Born to Ride_A Clubhouse Collection

chapter 15 ~ Ryder

“You look like a sack of shit man,” Cobra said, his eyes beaming.

“And you look like a girl,” I grinned, “wrapped in all those f*cking bandages. What’s all this shit keeping you alive?” I gestured toward all the machines he was hooked up to. “Grow some f*cking balls, man.” Even though I was kidding with him, I was shocked at how much weight he’d lost and how frail he looked lying in the hospital bed.

Cobra held his side. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

“Yeah, well white’s not your color. I’ve never seen you wear anything else than black. You look like shit.” I wanted to pick him up and carry him out of there—take him back to where he belonged.

“Well you look like prince f*cking charming without your cut. A fancy boy, dressed in a proper shirt. I’d say you’re the one who lost his balls.”

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your f*cking sense of humor, brother. Guess it’s a good sign that you can still insult me, like always. Means you’re getting better. And I can kick your ass again sometime soon.”

“It’ll be weeks before they let me out. All the f*cking shrapnel they had to dig out—”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with your brain. We can talk . . . business.”

Concern flickered in his eyes. “How’s Mia? And the kids?”

“She’s good Cobra. So is Isabella and James. They miss you, though.”

“How’s Mia taking what went down? Losing the baby?”

“She’s a woman. You know what bitches are like. All tough the one minute, then a heap of tears the next. But, I’m taking good care of her. I promise.”

“I want to see her, Ryder. See with my own eyes that she’s OK.”

“Right now, you can't. But as soon as she’s strong enough to visit, I’ll make a plan. OK?” He wasn’t happy with my suggestion, but he nodded his head.

He looked worn down. For the first time since I’d known him, he looked older than his age. Dark circles under his eyes and deep frown lines changed the highly strung, but proud man I’d always known, into a pathetic looking creature.

“Tell her I'm really sorry.” His voice cracked.

He lay back, closing his eyes. The machines keeping Cobra alive sounded even louder in the thick silence that fell between us.

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes. “Yeah, about talking—I've had a lot of time to think while I’ve been tied up here. Listen, shithead. I want you to promise me something?”

“Yeah? What?” Cobra knew I’d do anything for him. He just had to name it.

“Promise me that if I cark it, you will take up the gavel.” His voice was strained.

“Don't you f*cking croak on me, motherf*cker.” My insides churned at the thought of losing Cobra. I wouldn’t let him die on me—or Mia and the kids—not if I had any say in it.

“I'm f*cking serious, Ryder.” His breathing was labored. The man was exhausted just from talking. F*ck.

“Cobra. Focus on getting better, man. We’ll worry about passing the gavel when you're six foot under. Not before.”

“The shooting has changed everything. F*ck, for a minute there I saw my whole f*cking life flash by. There’s nothing like death staring you down, to make you think about living—and dying.”


“You're too young to snuff it,” I protested.

“We’re all gonna die.”

“Yeah. I just don't want to talk about it.”

“You haven’t promised me yet.”

“Jesus, you're a persistent f*ck. I can't take the gavel.”

“Why not?”

“Razor. It should be his.”

“Ryder. You’re my brother as much as Razor is. I choose you.”

“I know. And I’m grateful you think that much of me. But Razor—”

“Razor is a f*cking hothead. He’s not prez material. You and I know that.”

“It’ll be anarchy at the club. Some of the originals and the crew will back Razor. Right now we have enough shit with the Demon f*ckers.”

A nurse came in to measure Cobra’s blood pressure. We fell silent for a while, lost in our thoughts.

The nurse broke the silence. “Mr. Malone looks tired. I suggest you let him rest now.”

“Yeah. Sure.” I nodded. We still had a shitload of club business to talk about, but now was not the time. I'd wait till the man was stronger. I got up to leave.

“Brother,” Cobra said, his eyelids heavy, “I'm trusting you to take care of everything while I’m in this place. You have to go back to the club again and check in on what’s happening there.”

“I'll arrange for Ratbag to come and stake out the house, while I go to check the club. Don't worry, everything’s under control.”

He laughed, a bitter sound. He shook his head slowly. “Wish I believed that. The Demons are just waiting for their chance. They want me dead, Ryder—and you too. Watch your ass, man. Be careful.”

I gripped his hand and squeezed. “Rest brother, I'll be back soon. We’ll talk more then.”

I hadn’t even told him about the cop who was digging for dirt on me, and therefore on him and the club. I didn't want him to worry any more than he already was.

Cobra felt responsible for Mia having a miscarriage after the shootout. That alone weighed heavily on the man. Although he wouldn’t hesitate to take a f*cker’s life, the innocent life of an unborn child was still valued highly by the Scorpio Stinger MC.

We were criminals, not monsters. We killed scum of the earth, not one of our own.

Cobra would never forgive himself; he'd taken full responsibility and would carry it to his grave. Brother had some shit to work out—and a lot of healing to do—not just from the bullet wounds.

Would Mia ever forgive him? Of everything that went down that day, I think that was the one thing Cobra was most worried about. I couldn't blame him.