with me, or are you going to be burying your best friend tonight?”
“Figlio di puttana,”I mumble to myself, taking advantage of Tristan’s American ignorance.
Tristan has given me a choice, but I know him—failure to choose the right option will only lead to more chaos. Killing Willow won’t stop him from pursuing me. The man literally went all out to get me to love him for an entire year. On top of that, he shook hands and secured employment with a sex trafficker, just to cage me up.
How is this man a lawyer again?
Words.
There’s a reason that this clubhouse was built miles away from civilization: People with words always win.
Ash raises his gun, cocking the muzzle toward Tristan.
“Don’t.” I give him my best stern look. If one of these guys kills Tristan, the club stands no chance. He already got the police onto us.
He set them on us to get me back.
When that failed, he paid us a visit himself.
Twice.
It’s too risky.
But also, dare I say romantic?
These guys have bigger hearts than they let on.
They’re willing to risk their home for me.
I rub the smile off my face—now’s not the time to get smitten, especially with Tristan present. Jealousy is dangerous when it’s felt by the wrong person, and the emotion might just be all the motivation Tristan needs to pull the trigger.
I keep still, silently weighing up my options. Tristan needs to be killed. He won’t stop stalking and pushing until he has what he wants.
Death is the only thing that will stop him.
“Lucia—”
“Fine,” I say, cutting him off.
There used to be a time when my name on his tongue used to melt my heart.
Now, it turns the organ cold.
I heave out a breath and take my first rigid step toward him. The satisfying smile on his face is irritating, like billions of ants are crawling under my skin, eating away at me slowly.
“Lucia?” Ryder calls. “Step back, what are you?—?”
Saint stabs his elbow into Ryder’s stomach, silencing him.
I keep quiet and get closer to Tristan.
Willow is crying, maybe even more than before.
