Page 41 of Ripper
“Lower your fucking gun and I’ll tell you,” she propositioned.
I sighed, lowering it, but I kept my finger firmly pressed up against the side in case she tried anything stupid.
“That girlfriend of yours, she’s trouble. I didn’t want to be the one to have to warn you, but since I’ve been keeping a pretty close eye on all the things you’ve been up to lately, I think it’s best that you know she’s even more of a snake than I am,” she said, playfully hissing at me.
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.
“So, that’s what this is about? You’re fucking jealous so you think you can just show up here and try to talk me out of seeing her?”
“This isn’t about me being jealous. You and I both know you were the one to lose the most when we broke up. I’m here to let you know that she’s playing you because quite frankly, if it were me, I’d want to know too. Think of it as a peace offering. The calm before the storm,” she said.
“You’re wrong.”
“No, actually I’m not. You have a way of attracting women that are far better at playing you than you think, Ripper. I should know. I was one of them.”
“I think it’s time for you to leave. I’ve had a long day, and I need some rest. If I see your ass around here again I’ll have no choice but to make sure you won’t be crawling back to those Freeway Fucks, got it?”
“Whatever you say, Ripper. Whatever you say.”
She put her hands up, walking away with that mischievous smirk on her face and the giggle I still had fucking nightmares about. I wondered for a moment if she was just trying to get under my skin or if for the first time in her fucking life, she was actually trying to be honest with me. I wasn’t gonna let Anna come between Ronnie and me, but I sure as hell couldn’t ignore what she’d said. She was part of the Freeway Kings now, and by even knowing that I was seeing Ronnie to begin with, it was clear those fuckers were doing their homework.
***
I woke up just after five o’clock in the evening, sleeping off all the exhaustion that had made my body ache and my eyes heavy. I pulled out my cell phone to see that I had a new text message from Ronnie sent a few hours earlier.We still on for tomorrow?
I smiled, texting her back quickly, remembering how good things were when I last saw her. I imagined what would’ve happened had we not been interrupted by that little high-speed chase. I wanted to taste her again. I wanted to grab a handful of her hair, kissing her hard. I thought about her soft skin, the way she smelled, and how badly I wanted to touch every inch of her. I got hard just thinking about it. I was rock solid, throbbing, and damn well wishing she were here.
I beamed as another text message came through.Can’t wait. See you then!Once the pleasure from that little moment started to wear off, I remembered what we were dealing with here.
As much as I wanted to forget about all of this shit and spend every moment wrapped up with Ronnie, I knew it would only be a matter of time before duty called. I got up from the couch, stretching my tight muscles before taking a quick shower, grabbing my keys, and heading straight out the door. I rode down to Tank’s house, knowing he was taking some time off after nearly choking back when we were dealing with the Kings. I knew he was on edge, but it wasn’t until I arrived, seeing his overgrown lawn, the tattered clothes on the line that looked like they’d been there for days, and the pale look on his face when he opened the door that I realized how bad shit really was.
“Ripper? Aren’t you supposed to be taking the day?”
“Yeah, well instead I’m here, and we need to talk.”
He probably picked up on the seriousness in my tone because he didn’t say another word, holding the door open for me so I could join him inside. Tank sat down on his couch in his old white T-shirt and sweats, waiting for me to speak.
“Anna’s been visiting me. Ever since I found out that she was a part of the Freeway Kings, she’s been making my life hell. She’s got something up her sleeve, Tank, I can practically feel it. Look, I know you want to wait until we gather more intel to hit back, but don’t you see what’s happening? These fuckers are getting too damn cocky. Ray’s got his men out ready to fight, why don’t we?”
“You know how much more shit we’d have to deal with if something goes wrong? You forgetting what happened at Tease, and when those bikers that beat the shit out of you and gave you that nasty scar? You expect me to send everyone out to do what exactly?” he asked, angrily.
“To send a damn message. Anna’s been doing a pretty damn good job of that, Tank. We wait too long; we might as well throw in the towel now. We can’t afford another wounded rider,” I said.
I was taking a chance jumping down his throat like this, but he wasn’t on his fucking A-game. There was something up with him, something that made him feel the need to hold off when he damn well knew we could handle ourselves out there on the streets. I was too damn tired of waiting, of wondering whether we were just fucking ourselves over by hoping we’d find the perfect strategy to destroy Ray’s little operation. That shit was growing every day, and it was time we fucking did something about it.
“Fine. I’ll think about it. I’ll call a meeting tomorrow. If this shit’s a go, we might have to work it into your next weapons run. We can’t be low on cash and goods if we’re gonna be opening the line of fire,” he said.
“You say the word and I’ll get it done. Those fuckers won’t know what hit ’em, Tank. It’s time we give ’em hell, don’t you think?”
I saw a glint of hope in those exhausted eyes of his. He’d been holding down the fucking fort for as long as I could remember, and he had to know that he wasn’t the only one bearing this pressure. We all were. Tank was a man that never liked to ask for help, that always wanted to wait for the perfect opportunity to get shit done, but it was time that changed. It was time he realized that we had his fucking back no matter what. That’s the club. That’s the life we all chose to live.
***
The Tavern was bustling with people when I arrived. I could barely get through the front door with the crowd of people waiting for their drinks, the bikers growing impatient slamming their beer glasses down hoping for a refill, but I still managed to spot Ronnie in the far corner chatting up Charlotte. She was always the one at the bar whenever I’d come in for a late-night drink, but I had a feeling this conversation was about to go a whole lot differently.
I caught sight of Ronnie’s bright smile lighting up the whole damn room and I walked over to her, watching the bartender’s eyes look me up and down.
“Ripper. I know how you take your drink, but now I need to know how you’re treating my friend here. Ronnie’s told me loads,” she said.
