Page 50 of Ride to Nowhere

His growl vibrates against my skin, low and feral, before his tongue finds me again—hot, relentless, working me until my thighs tremble around his shoulders. The pleasure builds slowly and deep from each touch.

When he finally rises over me, he takes me to bed, eyes dark with that obsessive fire I’ve come to crave. He slides his cock into me in one thrust that makes me forget the pain. We move together—raw, possessive. My fingers dig into his back as he grips my hips firm but carefully. He fills me slow and deep, like a promise and a punishment all in one, every thrust claiming me deeper, as if he can brand himself into my soul. I come, gasping his name, shattering around him, and he follows with a guttural groan, spilling into me, hips grinding against mine until the last pulse fades.

After, we stay tangled. Sweaty and spent. I trace my initials on his ribs with a lazy fingertip. He holds me like the world might try to take me again. For a long moment, neither of us moves. Just breathing, hearts hammering against each other, the scent of sex and oil thick in the air. Then he shifts, sliding out of me with a reluctant hiss. Before I can protest the loss, he scoops me up—effortless, like I weigh nothing—cradling me against his chest. My legs drape over his arm, slickness trailing down my thighs, but he doesn’t care.

“Stay,” he orders softly, voice gravel-rough, before disappearing into the bathroom.

I hear water running and a minute later, he returns fully naked, steam curling behind him like smoke. When he comes back, he carefully lifts me into his arms, cradling me to his chest. Climbing into the shower, he puts me down before cleaning me. He gently washes and conditions my hair, before soaping up every inch of my body so that I am clean from the day. He rinses me, then he quickly washes himself, too.

Once we are done, he grabs the towel from the counter and thoroughly, reverently, dries me until I’m warm and boneless under his hands. Taking me back to bed, he helps me put on clothes then pulls the covers up around me, tucking me in like I’m a secret he’s hiding from the rest of the world. He slides in behind me, pulling my back flush to his chest, one arm banded around my waist, the other sliding under my pillow. His breath ghosts my neck, lips brushing my ear. My eyes grow heavy as sleep slowly wins me over.

Tink’s charred skeleton still smokes in the lot, a ghostly reminder. Thomas rots in the cage. Nicholas plots somewhere in the dark. But the club’s digital walls are iron now. I’ve shown them how to hold the line. The war’s just starting. And this time, I’m not hiding behind anyone’s shadow.

CORBIN

The air in the cage is thick, heavy with the stench of old blood, piss, vomit, and the sharp tang of fresh fear. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting harsh shadows across the concrete floor already stained dark from previous sessions. Thomas dangles in the center like a broken piñata, wrists locked in heavy chains that bite deep into his flesh. His body sways slightly, toes barely scraping the ground. One eye is a swollen, ugly shade of blue and purple from the welcome beating he got for trying to run. This is the motherfucker who wired explosives under Tatum’s bike. I fucking know it. The little fucking rat doesn’t get a quick death. We’re gonna have some fun first.

I stand in the doorway for a long moment, letting him stew in silence. My cut feels tight across my shoulders, muscles coiled from the rage that’s been simmering since I pulled Tatum’s broken body off the gravel. She’s upstairs now, finally asleep after I bathed the grit and smoke from her skin, tucked her into my bed like she belonged there—because she fucking does. I slipped out once her breathing evened, leaving her safe under member watch.

Fuse leans against the far wall, arms crossed. “He’s dropped a few names already. Not enough. Make it count, Switch.”

Lennox stands rigid beside him, fists clenched at his sides, eyes burning with the same fury I feel. Judge, Diesel, Ledger, and a handful of others form a loose ring near the tool bench, shifting their weight, muttering low curses. No one’s standing like statues—this is club business, but it’s personal for every man here. Thomas didn’t just fuck with Tatum; he played all of us. I roll my sleeves up slowly, exposing forearms already marked with old scars from deployments and fights.

Thomas tries to sneer. “You think this scares me? Redline’s coming. Nick wants his little bitch⁠—”

My fist crashes into his mouth before he finishes. Teeth crack. Blood sprays across my knuckles. I grab a fistful of his hair and yank his head back. “You don’t get to talk about her.”

I turn to the table and see what Lennox has decided we should play with today. Wire snips. Scalpel. Hunting knife. Blowtorch. Razor wire. A small vise. Acetylene torch for the delicate work. Everything’s clean, sharp, and ready. It’s a fucking symphony of pain. Damn, he’s pissed. A grim smile tugs at my mouth.

“Get him down,” I grunt out.

They throw him down hard in a chair, clamping heavy iron cuffs to keep his arms and legs secured. He has no idea the world of hurt he is about to experience. I used to waterboard enemies for information—now, I get better instruments to do it with.

I start with his hands, grabbing the wire snips. I know the pinpoint pressure and sharp edge will make him wish his hands were slammed against hot stove eyes instead. The same hands that planted the device that nearly killed her are the first to go. I clamp the wire snips around his left pinky and squeeze, not asking anything at first. I want to see the sweat bead on his forehead. The bone gives with a sharp crack. Thomas screams, high-pitched and animalistic. I twist slowly, feeling the joint give way. Blood wells up immediately, dripping onto the floor.

“Redline’s expansion plans—what do they want with Iron Wraiths’ land?” I ask, voice low and steady. “Start talking.”

He gasps, sobbing. “Fuck you⁠—”

I shrug. “Have it your way then, you son of a bitch.”

Next finger. Middle this time. I crush the knuckle, grinding the snips until cartilage tears audibly. His scream echoes off the walls. I move methodically—ring finger, then pointer—each snap accompanied by fresh howls. Diesel mutters a low, “Fuckin’ rat” behind me. Ledger spits on the floor. By the time I reach his thumb, he’s singing like a fucking canary, words spilling out between broken sobs.

“Eric’s old network! E left backdoors…contacts in the sheriff’s office. Truckers on the east routes. Redline’s been pushing Molly—product, guns, girls—testing borders for months. Still are. They want this territory. The compound, the runs, everything. I fed them schedules, patrol patterns, member backgrounds…”

I listen while I work, committing every detail to memory. Flashbacks hit me—Tatum thrown across the lot, flames licking the sky, her coughing smoke as I reached her.

“Redline went down. We all saw it and Tatum did it. How the fuck did they find out?”

He grins manically. “Me. Nobody knew who took them down and couldn't figure it out for the life of us. Everyone thought it was E til you forced it to church. The moment I heard it, I went right back, and Ray and Nick put it all together.”

Lennox steps forward, voice like gravel. “You were already pledging here. This had nothing to do with her? You were always coming for us…” Venom drips from every word.

Fuse nods sharply beside him, eyes narrowed. All Thomas can do is nod weakly, head lolling. We all got played. She saved us, and we condemned her before she ever had a chance. The thought fuels the fire in my veins. I heat a knife with the blowtorch as Fuse lifts Thomas’s shirt for me. I press the glowing knife flat against his rib cage. Skin sizzles and blackens instantly. The smell of charred meat fills the room, thick and nauseating. Thomas thrashes violently, chains rattling, fresh tears of blood running from his wrists as the metal cuts deeper.

“More,” I demand, pressing harder until the ink bubbles away. “Who they’re paying. Timelines. Next moves.”

He breaks further, words tumbling out between screams: specific warehouses, bribe amounts, how they planned to use the chaos from his leaks to flood our area with product, how Eric’s lingering alliances were the key they were still exploiting even now.