Ryder's Last Run (Dueling Dragons MC Series) (8 page)

****

Ryder

Tonight was
my first official fight for the fucking Russians. I fucked that dude up pretty bad. He got a few good shots in but I’m not the one who’s going to be pissing blood for the next week. I saw a few of the brothers at the fight. Still a little pissed off that they didn’t do anything.

Adrenaline is blasting through my veins just thinking about
the fight. All I can think about while I lie on this fucking shitty cot is how good it felt to really lay into someone. I let out a lot of the anger I’ve been holding in and, when I heard someone yell “think of your father,” I fucking let go.

****

“Think of your father, Ghost!” I hear it from the crowd and that’s what I needed to get this shit started in the right way. This slimy looking fuck has gotten a few good hits into my jaw and a few into my ribs. Bringing my fists up to chin level, I bounce back a little bit and bob to the right to avoid his fist making contact with my chin again. “Now, Ghost. Let go!”

Those words
push me over the last bit of edge and its like I lose all rational thoughts. Before I know it my right fist connects with his nose; the blood starts to dump from the area. Grunting in pain he grabs his nose. Moving forward, I kick at his ribs and lower stomach. He starts to bend at the knees and I know I have him right where I want him.

“Finish him! Finish him!” I hear the crowd start to cheer and
Avenged Sevenfold – Hail to the King
blasts through the speakers. Fuck yeah, I want to amp up the crowd a little bit more, I like this shit, never really liked attention before. But if every fight is like this I could dig this shit.

I start to walk around the stage a little bit
, pumping my fists in the air and that’s when I see him. I connect eyes with my best friend, my brother. Ziggy is standing there in full leathers with a dumbfounded look on his face. I stop and wipe the blood from my eyes to make sure that I’m seeing what I think I am. Standing about 20 feet from the ring are Zig, Flem, Tank, and Fat Boy. Flem is the first one to say something, “What the fuck?” I hear him say over all the cheering in the tent but I can’t make out what the others are saying to him. They all drop their beer bottles and walk out.
What the fuck was that about?

Fuck it
. I don’t have time to worry about this shit. Walking over to the punk on the other side of the ring, I reach around his neck and bring his face down on my knee, busting his nose wide open. I’ve gone off the deep end. I slam the guy’s face against my knee again. As I let go of his head, he leans forward and spits out blood and teeth. Fuck, I knocked out a few teeth.

I walk back over to the crowd and rile them up a little bit more. Walking back over to th
e struggling limp dick that was supposed to be this amazing MMA fighter, I kick him hard enough in the ribs that I feel at least four of them break under my blow. Dropping to the floor, he holds his mid-section and I kick again, this time not only in his stomach but also in his face. I kicked him until he passes out from either the loss of blood or the pain. The ref finally grabs me around the waist and pulls me back. “All right, all right. Break it up! Fight is over!”

****

The cell door opens and in steps the head Russian.

“Al
l right, you fuck. I’ve been here for about a week now. I haven’t talked to my ol’ lady or any of my boys. I know that someone is going to come looking for me. You do understand that I am the MC’s Vice Prez now, right? So why don’t we start with who the fuck are you?” I don’t know why I never thought of asking before.

He laughs.
“Well, well. I’m so impressed that I’m thinking about making you the closing fighter for me permanently. How does this sound to you?”

Am I seriously considering doing this
? What am I thinking? I have my boys to get home to and I have my ol’ lady. But is she really going to want me after she sees what I’ve become? I love fighting, but I also love my girl.

Fuck.
I growl and look at the ugly Russian fuck standing in front of me. “If I’m going to continue to fight for you, I need to know who I’m fighting for.”

“All these years you have drove for your precious club and you never thought to ask the name of your employer. I figured you were smarter than that
, Ryder.”

If this fuck wasn’t the highest member of this chain of the Russian Family
, I would beat him to a pulp. With the adrenaline running through my veins, I could kill him easily and not give a fuck.

“Just fucking tell me. I am not in the mood.”
I push myself off the cot. He steps back and pulls a lighter from his pocket.

“Smoke?”

I shake my head and start to pace the room to help calm my nerves.

“
The name is Antoniy Manakov. But you can call me Mr. Manakov.” The name rings a bell. I just can’t seem to put my finger on it.

I can’t believe it
, but I am actually considering fighting for him on a regular basis, depending on what the stakes are. If it gets me back to my boys and my woman earlier and quicker, at this point I will do anything. “So. What does fighting for you full time entail?”

“It entails more than you will ever realize or dream of. Just stick with me and things will work themselves out perfectly.” He grins an actually toothy smile and adds, “Do this and I will leave your women alone.” Then he lights up his cigar again, takes a couple of puffs, turns and leaves.

Fuck, what have I done
? At least I ensured that he won’t do anything to Layla or Faith.

Ziggy

Last night was the worst night of my life. I kicked the chick that I
’ve been fuckin’ for the last few years out of my life and I watched my best friend’s life shatter before me.

“Well, I think you need to fuck off for the night Rogue. I need to call Ryder’s sister and ol’ lady and let them know what the fuck is going on.” Exhaling I run my hands through my hair. He stands up and grabs his cut and slings it on and out the door he goes. I love the fact that my bros know when I say to fuck off they actually listen.

I walk over to the little fridge on the counter in my shitty little studio connected to the clubhouse; this place smells l
ike pot, sex and cigarettes. I grab a beer and prepare for the two hardest phone calls I’ve ever had to make.

Layla pick
s up on the second ring. Talking on the phone is always sketchy so we use code words and just watch what we say. Less is more, right? She, of course, goes all buck-wild on me over the phone as I try to explain. Now, I have to calm this crazy Italian woman down. Ryder is like her in so many ways it’s not even funny.

