“We’ve got a big run coming up,” Crow added. “Need our best man on it.” Ryder knew what that meant.
The runs were not really about riding motorcycles anymore. They often ended with someone hurt, arrested, or worse.
“I’m done with that life,” Ryder said. Snake’s hand landed on Ryder’s shoulder.
To anyone watching, it might have looked friendly. Ryder felt the warning in the pressure of his fingers.
“Nobody’s ever done, Red. You took the oath.” Snake’s eyes hardened.
“Blood in, blood out. Remember?” Ryder remembered too well.
He remembered the night they had taken him in. He had been angry, lost, and desperate to belong somewhere.
The club had given him a family when he believed he had none. They had given him purpose.
Brothers. A name people respected because they feared it.
Once, Ryder had believed that was enough. Now all he could see was Maggie’s smile.
Max reaching for him. Clare’s hand on his arm.
“Things change,” Ryder said, shrugging Snake’s hand away. Snake’s voice dropped dangerously low.
“Well, here’s what hasn’t changed. We need you on this run tonight. No excuses.” Diesel revved his engine.
“Unless you want us to pay your new family a visit. Make sure they understand what kind of man they’re dealing with.” Ice moved through Ryder’s veins.
He crossed the space between them before he knew he had moved and grabbed Diesel’s jacket. “You stay away from them.”
Snake stepped between the two men. “Then do your job, brother. Simple as that.”
Ryder released Diesel and stepped back. The choice opened in front of him like a drop-off.
The men he had called family for most of his adult life stood on one side. On the other was a fragile possibility with Clare, Maggie, and Max.
“I’ll think about it,” Ryder said. The words tasted like ash.
Snake nodded. But his eyes remained cold.
“Think fast. We roll at midnight.” The three motorcycles roared away.
Ryder watched until they disappeared around the corner. The morning sunlight felt weaker after they left.
He knew the matter was not finished. The club did not let people simply walk away.
Ryder returned to his apartment and paced again. His fingers brushed over the patches on the vest hanging near the door.
Symbols of loyalty. Brotherhood.
A life he had lived for so long without questioning its direction. Now the apartment felt like a museum dedicated to someone he no longer wanted to be.
Photographs from club runs stared at him from the walls. Desert highways.