Riggs (The Kings of Retribution MC, Louisiana Chapter Book 1)

by Crystal Daniels

  "Your compliance won't save you, but it will determine how swift your death will be," Jake snarls. "I couldn't care less either way. Tell me what Rex knows about Luna and who is feeding him the information."

  Finally, Pike speaks. "My brother gets his intel from one of the guards at the jail. I don't fuckin' know which one. Besides," Pike looks at Jake with a smile and blood dripping from his mouth, "Rex was released two days ago. It turns out the authorities don't need that bitch of his. The charges against my brother were dropped due to insufficient evidence."

  "Fuck," I hiss. Pike begins to cackle, and it's grating on my nerves. The more he speaks, the more I want to end his worthless life.

  "You assholes are so fucked. My brother will not stop until he gets what he wants, and for whatever reason, he wants that deaf bitch. Don't know why he'd want that whore." The moment those words leave his mouth, I fly across the room and tackle Pike to the floor where I begin to beat his worthless ass. After many blows to his face and body, I rein my temper in and back off. Killing this pussy is not my place. Pike heaves in a few deep breaths, then coughs out two teeth onto the basement floor.

  "Rex is coming for her. He won't stop until he gets back what's his," Pike wheezes.

  Standing over the pathetic excuse for a man, I spit, "he'll never touch Luna again. I look forward to the day I send your brother straight to hell, right beside you." With nothing left to say, I give Jake a look, then walk out of the basement with my brothers Fender and Kiwi following behind. By the time I clear the top of the stairs, a single gunshot rings out. Justice has been served — Kings style.

  Early the following morning, the entire Kings family stands outside the clubhouse saying their goodbyes. Luna says a private goodbye to Sofia while Jake and his men along with myself and my brothers share a round of handshakes. "It was damn good to see ya, brother," Jake says. "Fucked up circumstances, but it is what it is."

  "Right back at ya, man," I return mounting my bike. "I want y'all to bring your asses down to New Orleans real soon, you hear. Show y'all how us Cajuns like to party."

  "I'll make it happen soon, brother. You have my word," Jake promises.

  I turn my attention from one of my oldest friends to Luna, who is hugging Sofia. When she breaks away, she catches my eye. "You ready, baby?" I asked, then hold out my hand for her to take. Without breaking eye contact, Luna walks up to my bike, takes my hand, and climbs on behind me.

  Fucking ruined.

  Raising my hand, I give Jake one final salute over my shoulder as my brothers and I ride through the gate. Turning my head to the side so Luna can see my face, I bring my hand up, touch all five fingers to the corner of my mouth, then drag them up to the edge of my eye, I sign the word home. Luna gives me a sweet smile.

  Yeah. My girl is coming home with me.

  Chapter Eight

  Luna

  We've been on the road for several hours now, and my body is starting to feel the effects. This is only my second time on a motorcycle; my first being when I was rescued from the lumber mill. Even though I was with Rex for a couple of months, he not once took me for a ride on his; not that I ever showed any interest. I always thought I'd be scared to ride on the back of a motorcycle, but surprisingly being on the back of Riggs' is not so bad. I had been tense for the first thirty minutes of the ride, but as the minutes ticked by, I slowly started to relax. I'm sure Riggs was grateful since I had such a death grip on his torso. With my body so close to his, I am rewarded with the scent of his woodsy cologne mixed with his own personal musk and motor oil. I hate to admit it, but I like it; I like it a whole lot.

  When the bike makes a turn, I open my eyes and lift my head from Riggs' back. I've been so lost in my thoughts I haven't noticed I'd been resting up against him. I straighten my back as I try to put a couple of inches of distance in between us as we park in front of a diner. Cutting the engine to his bike, Riggs offers me his hand and helps me slide off on unsteady legs.

  Climbing off, he turns to me. "You hungry?" Just then, my stomach rumbles, answering his question. He must have heard because his lips tip up in a smirk and I blush.

  Looking over my shoulder, Riggs tips his chin at the other men, Kiwi and Fender who have already parked their bikes and are now roaming in our direction. Without hesitation, Riggs takes hold of my hand in his much bigger one and leads the way inside the diner. The second we step inside, our presence draws the attention of each customer. Feeling uneasy with the sudden attention I shrink away, hiding my body behind Riggs. There is something about having so many eyes on me that brings a sense of vulnerability. It's the way people look at you as if they are judging you; making you feel transparent. As if they can see straight through me to all my flaws. I know it's not true. I'm the kind of person who'd rather blend in instead of standing out. But right now, that is kind of hard with the three bikers standing with me looking utterly unaffected by the attention they have gained. Then again, I'm sure they are used to it by now. Aside from being large men wearing MC cuts, they are also three handsome men.

