Unforeseen Riot

by Karen McKeown

  Natasha’s mouth was wide open. She threw back a healthy swig of her margarita and said, “I cannot even imagine your face when that guy said that!”

  I nodded. “Neither can I, but then Cal covered my mouth when I was mid-rant at that guy, and then he like frog marched me out of the room and back to his room. I lost it at that point. I told him I was calling an Uber or walking to the bus stop on Blanding.”

  Jackie let out a loud, gut busting laugh, “I would love to have been a fly on the wall for that. You are the shit, Mallory.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Then he decided he would take me home, calling me a headcase no less, and we went out the back. We met you and Volt. He took me home. I told him he’s not my type, and he told me that I don’t get it. I asked how promiscuous he is and should I be concerned about mouth sores, which was fairly insulting, but seriously, he never answered my question about who was yelling outside his door when we got there last night.”

  To this Jackie nodded. “That might’ve been Melissa. She’s a biker groupie who’s wanted Cal forever. He’s never even touched her to my knowledge, though he’s not hard-pressed for female companionship by any means.”

  I shrugged, “Well, good luck to her, because she can have him. He finally came around to my way of thinking and started spoutin’ off about my World Market cookies and stuff. And did I tell you, he had the gall to say that I have Gavin, James and Bobby eating out of my hand?!”

  Natasha chirped, “You do.”

  “I do not!”

  Natasha grabbed my hand on the table, “Honey. You’ve known those boys since college. They’re the reason you met Greg. If they didn’t force your ass to trivia every week, they’d probably only see you when you need handy-work done.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “That’s not true.”

  “Fine, but what is true is that those three guys wouldn’t nag your ass about weekly trivia if you didn’t have them eating out of your hand.”

  Jackie’s cell phone rang, “Hello? Oh, hey, Cal. How’s it goin’?”

  Jackie’s lips tightened up. “I’m at Chili’s. Where are you? Just curious, you on your bike? Oh, really. Well, that would be because we’re at a different Chili’s.”

  Suddenly, Jackie thrust her phone toward me; I took it. “Hi, Cal.”

  His gruff response was, “Did you seriously take Jackie to the Chili’s on Wells Road instead of the one here at Oakleaf?”

  “No. We’re at the one in Mandarin. Jackie wants to go to World Market. She heard from you about my tea and cookies.”

  Cal blew out a breath. “You’re takin’ her to World Market?”

  “I did not lie when I said it is the best store in town,” I don’t know why I did it, but I had to needle Cal. So I said, “I’m also going to return the sweater I was wearing last night, since SteinMart is right here.”

  Cal semi-chuckled. “Gonna be a trick, since the sweater is still sittin’ on the floor of your bathroom.”

  How would he know that? There was only one logical answer to that, “What the hell were you doing in my house?”

  “Cool your jets, woman. I needed to give you the key to your new backdoor. Forgot to do it yesterday. Plus, Volt wanted me to pick up his old lady. Two birds, one stone. I didn’t get an answer at the door, thought your car might have been moved into the garage. Decided to go inside and leave the key behind. Then I called Volt to tell him his old lady wasn’t here, and he had just gotten a text about Chili’s. Which brings me to Oakleaf.”

  My blood was boiling. He went in my house when I wasn’t there and he had been in my bathroom! He called me ‘woman’ again! He was coming to collect Jackie for Volt. Was that how things worked in his world? Caveman wants woman back in cave, he or his fellow caveman goes and gets woman. No, thank you.

  “Sorry, you’ll have to take a cage over the Buckman Bridge.”

  “Nope. I’m done. She’s on the other side of the river, Volt or a prospect can pick her ass up.”

  The line was exceptionally silent. I looked at the phone and Cal had indeed hung up. I gave Jackie back her phone.

  “How’d he get in your house, Mal?” Natasha asked.

  “The MF-er had a key to the new backdoor. Guess I need to add a locksmith to my list.”

  Jackie giggled, “It won’t matter. All the boys got picks.”

  She mentioned this like all the guys had toothbrushes.

  “Aren’t picks illegal?” I asked.

