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I closed my eyes, confused even more. Why had Ryder come here? Why had he left without even trying? Was he finally listening to me? And did I really want him to?

“Fuck, Princess. You’re killing me.” Ryder stood in my doorway, his silhouette in the dark visible by the light of the moon. Was I dreaming?

“Ryder! W . . . what? H . . . how?” I switched on the bedside lamp.

“If you won’t let me in, I’ll let myself in.” He grinned, his gaze raking appreciatively up my semi-naked body. I was wearing only a tee and panties.

“But . . . but the doors are locked . . . and we have alarms . . .” Had Daddy forgotten to lock up?

Ryder chuckled softly. “Babe, nothing will stop me if I want to get in somewhere. Breaking in is an undervalued skill, and definitely one of my many talents.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“Yeah? And did you poison the Rottweiler?” Mom had insisted on having a trained guard dog. It made her feel safer. Bruno was alert and fierce, yet I hadn’t heard him growl or bark as he usually did when strangers came to the house.

“The pup and I are friends. I’m definitely not going to be his breakfast.” He sat on the bed, watching me.

My eyes widened. Bruno was a muscled brute of a dog; he hadn’t been a puppy in five years. How had Ryder gotten past Bruno? He didn't take kindly to strangers.

Princess. You’ve been crying—tell me why.” His voice was hoarse, yet soft.

My throat was still thick, and tears sat just behind my eyelids, ready to spring forth again. I couldn’t speak. I wanted Ryder here more than anything, but I also wanted him to leave, for his own sake. I was so confused.

“Baby,” he said softly as he pulled me to his chest.

God it felt good. And the way he said the word baby, with the slightest dip in his voice as if he were affected too, made it sound sexy and comforting at the same time. My breath hitched—he’d called me baby—not babe, not bitch, not Princess. Just baby. And I loved it.

I let him hold me, let him stroke my back, soothing me while he hummed. This was a side of the tough, badass biker I doubted anyone had ever seen. Was he even aware he was doing it?

“Why did you come?” I whispered, my breath catching as I spoke.

“I’ll tell you . . . if you tell me why you’re crying,” he countered.

I fell silent for a long time, organizing my thoughts. Ryder kept rubbing my back, placing no pressure on me but waiting patiently for me to reply.

At last I spoke. It was as if the floodgates opened. I told him the whole story. Everything.

Ryder listened, only grunting occasionally, his fingers making small circular motions up and down my spine. I inhaled deeply, drawing his scent into my nostrils and basking in his warm embrace. He’d comforted me and lulled me into a relaxed state.

“Um, Ryder?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Now I’ve told you the whole story—why did you come?”

He was quiet for the longest time, but never resting his fingers. “Because I needed to be near you. Because I can never get enough of you. That’s why.”

He shifted down the bed, holding me in his arms. My head rested on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart.

“Sleep baby, I’ll hold you. It’s all OK. That shit happened a long time ago. None of it was your fault. None. You gotta let that go. OK?”

Drowsy, I nodded my head. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Why, I wasn’t sure. All I’d done, was tell Ryder my and Harrison’s story; the story I’d hidden deep inside for so long, trying to bury it. Yet now that I’d set it free, it no longer weighed as heavily on me.

Ryder had done for me what no therapist ever could. He’d gotten me to set the ugly past free. He’d even gotten me to start believing that maybe it wasn’t my fault after all. I sighed as he kissed the crown of my head, a shudder of utter relief running through my body, letting the tension flow away.

“Go to sleep. I’m here now.” His voice was like velvet, soft and soothing. Hypnotic. I drifted off into a peaceful sleep with Ryder holding me, feeling safe and secure.

Pure bliss.

Chapter 11 ~ Ryder

“Are you sure you’re up to this, brother?” I quirked an eyebrow at Cobra who was all dressed except for his cut, ready to go back to the compound for the first time since the shootout.

“Yeah. It’s time to sort out club business. Take my place at the gavel. Work out what we’re going to do.”

Cobra was stubborn. It made him the badass man he was. He never gave up, and he never gave in. OK, except to Mia. And his babies. But never to another man. Tough as fucking nails, he went head-to-head with his enemies.

We made small talk for most of the journey, both of us with our minds wandering elsewhere. So when we fell into a comfortable silence we just let it be, allowing ourselves the small pleasure of being lost in our own thoughts, without interruption.

I was between a rock and a hard place. I was falling for Jade, yet I knew her brother would string me up the first chance he got. Now that I’d finally gotten the story out of her, I wasn’t bitter or vengeful about his motives. Fuck, if that’d happened to me, I would’ve hunted the motherfuckers down and killed them with my bare fucking hands.

A part of me even respected the guy for wanting to protect his little sister. Remembering back to what I was willing to sacrifice to save Max’s life, I understood how Harrison Summers felt about Jade. Fuck, if it weren’t for our pasts, we could probably even have been friends.

But that wouldn’t stop me from putting a bullet in his skull if he threatened my family. Fuck, if he hurt any one of my brothers at the Scorpio Stinger MC I'd have to take him down. It was the code of our brotherhood. It was simply the way it worked, regardless of who the fucker was who tried to take a brother down.

Sighing heavily, I pulled up at the compound, in front of the heavy gates and pressed the button to let us in. While we waited, I couldn’t help noticing how derelict the warehouse was. Our headquarters appeared deserted. Usually there were bikes and people everywhere, but since the shootout, everyone kept cover as much as they could. We’d even built a fucking shed for the bikes so they could be locked up at night, ensuring nobody tampered with them. Yeah, we had to cover all our bases.

The gloomy clubhouse was in desperate need of restoration. Peeling paint and bullet holes in the walls had never bothered me before. I guess I’d been so used to its appearance that it’d seemed normal. Now it was depressing. Maybe it was because I'd been living in the fancy part of town for a while that I’d become aware of the stark contrast. Funny the things we get accustomed to.

This was not the day to help Cobra out of the SUV. Even though he struggled, sweat trickling down his forehead as he contorted his face in agony, I watched him get down the step by himself. Cobra was the pres of Scorpio Stinger MC, for fuck’s sake. He needed to maintain the respect of all the brothers. Show that a few bullets wouldn't stop him.

Suppressing the urge to put my arm around Cobra to support him, I walked to the door to hold it open. But before I could even reach the door, brothers came pouring out into the square to welcome their pres. The place that appeared so desolate moments before was transformed by all the familiar faces. The shouting and whistling startled me; I'd forgotten what a rowdy bunch these guys were.

Backslapping and brother-hugging with roars of laughter was a sure sign that everyone was relieved to have Cobra back at the helm. Yeah, it felt good to be home. I’d missed this place and these faces more than I cared to admit. Here, within these walls, I was just Ryder, a brother, like everyone else. It felt good to belong.