Page 95 of Rider Daddies
“On a scale of one to ten, how friendly are you with the police?” Tristan taunts.
Son of a bitch.
“You sent them here,” I state. It’s not a question.
I fucking know.
Tristan slow claps. “Well done.” He looks past the gun to address me. “Do you really expect me to sit back and let you stay with these people? They’re abusing you, Lucia. Don’t you see?”
Cue the mind games.
And oh, he’s good.
It’s why I said yes to his proposal before he could even finish the sentence—he knows his way around the human mind.
I look into his eyes and understand why I stayed for a year. Why I was in such a rush to say “I do” and look forward to spending the rest of my life with him.
He gave me everything I wanted. The flowers, the affirmations. He treated me like a princess. Kissed my shoe like I was royalty, and he was a slave.
And I fucking lapped it up.
Because it was everything I never had from a man.
He has a magic way with words.
And if it wasn’t for the fireworks I get with my silver foxes, I’d be going back to California with Tristan.
I stare at him, my opinion of him starting to shift.
He thought he knew what was missing in my life…
But he was wrong.
Words only get you so far.
Words aren’t orgasmic.
Words don’t breathe new life into your lungs and make you feel reborn.
If Tristan couldn’t speak, he and I would’ve had nothing.
“Lucia!” His tone is sharper now. “Don’t you see what they’re doing to you? They don’t respect you or your body.”
All I can do is roll my eyes.
Ryder fixes his gun closer to Tristan’s head, but Ash subtly shakes his head.
I’m surprised, given their power complex, that Ryder obeys. He shoves the weapon back into his holster and steps back like a good boy.
Tristan’s death won’t reflect well on the clubhouse. Despite the man being a pain in my ass, he’s still senior manager at his law firm with notable clients that could get this place shut down in a heartbeat.
Tristan offers me his hand. “I’m gonna give you one more chance.”
Is that a threat?
I stick my hand on my hip, watching him.
He looks me up and down. “What have they done to you? What have they made you wear?”