  Natasha shot me a look, “Mal! Is there a little number 1 and a percentage sign on his cut?”

  “I don’t know. I think so.”

  Jackie said, “Well, I know so, and there surely is a one-percenter patch on the Riot MC cuts.”

  “That means, he’s an outlaw, chica. He ain’t gonna much care that lockpicks are illegal.”

  “Natasha, how do you know about this stuff?”

  “Go binge watch Sons of Anarchy. You’ll be hip in no time.”

  Jackie was shaking her head, “No! Don’t do that. Hang out with me more, I’ll get you guys with the lingo, and it will be much more authentic. Hollywood can’t be trusted for shit, you know. By the way, he was totally driving a cage, not his bike. You must be special.”

  I thought I was going to dodge the bullet on dissecting the thing with Cal, but Natasha said, “Let’s get back to you and Cal. You gotta re-think breaking it off because he’s not your type.”

  Again Jackie was adamantly shaking her head. “No way. Stick to your guns. That’s what I did with Volt. These bikers are infuriating, and I should know. Besides, there was something about his tone when he asked to speak to you. You get to him.”

  “I’ll be sticking to my guns all right. You can count on it.”

  Jackie beamed at me. Natasha just shook her head.

  After lunch and shopping on Sunday with Tasha and Jackie, my life went back to normal. I went to work and I came home. Day in, day out. I knew that Cal and I would not work out. But I had no idea why I was in a funk about it. Every time I passed a motorcycle on the road, I looked at the rider to see if he was wearing a cut. Before, I never cared. I mean, I looked twice for motorcycles and all that safe-driver jazz. Now, I was paying far too much attention. Deep down, I wanted the next motorcycle that pulled up beside me to have Cal on it.

  Chapter 9

  I took Friday off from work. My lawyer had called on Thursday, and the insurance company was ready with the settlement funds. I called Gwen Thursday night, and arranged to meet her for brunch at Grumpy’s. When we spoke on the phone Thursday night, she admitted that she was, in fact, having some credit card debt issues. My lawyer had taken a third of the total sum, and I offered to give the rest of it to Gwendolyn. She refused, and said she couldn’t possibly do that, because my home had been burgled.

  It was a rainy morning, and there was more traffic than usual because of the weather. Luckily the meeting with my lawyer was quick and I provided them with my account information, so the funds were wired to my credit union. I dropped by my credit union on my way to the restaurant and picked up a cashier’s check made out to Gwendolyn Pierce. I was early and walked into Grumpy’s at a quarter to eleven. I figured I’d get us a table and wait. The hostess led me to a small table adjacent to a group of six large men, all wearing leather cuts. Thankfully, the patch on the back was not for the Riot MC, but for the Leatherneck MC. My father had served four years as a Marine before I was born. Seeing the patch for this MC, I knew if my Dad was here, he’d have greeted everyone of those six men as if they were his brother. As I was contemplating this, I was staring off into space in their general direction. I noticed one of the men facing me lifted his chin and smiled at me. He was very good-looking with dark hair cut in what once was a military cut, but was growing out. He had it spiked up and his dark-blue eyes crinkled when he smiled. I gave him a shy smile, hoping it communicated, “Sorry, not interested.”

  My telepathic communication was misinterpreted though, because he sauntered o
ver to my table. He pulled out the chair across from me and sat down. Before he said anything, I said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

  He smiled again, and it was a beautiful smile. Wide and big, like he was a happy-go-lucky guy. His teeth were even and shiny. Had I not been feeling skittish about all things biker, I might have been interested in this guy. The patch on his cut indicated his name was Razor.

  “That’s okay, baby. I saw you takin’ in our cuts. You in the life?”

  His question brought Vamp to mind. I said, “Uh, no. Can’t say that I am.”

  A look must have crossed my face, “What’s wrong? You look a little worried. I promise I don’t bite. Unless you ask me nicely.”

  “No, well. I’m meeting someone, and it’s probably not going to be a very pleasant visit.”

  Razor gave me a skeptical look. “Pretty lady like you shouldn’t have to deal with unpleasantness.”

