Page 113 of Ridin’ Dirty

Two days.

After two full days of hiding out in the mountains with Riley and Reaper, it felt like we were leaving as more than who we were when we arrived. We were leaving as a family—the Wells family.

To anyone else, it may have seemed implausible; but we’d been moving at the speed of light since the beginning. I wasn’t sure we knew how to exist any other way. Now, it didn’t merely feel like we were loading up his Road King to head home after a long weekend. The destination might have been accurate, but the intention was different, our foundation as solid as it had ever been.

I was in love with him; and unlike in the past, I didn’t feel anxious about telling him. It wasn’t a secret I was keeping or a longing I was protecting from the harshness of reality. I knew the words would come out when they were supposed to. Until then, I had the memories of this weekend to hold onto—a reminder that he chose me.

Over and over again, he kept choosing me.

And the baggage we were leaving behind prove it.

No more secrets. No more Cherry. Just us.

“Traffic’s gonna be shit. We should get goin’,” insisted Pistol as he finished securing Reaper in her sidecar. “You ready?”

Slipping my fingertips into the back pockets of my jeans, I took one last look at the house. It felt silly, mostly because it was an uncharacteristically sentimental thought, but I hoped we’d come back one day to our romantic honeymoon hideaway.

“Hey,” Pistol muttered, now standing at my side.

He wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, giving me a gentle squeeze, and I turned to look up at him with a smile.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” I murmured.

I felt the flinch of his fingers against my skin as his eyes danced around my face. He then leaned down and pressed a light kiss against my lips before he replied, “Let’s ride, angel.”

I nodded and he let me go, moving to mount his hog. I was quick to follow.

He started the engine, I wrapped my arms around him, and we took off—racing toward forever.

One Week Later

It had been a month, almost to the day, since I exited the diner and saw something that would change the trajectory of my whole life. In spite of the whirlwind nature of it, my home life was better than it ever was. Riley and I were figuring out what it meant to be a married couple. And as far as anyone could tell, his crime couldn’t be pinned on him.

Fang was missing. Without a body, there was no evidence of murder. Even though Riley was questioned more than once, given his history with the Cooper King, there wasn’t enough to arrest him; and he was smart enough, or maybe cocky enough, to live his life not as one under suspicion always looking over his shoulder, but as the free man he believed himself to be.

Yet, even though the cops didn’t have the evidence they needed to keep a close eye on the club without earning a harassment complaint, the Kings were stirring up enough trouble for all of us to be on alert. It was getting worse as the days since Fang’s disappearance increased. Now, Carmine wasn’t the only King I had to worry about during one of my shifts. In fact, I hadn’t seen him since our last run in a couple weeks ago. But his brothers were showing up as if taking shifts of their own.

Viv was still holding steady, refusing to turn away paying customers, regardless of the kuttes they wore. So long as they weren’t driving away other guests, they were welcome. We all knew it wasn’t about the money. She ran a solid business, and there would always be butts in seats with the menu she curated. It was about building community. It was about common ground, respect, and standing up for peace.

But as the days wore on, they were on the verge of testing everyone’s patience.

Tonight, three of them were occupying a booth in Max’s section. They’d been there for hours. Maxine was taking it in stride, but I didn’t like it. While Viv didn’t say the words, I knew she was practicing caution as well. It was almost closing time on a Tuesday night. Usually, she let Will handle locking up during the week. The fact that she was still around meant she was in mama bear mode.

The diner nearly empty, Max and I were working side-by-side, restocking napkins and swapping condiment bottles. It was usually a job meant for the last server standing, but like Viv, I didn’t feel right leaving yet.

“Yo, Max—come ‘ere, princess,” called one of the Kings.

I frowned at my friend, silently expressing how much I disliked the familiarity of his tone. She just rolled her eyes and sighed, “I’ll be right back.”

I watched her go then moved a table closer, wanting to be nearby in case she needed backup.

“You do know the kitchen’s closed, right? You paid your tab, what else can I do for you?”

“I can think of a few things,” drawled one, his tone sopping in innuendo.

“Why don’t you give us a little show? Walk toward the door and back again real slow,” suggested another.

I straightened then, brazenly eyeing down the men at the table, ready to jump into the conversation. While each of them possessed a certain level of intimidation, simply on account of the patches on their backs, only one of them looked legitimately threatening. That’s not to imply I wanted to go to blows with any of them, but I could toss some words.