  Tugging on my hand, Riggs walks us passed an elderly couple sitting at a table looking at us with suspicious eyes as Kiwi and Fender fall in behind us. Stopping at an empty booth, Riggs motions for me to sit. I do without question, and he slides in beside me while his two men take a seat across from us. When the waitress steps up to us, she places our menus on the table. I also don't miss the googly eyes she makes at the man sitting beside me, then subtly pulls the front of her uniform down, like she's trying to offer up her big boobs as an appetizer. Without missing a beat, Riggs starts to sign what the waitress is saying. "Hi. My name is Becky, and I'll be your waitress. Can I get you all something to drink?"

  As if our waitress couldn't get any more annoying, she swoons over the sight of a big, hot biker using ASL. I guess his ability to communicate with the hearing impaired has taken his hotness to the next level. I must not have hidden my reaction very well because I catch sight of Kiwi across from me and by the jerky movements of his shoulders, he's getting a good laugh. When I bring my attention back to Riggs and our waitress, she doesn't look too pleased with my reaction.

  Damn. I hope she doesn't spit in my food.

  Ignoring her, I tell Riggs, "I'd like a Coke, please." He relays my choice to Becky. After taking everyone else's drink order, she trots off behind the counter. I don't miss the way she puts an exaggerated sway into her hips as she retreats.

  Desperate much?

  I don't know why her flirting bothers me. Riggs is nothing to me. He's no more than a bossy, overbearing, babysitter. And I'm just a chick that was pawned off on him as a favor to the club.

  Shoving those thoughts away, I turn and tap Riggs on the shoulder. When he trains those blue eyes on me, I tell him, "I need to use the bathroom." Nodding, he stands from the booth. Scooting my way to the edge, I wait a second for Riggs to take a step back and allow me more space to pass. When I see that he has no intention of moving, I am forced to invade his personal space as my breasts brush over his arm. The contact causes my skin to prickle and my breath to hitch. When I chance a glance up at his face, his stare has turned molten, and his pupils are dilated, making his blue eyes look more piercing. The air around us becomes electric; neither one of us says a word. I cut my eyes over to our audience; I see Fender with his head cocked as if he's trying to make heads or tails of the situation.

  As am I.

  Whereas Kiwi is sporting a shit-eating grin. Feeling overwhelmed and confused, I tuck tail and make a mad dash toward the ladies' room.

  Finished with my business, I exit the stall and head to the sink to wash my hands. Bracing my palm on the counter, I give my reflection a long hard look.

  I look like shit with my frizzy wind-blown hair to the bags under my eyes. Shaking my head, I hold my palm under the cold water then continue to splash it on my face. I wet my hands again and run my fingers through my hair. Taking a hair tie from my pocket, I go about braiding my long blonde hair in an attempt to tame the
fizziness. Satisfied with the look, I dry my hands, toss the paper towel in the trash bin, and exit the bathroom. Waiting in the hallway for me is Riggs.

  "I came to check on you. Wanted to make sure you didn't try to slip out the back."

  "I already told you, no more sneaking out."

  "I know, but still."

  "Whatever," I sign my face going hard as I step around his tall form and make my way to the booth as he trails close behind. By the time I return to the table, the food has been delivered. Riggs must have ordered for me while I was in the bathroom. Once I am seated, I lift the bun off the top of the burger to see that it's mushroom and swiss. Yum. Satisfied with the meal chosen for me, I waste no time digging in. I let out a small moan as the delicious flavor hits my taste buds. What can I say, I enjoy food, and all ladylike manners fly out the window when I'm this hungry. Setting my burger down, I reach to my right for the ketchup and squeeze a healthy amount over the top of my fries. I then pick up the mustard, doing the same. Satisfied with my ketchup to mustard ratio, I pluck three fries up at the same time and shove them in my mouth. I do it two more times before I pick my hamburger up and take another generous bite. Realizing I have three sets of eyes on me, I peer up from my plate. I take in Riggs, Fender and Kiwi's faces. "What?"

  Riggs grins and shakes his head. "Nothing, baby."

  Realizing I probably look like a pig, I blush and look away from the guys feeling embarrassed. Snatching the napkin off the table, I hang my head as I wipe the ketchup from my mouth. Placing his finger underneath my chin, Riggs urges me to look at him. "I wasn't making fun of you, baby. I love watching you eat. I even like the sexy little moans you make when you enjoy your food."

