Authors: JC Emery

Ride (Bayonet Scars) (25 page)

“Keep hitting me,” I say as loud as I can, but it comes out as a mumble. My jaw isn’t quite working right. I’m slurring words, and my tongue keeps getting in the way. “I won’t hurt them.”

Michael’s smooth hands wrap around my neck, squeezing so hard I lose sense of place and time. “Tell me where they are!” he screams into my face.

But then a second later, they’re gone, and he’s gone. A loud crash sounds across the room. A figure kneels in front of me, and a sharp blade closes in on my skin. Shouting ensues with so many voice
s going at once, I can’t even make out who’s who or how many of them there are. Internally, I panic at the very real possibility of being sliced up just like Tegan. Only, the blade yanks and pulls at my rope binding, and suddenly I’m free. My body slumps into the one crouching in front of me. Strong arms reach out, holding me. And it only takes a moment to know from his scent and his touch, that it’s Ryan.

“I got you, baby,” he whispers in my ear.

“My brother,” I cry out.

Holding me close, he says, “He’s alive.”

It’s not much, but it’s something—the best I can hope for. I have no right to ask them not to kill him, even if I want to. With one arm beneath my knees and one supporting my back, he scoops me up. Moving into a standing position, he walks us out of the room, though to where, I can’t tell. As he walks us to safety, he whispers his apologies in a strangled voice. “I’m so sorry, baby. Please be okay. Please be okay.”

But they’re not the words I want to hear, so I tell him. Or I try to. Through the steady thumping of my heartbeat in my ears, I can’t make out much else besides his voice. With a raspy voice, I mumble, “Are you done fighting it?”

“I’m done, Cub,” he says without hesitation. “Let’s not make a big deal of it, but I love you, too.” It feels good to hear it even if I knew it already. It’s just a little confirmation that he’s willing to go to the mat for me—for us. And once I’m healed up and I can think clearly, we’ll get this mess sorted out with the club. Once everything settles down, I’m going to dig into his commitment issues. Because I’m determined to make this work with him.

As we slide into the back of a SUV, someone else crawls in to our right. Panic swells in my chest at the arrival of another person until I hear the deep, familiar voice. “It’s just me, Princess,” Duke says. Ian slides in to our left, also confirming his presence. The SUV fills with men I can’t identify.

“You’re okay, kid,” Jim says, his voice breaking in-between words. Ryan’s hand reaches out for mine and he slips his pinky around mine. And for the first time, despite the mild confusion and inexplicable pain, I do feel like I’m okay. More than okay, I feel protected, and whole.

“It’s just a scratch,” I say in a slur. The men around me laugh, all except for Ryan. He remains perfectly still and solid beneath me. I let myself drift off despite Ryan’s attempts to keep me awake. Lost in thought, I think back to all the ways my life has changed these last few months. I’m not that same girl I was back in Brooklyn. I’m braver, stronger, and maybe even a little less co-dependent. But more importantly, I belong somewhere—to someone.

They came in leather and jeans, whisking me away from everything I knew—everything that was about to get me killed—all of the Armani, and bullets, and death. They made me one of them, a part of a family in a way I never had been before. Beyond gratitude and obligation, I chose them. I chose them because they love me, because they accept me, and maybe because they’re wild and rowdy. Maybe because they brought me to my mother. And I still choose them. They brought me to him, and for that, they’ll always have my loyalty. Because he was my salvation.

Thank you for taking the time to read Ride. I hope that you will take a moment to leave a review for the novel on
Amazon and Goodreads. Positive or negative, your opinion matters.

Acknowledgements

Th
is book was a serious whirlwind that couldn’t have been possible without the incredible people who have stepped up and made this book possible. Books, you’ve once again tolerated and indulged me in the writing and publishing journey. I hate to remind you, but NaNoWriMo is once again upon us. Please, be tolerant. Mandie Jones—I love you, buddy! Thank you for helping out and struggling through the romance! Adrianne, and all my girls at Indie Ignites, thank you for your support. Nazarea Andrews at Inkslinger PR, you pulled some strings and worked your magic getting this book out there—thank you! Rachel Bateman at Metamorphosis Books, thank you for putting up with my comma splices and misplaced modifiers. Your ability to deal with my constant lateness is admirable. Brenda at Gonet Design, you’ve outdone yourself this time. That cover is HOT!

To everyone on my beta team: Kristina Amit, CR DeStasi, Julie Deaton, Danielle Plane, Mindy Smith Stickels, Judy Ruiz
, and Amber Vaughn. Your support and encouragement has been simply amazing. I hope to see each and every one of you along for the ride once we start Thrash. And finally, Dawn Johnson. You started as a reader, who became a friend, who has become one of my most valuable assets in this world. You’re more than a PA, you’re a lifesaver. You’re the one who’s up with me at 3am running through plot twists, dialogue issues, and full-on freak-outs when I’m convinced everyone is going to hate Alex and Ryan.

And finally—
Mom. I’ve tried to figure out how I can thank you for not only giving me life, but believing in my dreams so fully, I’m almost convinced I can achieve them. You are a never-ending source of love, encouragement, and utter ridiculousness. Without you, I couldn’t do what I do every day. I thoroughly enjoyed your company and input along this journey. You know I’m going to need you for Thrash, right? Many women say that their greatest fear is becoming their mother. My greatest fear is
not
becoming my mother. You may not see it, but you are the toughest woman I’ve ever met. You deal with shit that would make other people throw in the towel, and you do it with grace and love. I love you beyond words. You kick some serious ass.

About t
he Author

As a child, JC was fascinated by things that went bump in
the night. As they say, some things never change. Now, as an adult, she divides her time between the sexy law men, mythical creatures, and kick-ass heroines that live inside her head. A San Francisco Bay Area native, JC has also called both Texas and Louisiana home. These days she rocks her flip flops year round in Northern California and can’t imagine a climate more beautiful.

Find JC Emery on the web . . .

http://www.jcemery.wordpress.com
http://twitter.com/jc_emery
http://www.facebook.com/jcemeryauthor
http://www.goodreads.com/jc_emery

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