Broken (Motorcycle Club Romance): Ryder and Sawyer 1 (Fallen Idols Motorcycle Club Book 3) by Savannah Rylan Page A
Authors: Savannah Rylan
Ads: Link
drug possession with the intent to sell.”
Mr. Goatee held up his hands. “I don’t have any on me.”
A devilish smile settled on my face. “Are you sure about that?” This was Idol’s territory, which meant the cops in this town, or at least one faithful one, was on their payroll, not Las Almas.
He scratched at the hair on his face. “She’s a feisty one, isn’t she, gringo?” he said to Cruz, boiling my blood.
“What did you call him?”
His dark gaze raked over me like an animal sizing up its prey. “You get pretty when you’re mad,” he said, licking his lips, and making me want to vomit on his cheap ass boots.
I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew his type: a misogynist pig that expected women to bow down to him. Cower in terror. That’s what Las Almas was all about. Beating their old ladies and treating them like objects to fuck, instead of people. That’s the only thing I’d give to the Fallen Idols. They were good to their girls. They didn’t tolerate that other shit.
Another motorcycle echoed in the distance, and the guy who’d hung back called to his overzealous friend. “Ese, let’s go.”
The slimebag didn’t take his eyes off of me as he backed down my driveway. I didn’t waver. I would never let him think that he scared me. I didn’t break my stone cold stare until they were no more than a speck in the rising sun.
Once they were out of sight, I turned to Cruz. “What the fuck was that about?” I pointed to the street where those two enemies were just parked.
“I told you, I was giving directions.”
“Don’t bullshit me. You stay away from them. You hear me?”
He pushed passed me. “You’ve been back for what? A day? Two? And you think you can tell me what to do? I don’t think so.”
I knew he was mad at me for leaving. Everybody was. “Just because I left, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. You are my brother. And those guys are bad news. I already lost Dad to a jail cell. I’m not going to lose you too. Or worse...” I couldn’t even say it. Thinking of my seventeen-year-old brother six feet under, ripped deep in my gut, and scared the shit out of me.
I looked over at Cruz. The man he just was, standing tall talking to Las Almas, turned into the twelve year old boy I remembered. His dark eyes clouded with sadness, but with one single blink, he was gone again. “I’ve been taking care of myself long enough. I don’t need you to tell me how to survive.”
Cruz stormed off, and slammed the front door.
Welcome home, Sawyer.
TWO
RYDER
Sawyer had been back for two days, and I had yet to see her, but that didn’t keep her from fucking with my head. So, like a pathetic goddamned loser, I drove by her house in hopes of catching a glimpse of her. I didn’t even know what I would do if I saw her. I just couldn’t stay away, knowing she was so close.
I hated her guts for leaving me. For disappearing into the night without a single shred of evidence as to where she was going. Still, a part of me didn’t hate Sawyer at all. That part was a dark and empty place, but it was there, and it missed the hell out of her.
I parked my bike down the street, and looked at the house that used to be like a second home to me. Now, it was a reminder of Sawyer’s betrayal, and the black hole that I spiraled into when she left. If it weren’t for the club, I’d probably be dead in a ditch somewhere. Then again, I had a feeling the club was the reason Sawyer left me to begin with. The MC destroyed me, and yet saved me; talk about a fucked up double-edged sword.
The front door opened. Even through the dark night, I could make out every beautiful inch of Sawyer. Her long legs were bare in a tiny pair of shorts, and I imagined them wrapped around me, her foot digging into my ass, urging me deeper. Her blonde hair fell loose around her face, and I yearned to tuck it back into place behind her ear. God, I was a fucking pussy!
One look at her, and I was a
Mr. Goatee held up his hands. “I don’t have any on me.”
A devilish smile settled on my face. “Are you sure about that?” This was Idol’s territory, which meant the cops in this town, or at least one faithful one, was on their payroll, not Las Almas.
He scratched at the hair on his face. “She’s a feisty one, isn’t she, gringo?” he said to Cruz, boiling my blood.
“What did you call him?”
His dark gaze raked over me like an animal sizing up its prey. “You get pretty when you’re mad,” he said, licking his lips, and making me want to vomit on his cheap ass boots.
I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew his type: a misogynist pig that expected women to bow down to him. Cower in terror. That’s what Las Almas was all about. Beating their old ladies and treating them like objects to fuck, instead of people. That’s the only thing I’d give to the Fallen Idols. They were good to their girls. They didn’t tolerate that other shit.
Another motorcycle echoed in the distance, and the guy who’d hung back called to his overzealous friend. “Ese, let’s go.”
The slimebag didn’t take his eyes off of me as he backed down my driveway. I didn’t waver. I would never let him think that he scared me. I didn’t break my stone cold stare until they were no more than a speck in the rising sun.
Once they were out of sight, I turned to Cruz. “What the fuck was that about?” I pointed to the street where those two enemies were just parked.
“I told you, I was giving directions.”
“Don’t bullshit me. You stay away from them. You hear me?”
He pushed passed me. “You’ve been back for what? A day? Two? And you think you can tell me what to do? I don’t think so.”
I knew he was mad at me for leaving. Everybody was. “Just because I left, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. You are my brother. And those guys are bad news. I already lost Dad to a jail cell. I’m not going to lose you too. Or worse...” I couldn’t even say it. Thinking of my seventeen-year-old brother six feet under, ripped deep in my gut, and scared the shit out of me.
I looked over at Cruz. The man he just was, standing tall talking to Las Almas, turned into the twelve year old boy I remembered. His dark eyes clouded with sadness, but with one single blink, he was gone again. “I’ve been taking care of myself long enough. I don’t need you to tell me how to survive.”
Cruz stormed off, and slammed the front door.
Welcome home, Sawyer.
TWO
RYDER
Sawyer had been back for two days, and I had yet to see her, but that didn’t keep her from fucking with my head. So, like a pathetic goddamned loser, I drove by her house in hopes of catching a glimpse of her. I didn’t even know what I would do if I saw her. I just couldn’t stay away, knowing she was so close.
I hated her guts for leaving me. For disappearing into the night without a single shred of evidence as to where she was going. Still, a part of me didn’t hate Sawyer at all. That part was a dark and empty place, but it was there, and it missed the hell out of her.
I parked my bike down the street, and looked at the house that used to be like a second home to me. Now, it was a reminder of Sawyer’s betrayal, and the black hole that I spiraled into when she left. If it weren’t for the club, I’d probably be dead in a ditch somewhere. Then again, I had a feeling the club was the reason Sawyer left me to begin with. The MC destroyed me, and yet saved me; talk about a fucked up double-edged sword.
The front door opened. Even through the dark night, I could make out every beautiful inch of Sawyer. Her long legs were bare in a tiny pair of shorts, and I imagined them wrapped around me, her foot digging into my ass, urging me deeper. Her blonde hair fell loose around her face, and I yearned to tuck it back into place behind her ear. God, I was a fucking pussy!
One look at her, and I was a
Similar Books