  I titled my head. “Well, life is sometimes unpleasant, gotta deal with it.”

  He stood up to go. “You’re not wrong.”

  Before he could turn, I said, “Thank you for your service.”

  He arched a brow, “Pardon?”

  “Your service to the country. Marines. Leathernecks.”

  He smiled again. “Oh. Yeah. You’re welcome, baby.”

  Razor had just sat down at his table again when I noticed Gwendolyn coming my way. My back was to the entrance and I had a clear view of the counter area and the line cooks slinging eggs, bacon and other food. Gwen stutter-stepped when she caught sight of the Leathernecks. All of the men were large, and I could see where she might be a little intimidated, but it seemed strange that she hesitated as she came to the table. She sat down, and our waitress was tableside to take Gwen’s drink order.

  The waitress returned with Gwen’s iced tea, and took our orders. I grabbed my purse and took the envelope with the check out of it. I put it on the table, and slid it across to Gwen.

  “So, my lawyer managed to get the insurance company to pay out $25,000 above the policy’s max limit of $100,000. So, with the legal fees, I received a little over $83,000. However, the taxman always gets his cut too, so that brought it down to just over $66,000. You wanted me to keep some because of the home invasion, so this check is to you in the amount of sixty grand. Certainly, that will clear your credit card debt and leave you sitting pretty, right?”

  Before Gwen could respond, the waitress came by with our respective orders. My spinach quiche was glorious. The right blend of spinach, Swiss cheese, and onions with the eggs. Gwen went with a western omelet which was a good seven inches in length. As I was eating, I noticed that each of the six men at the Leatherneck MC table had taken the time to check out me and Gwen. Even Gwen, which I found weird because she was old enough to be the mother of some of these guys. I was also watching the line cooks flipping pancakes and dishing up orders. One of them was wearing a winter ski cap that was black and white with a festive pom-pom on the top. The base of the cap said, “PRANK” in large fancy lettering. I thought it was strange to see someone in a winter hat, when the lows were only in the mid-forties.

  I was contemplating this cook’s hat, when I realized Razor was headed my way. I was wearing a lavender cotton t-shirt which had a very small, two-inch-square pocket over the breast. As far as I was concerned, it was ornamental and I never thought about it. Not until the moment Razor walked up to me, leaned into my space, and I was struck immobile by how good he smelled; so struck by the heady blend of leather and ocean, that I did not see his next move coming. His hand placed a folded scrap of paper in the tiny pocket. Doing so, he removed his fingers slowly, while exerting a slight pressure on my boob. Talk about forward, but God, was it sexy as hell. He followed this move by grazing my cheek with the back of his fingers.

  He said, “My digits. Use ‘em anytime you got unpleasantness.” He winked and walked away. I watched him go. His ass was spectacular in his blue jeans. Unfortunately, as I watched him head to the cash register behind me, I saw Cal stand up from a table behind the cashier. He glanced at me, but he seemed to be staring daggers at Razor. Uh-oh. Wait, no uh-oh. We were done. D-O-N-E, done, so it shouldn’t make any difference to Cal if someone gave me their number. The manner in which it was delivered was a little unorthodox, but still, not Cal’s business.

  I saw Razor move away from the register and out the door. Cal followed close behind. I turned awkwardly in my seat to see the two men standing toe-to-toe, having words. Razor turned his head to look back in the restaurant, and I turned back around. That was when I saw the fear on Gwen’s face. Fear mixed with a dash of concern.

  Gwen leaned in and hissed, “Mallory Jane, do you know those men?”

  I tilted my head. “No. As if. While I was waiting he came and tried to hit on me. I think. And the other guy is a friend of Gavin’s and he played trivia with us once like two or three weeks ago,” I semi-lied. “Anyway, put the check in your purse. Have any plans for the weekend?”

  Gwen was mid-sentence when Cal approached our table. I looked up at him and he lifted his chin up and toward the door. More macho Neanderthal crap. Great.

  I smiled, “I’m sorry, but my mind-reading skills are out of order today. You got something to say, say it directly.”

