Where Souls Spoil (Bayonet Scars Series, Volume I) (Bayonet Scars #1-4.5)

“Ew,” she says. “I thought you said you were nobody’s girl.” The comment is intended for me, but she’s glaring and shaking her head at Ryan. Behind Nic, Duke lets out a heavy sigh and shoves her into the room, stepping in behind her.

“Right back at’cha,” I say. My eyes dart between the two. They look good together, even if she won’t admit it. Her eyes finally land on me, and while I’m smirking at her, thinking nothing of the fact that she hasn’t seen me since before everything that went down, I’ve totally forgotten about the bruises on my face. Her face falls, and she scowls. She crosses the room at a quick pace and crawls onto the bed on the other side of me. I turn her direction and, with Ryan’s help, I pull myself up.

“I knew you were hurt, I just didn’t know how hurt,” she says quietly as she gets comfortable with her legs crossed in front of her.

“I’m okay,” I say and look back at Ryan. Reaching out, I give his hand a squeeze. “Really, everything’s okay.” Ryan hops out of bed and greets Duke at the doorway.

“Sixty minutes,” he says with his eyes trained on Nic. She rolls her eyes, but smiles at him.

“Gosh, you really do love her, don’t you?” she says. His playful smile disappears, and he huffs as he leaves the room.

“Yeah,” I say. “He really does love me.”

The End





Ride Deleted Scenes





Chapter 6


Ryan’s POV



I LEAD MY brothers off the highway and into the dirt parking lot of a small gas station—the only structure for miles around—and thank a God I don’t believe in that I can finally take a piss. My back is killing me, my ass is numb, and my nerves are shot. I won’t feel better until we make it home.

I turn off my bike, push down the kickstand, and dismount. Our charter, the Fort Bragg Forsaken, pulls up beside me. Our Detroit charter, led by patch president, Rig, trails behind the van that carries Ma and her kid. But she’s not really a kid, now is she?

Barging into her bedroom back in Brooklyn took me aback. I knew going in that she was nineteen, but there’s nineteen and then there’s nineteen. Even free of makeup, with a braid running down the back of her head, and with her body covered up, she not a little girl. She’s on the verge of womanhood. I guess it’s been longer than I thought since Ma got a picture from Gloria. And fuck if it ain’t screwing with me. Now’s not really the time to think about getting my dick sucked, but it’s not like I’ve got much else to think about on such a long ride.

I weave through my brothers and head toward the black van, parked at the gas pump. Ian and Pop stride up behind me, stretching their tired muscles as they walk. The front doors of the van swing open, and Bear and Diesel climb out and head toward Rig’s crew is filling up the bikes. Reaching the van, I grab hold of the sliding door and pull it open.

Sitting on the long seat in front of me is Alexandra. Seated next to her is Ma, who looks like she’s in serious need of a drink and some bud. Alexandra’s eyes are wide, and the exhaustion from the situation shows on her face. In this moment, they look so much alike. Neither one is well rested, nor do they appear very comfortable around each other. I hate it when bitches are sad. They end up crying and shit.

I give them both a wicked smile and say, “Anyone who has to piss, come with me.” I turn around and walk toward the side of the gas station’s tiny store where the bathroom is. I don’t get far when Alexandra rushes up beside me. The faint scent of perfume wafts off of her, infiltrating my nose. It smells kind of like roses. Not too strong and fairly pleasant. You know, for a chick’s perfume.

“Hey, Trigger,” Ian says from behind me. I stop immediately. He never uses that stupid fucking nickname unless he’s trying to piss me off. Turning around, I give Ian a flat stare.

“Yeah?” I say. Ian’s frame is tight, and his hands are on his hips. Something’s pissed him off. But then, he’s been in one hell of a mood since we left Mendocino County. He doesn’t talk about it, but I know he has some fucked-up memories of Mancuso. Back when we were kids and my dad started hooking up with his mom, he used to have nightmares about how he got the scar that run from the tip of his left ear up to his eyebrow. He may be one disturbed bastard, but he couldn’t be more my brother than if the same blood ran through our veins. I hate that this shit is so fucking personal for him.

“Where are you going with the kid?” he asks. I shoot Alexandra a look, wondering what the difference is between him and me that he sees her as a kid. Then I remember that important little biological connection. By the time Ruby was pregnant with Alexandra and her twin brother Michael, Ian was old enough to know what was going on. My gut twists at the realization.