Born to Ride_A Clubhouse Collection

chapter 11 ~ Ryder

F*ck, it felt good to have the Harley rumble between my legs. Since I’d moved into the house, I didn’t have as much opportunity to ride as I’d liked to. I let the wind sweep through my hair and just breathed in deeply.

This was heaven—my bike and me—out on the open road. It took me away from everything—all my worries and fears faded to nothing. Lost in the moment, nobody could hurt me when I rode my bike.

Things at the club had gone from bad to even worse. A raid by our rival club, the LA Demon Skulls, had gotten Cobra, our Prez, shot at and the poor bastard had been in intensive care for a week now. It was still touch and go whether he would survive. A bullet had lodged in his lung and one narrowly missed his heart, so he was in deep shit.

Cobra was my best friend. In fact, he was probably my only real friend. After the brothers rescued me that fateful day, we formed a bond stronger than any I’d ever experienced with someone that wasn’t blood family. Cobra and I had mixed our blood when we made a pact to always have one another’s backs. Yeah, we may not have been born brothers, but life threw us together and made us family.

Forced to leave my cut at the club, I felt half dressed when I wasn’t wearing it. Strange. I tried to shake the feeling of unease. The things we get attached to.

I couldn’t risk being identified as a member of the Scorpio Stinger MC on the occasions I had to take care of business away from the house. My identity was attached to the club—it was part of who I had become. I couldn’t wait for this shit to be over.

Since the shooting, I didn’t like being away from the house for long periods of time. I was afraid that our enemies would find us and harm the only other family I had—Mia and the kids.

I'd taken the long road from Beverley Hills to Longbeach, stretching out my ride for as long as I could. Finally, I'd reached the Scorpio Stinger MC compound, just ten miles out from Longbeach.

Everything looked exactly as I remembered it. Yet I knew nothing was quite the same after the shooting. On the outside it looked like any other building around the area—slightly run down and in need of a coat of paint. Barbed wire around the perimeter, and bikes out the front, was what differentiated the MC compound from the others.

I squinted my eyes and took note of the bullet holes in the plaster of the familiar signage “Home of The Scorpio Stinger MC. Enter at your own risk.” Our emblem—a gavel, a scorpion and a pair of wings was painted beneath it. My heart swelled with pride.

I'd missed this place that’d been my home since the age of thirteen. As I punched in the code and entered the gates, a few of the crew came out to greet me. I felt like the f*cking prodigal son, even old man Malone had come outside. He limped on his crutch, his smile reaching from ear to ear.

Chopper Malone was the father I’d never had. Tough, mean, but also fair. He treated me as if I was one of his own, bred from his loins. He never favored either Cobra or Razor above me—they respected that. At least that was how it appeared. He’d stepped down two years ago when he’d had a heart attack and major surgery, passing his patch on to Cobra.

It was the proudest moment of my life when Cobra chose me as his VP. Even Razor was OK with it, saying he always knew I’d be the one.

“F*ckers! You must’ve missed me,” I grinned.

“Nah, who’d miss an ugly prick like you?” Razor laughed, patting my back after giving me the routine greeting.

“Place has been heaven since you left. Peace and f*cking quiet,” Ox piped up, hugging me tightly with his huge arms, nearly lifting me off the ground. His pure gold tooth glistened in the sunlight.

Ratbag’s lanky frame shook with laughter. “Get a f*cking room, you two.”

“Time for a beer boys, let’s go to the clubroom. Ox, get all the hangers-on out of there. Only patched brothers.”

Ox nodded, running a hand over his shaved head. He loved getting rid of the people who hung around the bar. He worked as a bouncer for a few nightclubs when he was in the mood to be badass—which was always.

Bigger and taller than any of the boys, Ox was the meanest motherf*cker I'd ever met—covered in tattoos from his toes to his neck. He didn’t suffer fools gladly and had killed as many men as had stood in his way, or had done the club an injustice. The man was ruthless—I was glad Ox was on my team.

Yet Ox fed and saved stray cats. It was people he couldn't stand. He always said that people weren’t to be trusted and that he slept with one eye open—his dagger under his pillow.

By the time I'd had a piss and walked into the club room, only brothers were at the bar. The new bar girl was pouring beer as fast as she could. Watching her for a minute or two, I had the strangest feeling that I'd met her before. Something about her was familiar. I nodded a thanks as she slid an ice cold beer across the bar to me.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“It’s Lexi. I already know yours is Ryder.”

Lexi flashed me a smile, fluttering her eyelashes. She was a pretty girl with her pitch black hair and striking blue eyes. The full-sleeved, coloured tattoo on her left arm depicted cartoons and I was tempted to take a step closer to read them.

Max and I had always read cartoons till late into the night, pretending we didn’t hear the noises Marianne was making with her man of the night.

A typical biker-slash-rocker chick, Lexi wore a multitude of chains, and a black mini skirt, exposing long muscled legs that looked as if they would be strong enough to ride a cock for hours in the reverse cowboy position.

But I wasn’t here to think about screwing the new bar chick. There was urgent business to discuss. And lately a blond woman’s face kept flashing in my mind—usually at the most inappropriate times—annoying the f*ck out of me.

Cobra expected me to run the show in his absence, and I wanted to show him that his trust was well earned.

I rolled my eyes at Ox, indicating that he should get rid of the hot little bitch as soon as everyone had a beer. I didn't need any of the guys to be distracted while we chatted. He nodded his understanding, taking his role as bouncer very seriously.

Ox leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Her eyes widened for a second, then snapped to mine. She licked her lips slowly, seductively, and tilted her head, inviting me to visit her when the meeting was over.

My gaze raked her body, taking in the piercings and tattoos, and her perky tits that were unhampered by a bra. She leaned over, wiping the beer that had spilled on the counter. Either she was f*cking good at her job, or she purposely wanted me to look down her top, to see her tits wobble as she wiped up the mess. Her brown nipples were hard. I bet she wasn’t wearing any panties and that her p-ssy was soaked.

Jesus. This bitch was begging me to f*ck her, giving it to me on a silver platter. I'd deal with her later. Now it was time for club business.

I cleared my throat and Ox took her by the arm and led her to the door.

Lexi turned back to look at me. “Hope to see you soon,” she mouthed and blew me a kiss. F*ck, she was hot as hell. I stared at her, still perplexed by where I’d seen her before. Surely if I'd f*cked that p-ssy, I'd remember her?


“Lexi has the hots for you, Ryder,” Ox said after he’d locked the door and came to stand beside me. “She’s primed and ready, waiting to be f*cked hard.” He wiggled his eyebrows. I looked down to Ox’s crotch. Sure as hell, he had a boner. Ox really liked that piece of ass. I'd never seen him so taken with a girl before.

Razor slapped me on the back. “Better make this meeting quick. Bitch is waiting to get f*cked, brother. Wouldn’t mind a piece of that ass myself. Let me know if you want help?”

Ox growled at Razor. He didn't like that Razor was interested. Maybe Ox wanted her for himself? Just a few weeks away from the club and already I wasn’t sure what the dynamics were between the boys.

“Brothers,” I said, taking a seat and a long sip of my beer—it hit just the right spot.

All eyes were on me as I informed them that I was going to visit Cobra soon, and explained that it would be a while before he was back at the helm; assuring them that the next time I visited, Cobra and I would’ve worked a plan to get out of the mess the club was currently in. I warned them to be vigilant and to cover one another’s backs. I closed by asking them to support Razor as the leader in our absence.

“Razor, you and I need to talk, then I need to get back to LA.”