  Now Cal was staring daggers at me. “You. Out there. Now.”

  Maybe it was the mother in me, maybe it was my Southern manners, but reflexively I asked, “Can I get a ‘Please?’”

  Cal grabbed my arm and growled, “Please and thank you, Mallory.”

  Cal had hold of my elbow. He was marching me out the door. I was feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. When we were standing in the parking lot, I whirled on him and wrenched my arm away. “What is your problem?”

  Cal was standing hands on jean clad hips. He was wearing a long-sleeve Harley-Davidson orange thermal. It contrasted well with his tan complexion. If I wore something like that, it would make me look pale. The bastard.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, he said, “What was that shit with Razor?”

  I tilted my head. “You know, it’s not every day I encounter a man forward enough to put something in an ornamental pocket on my shirt!”

  Cal’s lips thinned, “You talk to him before that?”

  “He dropped by my table before Gwen showed up. Wanted to know if I was ‘in the life’. I told him I was not, he was mistaken, and I was sorry if he had the wrong impression. End of.”

  Cal leaned toward me, “It’s never ‘end of’ with guys like me and Razor.”

  My eyebrows drew together. “Really? Cause I seem to recall us both agreeing that we were done last Sunday. And I assure you, I won’t be using this guy’s number. Period. End of.”

  Cal’s facial expression told me he was trying to hold his cool. “Let’s wrap this up, sweet cheeks. You see a group of MC guys in a restaurant, you do a one-eighty and get the fuck out of there. That’s the End Of.”

  My eyes were bugging out of my head, “How was I supposed to know those guys were here, when I showed up? There were no bikes, and for that matter I didn’t hear your bike when you came in either.”

  Cal ran a hand down his face, then said, “Weather, woman. A front’s moving in this afternoon, it’s overcast now, it’s gonna be rough weather when it gets here. I ain’t up for riding when it’s raining, at least not in February. Blood and I came in my Mustang. Now, what the fuck are you doin’ talkin' to Raze? You do not want the attention of the Leathernecks. Based on how they were lookin at you and your mom, you’ve got their fuckin’ attention. I didn’t know it was you until that cocksucker put his fuckin’ hand down your shirt and you turned to watch him strut away.”

  I’m a stickler for details, and I stupidly said, “Men don’t strut. Women do. And what do you care anyway? You said we had no chance of working out. I know we’re better off. It’s not your concern. Also, she’s not my mom, she’s my mother-in-law. He doesn’t even know my name. If you might recall, he had to give
me his number, hoping I’ll use it.”

  Cal’s lips tipped up at the side, just slightly. “Don’t. If you think I’m bad news for no good reason, I assure you he is the worst fuckin’ news you can get. If Vamp were in the Leatherneck’s club instead of ours, Razor would be his fuckin’ mentor. He likes women, he’s good with women. But he is one and done, babe. I saw you givin’ him the big eyes. Don’t. Go. There. If you listen to anything I say, listen to that.”

  Cal turned and stalked back into Grumpy’s. I slowly followed and went back to my table.

  * * * * *

  I returned home from Grumpy’s to wait for my security system install appointment. My appointment window was during prime nap time between one o’clock and three o’clock, which sucked because it was perfect nap weather. Overcast and misty conditions meant my bedroom would be the perfect dimness for a siesta. I curled up in my oversized armchair with a cup of Earl Grey and my recent library book to pass the time. My phone was resting on the arm rest. A high-pitched ding indicated I had a text message.

  Jackie: Girl! You’re @ it again! :)

  I was? At what? Confused, I texted back, “I’m at what again? I’m confused is more like it.”

  Another ping and the text read, “Cal was INSENSED I tell you. I do not exaggerate.”

  Me: Uh, why??

  Then my phone rang. The display said Jackie was calling.

  “Hello, Jackie.”

  “Girl! Cal is a good-looking man. Not as good as Volt, but I can appreciate a decent man regardless. Anyway, when he’s enraged, he is a sight to see. He came back from lunch with Blood and I thought he was going to put holes in the walls.”