Ride with me, come to my hell and save me from the fire. If you can.

Chapter 2

NICK

Groaning and rubbing his head he peaked open one eye as the midday sun was coming through the stained glass of his window. The red Egyptian cotton of his bed sheet was pulled down exposing his chest. It was clear he took pride in his looks and body, needing to stay in the best shape. Every muscle was sculpted and toned. He wasn't without his flaws; however, he had a long jagged scar that went from his right n****e down to his belly button, a scar from a bullet that went clean through his left pectoral along with other minor scaring from years of dirty fighting.

He felt a woman's hand over his waist, her fingers drawing circles on his hip bone. She hummed in satisfaction trying to get a stir from Nick and see if their night of passion would continue this morning.

“You're still here,” he said in a gruff dry tone. Almost slightly annoyed. He knew better than to have gotten this minx into bed, but last night he was too drunk to care. He had a long night with his president going over a new business idea for the club.

Ella propped herself up on her elbow resting her chin in her hand. Batting the long lashes of her light green eyes. Her strawberry blonde hair fell to the side and her makeup was still intact even after all their extra activities. She clearly used expensive products for this very reason.

Nick never cared for a woman to cake on makeup and cover up her natural born beauty, but he wasn't one to turn a nightly companion either. He would still appreciate the woman regardless.

“Of course baby, i wanted to give you a good morning” she purred out slipping her hand under the bed sheet.

He quickly grabbed her wrist and pushed her off him “Thanks but i don't need it. You can leave” he said probably a bit too harshly but what did he care? He got what he wanted from her. It wasn't his fault she wanted more. He didn't have more to give anyone. He simply took what he wanted and went on his way.

She huffed annoyed as she put back on her skimpy dress that left nothing to the imagination. “You'll be back Nick,” she said before storming out of his room.

He chuckled to himself dryly rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip, “probably” he whispered for only himself to hear.

Standing up from bed now he stretched out all his limbs. Every muscle flexed beautifully along his skin, a few joints popped and cracked as he did. He made his way into his ensuite bathroom to shower off the night with Ella.

After showering off and now smelling of his woodsy-smelling body soap. He toweled and dried his body half-hazard, so when he put his white T-Shirt on there were water marks scattered over it. He put on his Levi jeans and took a comb to his head slicking back his dark brown hair. It was only an inch or two in length, if it ever grew past his ears he felt it was too long. Looking in the mirror he nodded at his appearance before leaving his room. He was a good-looking man, the woman he bedded would prove it all too easily. His sharp chiseled jawline with an ever-present

stubble, dark grey eyes that held so much mystery, defined cheekbones. He could have easily been a model had his life taken him down a different path. He probably wouldn't have chosen it now if he was being honest, he loved being the vice president of the West Vipers motorcycle club. He enjoyed the fast bikes, the violence, and the woman. There was almost never a dull moment, almost. Grabbing his leather jacket with his vp patch and a giant snake on the back with its fangs exposed, the club logo. He was out the door.

Coming down the stairs of the clubhouse he nodded at the few men that were up and in the kitchen. The club was a mix of different aged men, all with their own stories and battle scars.

He pushed open the door to the office seeing the president already in his chair behind the desk. “Prez,” Nick nodded as he took a seat on the couch.

Chuck, the president of the West Vipers, was a man in his mid-fifties. He was a beast of a man; tall, standing at six foot five inches. With hulking muscles that looked like he was able to punch a hole through a tree. No hair atop his head, no one knew if he shaved it or lost it from age. His beard was grey and hung no more than three inches from his chin. The wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes also showed his age more than the grey bread.

Nick was taller than Chuck by two inches, and his build was lean and toned in comparison to him. However, Nick was just as scary and intimidating in his own right.

“Nick, you actually got up early for once.” Chuck laughed looking at the clock on the wall. It was twelve-thirty in the afternoon. Nick was rarely up before two.

“Hey there's a first time for everything,” he smirked leaning back on the worn-out leather couch.

“There certainly is,” Chuck lit up a cigarette and took a long drag before continuing, “We have a problem,” he said with his tone turning serious. “The Devil Rods are trying to move in on our territory. They want us to merge and join them, so they say.”

Nick sat up straight, his nostrils flaring from his anger. “Those fuckers, they want us to give up everything and work for them.”

“Yes, i know what they are trying to do.” he held up his hand trying to tell Nick to stand down. “But we can't take them on, they're growing in numbers slowly but surely.”

“Well, then what the f**k are we going to do? We can't cave and dispel the club…”

“Enough! Let me talk damn it!” Chuck demanded, there was no room for argument

Nick sulked back into the couch crossing his arms over his chest

“Thank you,” Chuck took another drag from his cigarette puffing out the cloud of smoke. “Grab Gomez, Luke, and Ryan. We're taking a ride.”

“Where?”

“To visit an old friend,” Chuck stated before putting out his cigarette in the ashtray….