“All I
’m going to tell you is see you in a week or so. Get shit sorted in Kentucky and get your ass down here. Your momma wants to see you and your son is here.” She starts talking so goddamn fast that the only thing I can do is spit out an ‘all right, Layla’ and hang up. Now, I have to call my best friend and brother’s old lady and tell her that her man is off his goddamn rocker and seems to be working for the Russians.

What am I going to do? We took the oath that no woman or kids
would be involved in club business. But fuck, Faith wasn’t bred for this shit; she was bred to be with some dipshit square. I don’t understand how Ryder always gets the keepers and I’m stuck with the fucking psychos.

I take a big pull off my beer and l
ie back on my bed, preparing to hear a woman’s heart break over the phone. I slide my thumb across the screen and pull up my contacts. Finding Faith’s number, I push call. I hear the phone ring once and then twice.

“Ziggy, please tell me you have some good news.” God, this shit is going to be worse than I thought
. Better just cut to the point.

“No, I
’m, sorry, sweets, I don’t. But I just wanted to let you know that we know where he is.” I hear her inhale sharply, “But we are working and getting other information.”

I hear the phone drop
. I call for her to pick it up. A few seconds later, I hear someone in the background saying her name; it’s probably her brother.

“H
ello? Can someone pick up the fucking phone?” I yell into the phone.

“Yeah, hello?” I hear a scratching sound in the background. “Hello? Ziggy? Is that your name?”
A booming deep voice comes across the phone.

“Yeah, who’s this?” He tells me his name is Will
. Faith has passed out, so I tell him about Ryder, trying not to give too much detail into the club’s activities. I trust Faith as much as I trust any bitch.

****

I wake up a few hours later to a text. It’s from Prez.

See U @ church 7pm

He’s going to want an update on what the hell we saw last night. That was some shit. I’ve known Ryder since we were in third grade. We became fast friends and we are still by each other’s sides. That’s why I don’t believe that he’s working for the Russians like Flem seems to think. There is something going on inside this club, though. Ryder and I haven’t been around for a few months, but it doesn’t feel like it did when we were here to finalize the plans for this run. Shit has shifted around here; I’m not sure what it is, but I plan to find out.
What the fuck is going on?

Seven o’clock finally rolls around and all of the Knights and officers are sitting in the church room. The prospects
stand outside the doors to make sure that church is not interrupted for any reason. Prez picks up the gavel and starts to tap it on the table. These cocksuckers aren’t paying any attention.

Deacon stands up and walks over to Fat Boy and Tank
, smacking them both in the back of the head. “Shut the fuck up. Church is in session. Respect, fuck face. Respect.”

Rogue clears his throat and I see Deacon stop mid
-display of badassness and walk back over to his seat and sit down. What the fuck is that about?

This time I hear and feel the gavel hit the table and the room finally quiets down and everyone focuses on the Prez.

“I am calling to order the church meeting of the Dueling Dragons - Yuma chapter. Officers are present and so are the Knights of the Dragons. Everyone that agrees to this meeting say aye after me.” He says aye and we all repeat. “This meeting has been brought forward in regards to our VP, who is missing at the moment. It has been brought to my attention that a few of you did attended a fight in the desert and our VP was there.” 

He looks around the table at us
. No one steps forward to say anything. I just fucking know he is going to ask me if I don’t speak up.

“Yes,
we did go to the fight. I will tell you, Prez. Ryder is one of my best fucking friends and I don’t give a shit what any of you say. I know that he would never turn his back on us and work for the Russians of all people.” Everyone looks at me. “Come on, you load of fuck sticks. Think about it. Ryder’s old man was the VP of this club for how many years? Flem, you grew up with us. You know that Ryder would never do anything like that. I put my cut on it.”

The guys all turn to look at the Prez as if they
’re looking at the next world leader. But what you have to realize is that when you take that oath, when you vow to stand behind your MC and all the members in it and their families, if you step back on that word, it is straight to ground. That shit is taken seriously around here.

“I agree with you
, Ziggy. I’ve known Ryder since the day he dripped out of his daddy’s nut sack. That boy would never do that to us or to his father’s name. Too much pride in that boy.” Prez says to me.

If only the Prez knew that his words were so fucking dead on that it wasn’t even funny. Last night, watching Ryder run around that ring like a madman
, it was just plain fucking crazy.

“So, boy. How do you suppose we go about getting Ryder back?”

“We could watch how Ryder does in the next couple of fights, and then go from there? I don’t think we should act too fast because that will draw too much attention to us. We can’t back that at this short of a notice,” Rogue says in his calm, accented voice. “You know that Ryder saw us there. I’m sure he isn’t going to do anything stupid. He knows that we will get him home somehow.”

“Yeah, I think Rogue is on the right path here
, boys. Let’s play it out and see what happens.” Prez looks around the room. “All those in favor, say aye.” In unison, the room echoes aye and the gavel hits the table. “Ziggy, while this shit is going down, I want you to lay low. You are not to go anywhere close to the Russians or those fights. You hear me?”

“Yes
, sir. I will get fucking lost somewhere. If you can’t find me in a few days, you can bet that I’m balls deep in some pussy.” I smile and leave the room.

“You are one sick bastard
, Zig,” I hear one of my brothers say as we all go our separate ways after church.

I have some time to cool off and figure shit out
. I’ll keep my word to Ryder and ride out to Alabama and check on Faith. Maybe I’ll take the long way and just get some time by myself. Alone time. Yeah, that’s what I need.