Page 42 of Rider Daddies
The question only leaves me with more. Why did he want to marry me? Did he actually love me? Was it all just a game of manipulation?
Manual’s grating voice filters back into my ears. “It was you, wasn’t it?” he hisses into Ryder’s ear. “You have some mouth. I bet you were the one who threatened to cut up my man’s cock into bite-size pieces.”
“No,” huffs Ryder. “Salami slices, actually.”
Manual growls, shoving Ryder even closer into his chest.
I swallow thickly, my mind reeling again.
The wedding ring wasn’t a token of appreciation. It was a fucking cuff for him to have control over me.
In a backward way, I’m thankful to Willow. If she hadn’t turned her back on me and kissed Tristan, chances are I’d be married, completely under his control.
I bite my lip. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind submission and surrender if it’s for the right man…men.But for Tristan, I would never.
I wouldn’t have surrendered to him even before all of this mess. He couldn’t even hold me at gunpoint and make me now.
“How long have you been working with Tristan?” I ask.
Manual turns his head away from Ryder to look at me. “Ah. So shedoesspeak.”
And you haven’t heard anything yet.
“Tell me,” I demand.
“How about we have this conversation away from here? Your husband is waiting for you.”
“Tristan is not her husband,” Saint says. “Lucia will be going nowhere.”
The others are in agreement.
The blade is now touching Ryder’s skin. If Manual is a serial rapist, decapitation will be child’s play.
This was all supposed to be a little bit of fun.
I barely know Ryder, yet my pulse is pounding at, like, two hundred beats per minute for him. Am I afraid to witness murder, or am I actually scared to see Ryder drop dead to the floor?
“We’re running low on time, boys. Which one will it be?” Manual asks.
“None.” A bullet flies out of Ash’s gun, shattering one of the glass windows. This stalls Manual for a moment, his grip on Ryder loosening as he ducks the shattering glass.
Chaos breaks out, men rushing forward to give Manual a piece of their mind. Bullets sail through the atmosphere, the loud shots sending a ringing through my ear.
I hold my breath and squat down, trying to find shelter. I know it’s not me that they’re after, but that doesn’t mean I won’t get accidently shot.
Afraid for my life, I scramble under a table like a scared little mouse and take up camp under there, letting the bikers do their thing.
Bullets explode through the room like fireworks. I peek out from under the table and watch as one of them knocks my favorite bottle of tequila off the bar shelf, the glass raining to the ground.
I look the other way and see that Manual has already made a start for the exit.
But he’s not quick enough.
Ash grabs Ryder by the hem of his shirt, tearing him away from Manual and dodging another bullet. The shot doesn’t quite reach the fucker, which is unlucky, but it’s enough to stall him again.
And then I lose sight of him.
“What the hell?” I mutter under my breath, heart beating the hardest it has ever done in my life.
