Along for the Ride (Ride or Die Romances)

by Lauren Biel

“I’m ready,” I say, “but I need a guaranteed payout.” “How about several?” I run my hand through my beard and consider this. Multiple close-to-home hits right after getting out of jail? Doesn’t seem smart. “I can do one, but not several. I don’t think it’s a good idea to work too close to home right now.” “I don’t pay you to think,” George says with a dry laugh. He should lay off the cigarettes. “You don’t pay me at all,” I say. “Fair enough, but leave the thinking to me all the same.

“Get dressed in front of me,” he says. “I liked it.” His low, sultry tone shoots straight to my pussy, and my panties would have melted if I had any on. But I shake my head. My compliance has a limit. “You gave Karson shit for being a creep and that is creepy,” I say. He chuckles, but he doesn’t release my wrist. “Then I’m a creep.” I must be a creep too—or at least out of my mind—because I’m seriously considering offering an even trade. We can both get naked and dress in front of each other. Hell, maybe we can dress each other. With our teeth. My vagina and I will need to have a talk later, because she is putting some really shitty ideas in my head. If I know what’s good for me, I’ll move away from him before I accidentally put his dick in my mouth.

“Is this what you’re running from?” His fingers leave my chin, and he engulfs the handprint with his grasp. “Who did this to you?” I look away. “It’s none of your business.” “It is my business when it could affect my business. I should know if it’s someone I need to worry about.” I shiver when I remember Mickey’s promise to find me. To kill me. But Gentry isn’t asking because he’s worried about me; his concern is for himself. If I want to earn his trust, this might not be a bad way to do that. Maybe it won’t hurt to tell him. “It’s my fiancé,” I whisper. His hand drops from my throat and he takes the clothes from my hands and places them on the TV stand. “The only marks that should be on a woman are those made in a moment of pleasure. Did you like it when he wrapped his hand around your throat?” I shake my head. “Then he doesn’t fucking deserve you.” He grips my hand and pulls my ring from my finger. Instead of pocketing it or throwing it across the room, he slides it past his lips and swallows. My eyes widen. “Did you really just do that? You couldn’t toss it away like a normal person?” “I’m the farthest thing from normal, wanderer.” He pauses and shakes his head. “Actually, Karson is probably the farthest, but I’m just behind him.” “Karson didn’t eat my ring,” I mumble.

When the wave recedes, he lifts me from the washer and sets me on shaking legs. I’ve left a large wet spot on the machine, but I don’t care. I’m not ashamed of the proof of what I’ve just experienced. His erection strains against his fly, and I expect him to take me. At this point, I would let him. Instead, he takes the robe tie and fastens it around my waist, concealing my body once more. With a sinful smirk, he looks down at me, and I almost rip off my robe and climb him like a tree. But I take a deep breath and try to remember my morals. The man did abduct me, after all. I let him make me come, but I don’t have to return the favor.

“Tell me. You haven’t been shy about using your words so far, so tell me you want me to rip you in two.” “I want it,” she whispers. “Good girl.”

I heard everything. The tap, tap, tap of the mattress slamming against the wall. Her moans. How the fuck did that even happen? Since when has Gentry ever been more fuckable than me? He’s a miserable grouch, for fuck’s sake. She’s already caused problems, but now she’s a serious threat to our operation. I need to talk to Gentry about this and make sure his mind is still in the game. I knock on their door as I pass it and hope it annoys them as much as their late-night fuck fest annoyed me. Dicks.

“Sleep well?” he asks me. If I had my gun, I’d have shot him for the casual line of questioning. No. I did not sleep at all while listening to their zoo noises.

“If anyone tries to kill her, they’ll have to go through me. That includes you.” Something swells in my chest as he chooses me over his piece of shit brother. The choice can’t be that difficult, though. I’d choose syphilis over Karson.

I pull into a strip mall and wake Karson. “I need you two to get us some clothes.” I turn to Leana and place a wad of cash into her hand. “I need a shirt and some jeans. Do not let him pick anything out for me.” I glare at Karson. The last time I let him buy an outfit for me, I had to commit a double fucking homicide with the word “vagitarian” on the front of my shirt. I don’t think he’ll find anything like that in this little strip of outlet stores, but I refuse to risk it.

He grips a shirt in his hand as he sits down. Here we fucking go. I glare at Leana, and she gives me a sorry-filled shrug. Karson spreads the gray shirt open and laughs. It says “Cereal Killer” right across the front. A playful skull smiles below the lettering, complete with crossed spoons instead of crossbones. I scowl. “Oh, come on. It’s punny.” He looks at the shirt proudly. It could be worse, I guess. Silver linings and shit. I look into the back seat and pin Leana with a pleading glare. “Please tell me you also got something I can actually wear.” “Of course.” Leana nods and shakes a bag beside her. “But if you don’t do our next hit with a cereal killer shirt, what are we even doing?”

“This him?” Gentry asks, shaking him by his scalp. “Yeah.” “You’re the one who hurt my girl,” Gentry says as he lifts him to his feet. Mickey flails. “She’s not your girl. She’s mine.” “What an absolutely suicidal thing to say,”

We start toward the SUV, and the dog remains at Gentry’s side, keeping pace with him. I stop walking. “We cannot keep the murder mutt,” I say to Gentry. Judging by the softness in his eyes, that’s exactly what he’s considering. Leana stops and turns to face me. “Why not? Look at all the dried blood in his fur. He’s one of us.” “Absolutely not!” I say. “We’ve already taken in a stray thief. We don’t need to add another complication to our lives.”

The dog groans and stretches out beside me. His head drops onto my lap, and I play with his ears. “We need to give this guy a name.” “He already has a name,” Karson says. “It’s Murder Mutt.” I roll my eyes. “Could you imagine walking him in the park and calling his name? We’d get so many stares.” “Could you imagine walking in the fucking park?” Karson asks. Fair.