  Holy shit! If I thought my face couldn't turn redder, I was wrong.

  "Eat," Riggs nods toward the table. Smiling, I tuck back into my meal. Once I have finished every bite, I push the plate away the same moment our waitress returns. She smiles and places the check on the table. I also watch as she tears a piece of paper from her notepad and slides it across the table in front of Riggs. She makes it a point to make eye contact with him. When he pockets the number, my stomach sinks, and she slides her gaze over to me with a smirk.

  Bitch.

  With all the confidence in the world, she trots back behind the counter where she goes about serving a few other patrons.

  Standing from the booth, Riggs grabs the check from the table and offers me his hand. I look at his face, then his hand and back at his face. Lifting my chin, I ignore his offering. It pisses me off when I see the hint of a smile behind his beard.

  Asshole.

  I follow behind him as he steps up to the counter to pay the bill, but quickly decide I am not in the mood to watch him flirt with the waitress. When I go to move past him, I don't make it two steps before I feel a secure arm snag around my waist, and I'm pulled flush against Riggs' side. Bitch Becky loses the smile she had on her face moments ago. She takes the check, and the cash from Riggs as she goes about placing the money in the register then gives him his change. Crossing my arms over my chest, I not so patiently wait for them to finish. Beside the register, I spot the tip jar and wonder how much Riggs thinks Becky's service is worth. But instead of placing the change into the tip jar, he pockets it. Next, he takes a piece of paper out of the front pocket of his cut. It's then I notice it's the paper the waitress wrote her number on. Releasing his hold on my waist, Riggs places the paper in the tip jar then brings his hands up to sign. "My girl didn't appreciate your advance back at our table. My tip for you; don't flirt with men while you are on the job. Especially not when the customer is with his woman. It's disrespectful." Riggs finishes leaving me stunned, and the waitress pissed. Without a second glance, he places his hand on the small of my back and ushers me out of the diner.

  When we step up to where we are parked, Kiwi and Fender are sitting on their bikes, smoking a cigarette. The two of them, along with Riggs exchange a few words as I grab my helmet from its place on the back of his bike. Riggs looks at me. "We're going to ride a few more hours then find a place to crash for the night."

  "Okay," I tell him.

  Straddling his bike Riggs looks at me expectantly. When I step up to him, I glance back over my shoulder at Kiwi and Fender then back at Riggs. "Should I ride with one of the other guys? Give you a break?" I ask.

  Riggs' face grows hard. "No." This time he doesn't sign. He doesn't need to. I understood him perfectly. I swallow past the lump in my throat as I place a shaky hand on his shoulder and climb on his bike behind him. If I had known my question was going to make him mad, I wouldn't have asked. I just figured he could use a break from my clutches.

  Back on the road, I last all of thirty minutes of trying to keep some distance between myself and Riggs and not mold myself to his back as I did for the first half of our ride. But I soon lose the fight and close the gap between us wrapping my arms fully around his waist. For whatever reason, I can't help the strange pull I have toward this man. It's like my body seeks his warmth. Releasing a deep breath, I rest my cheek on his leather covered back, breathing in his intoxicating scent, close my eyes, and enjoy the wind on my face. I smile into Riggs' cut when he reaches back and runs his big hand up my leg.

  Darkness has fallen well over an hour ago, and the warm sun has turned into a chilly breeze. I have on jeans, but the short sleeve t-shirt is not keeping me warm, and I start to shiver. It takes Riggs all of two seconds to sense my distress, and he makes some sort of hand signal to Kiwi and Fender before pulling off to the side of the road. Cutting the engine to his bike, he slides off. I watch as he tugs his cut off and hangs it on the handlebar where he proceeds to pull off the hunter green long sleeve thermal he's wearing, leaving himself in just a black t-shirt. "Arms up baby," he instructs.

  Lifting my shaky hands as I shiver, I ask, "what about you?"

  "I'll be fine. Now arms up."

  Deciding not to argue, I allow Riggs to slide his shirt on over my head, then thread my arms through. With his heat still engulfed in the shirt, it feels like heaven against my cold skin. Without thinking, I bring the front of the thermal to my nose and inhale his scent. When I open my eyes Riggs' nostrils flare, and his eyes have turned molten. I'm embarrassed I have been caught sniffing his shirt.

  Jerking his cut from the handlebar, Riggs turns back toward me and runs his hand through his beard, looking frustrated. I suddenly feel self-conscious again, thinking I have somehow irritated him. Not knowing what to do, I start fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt I have on as I try to avoid eye contact. I look up through my lashes to catch Riggs taking a step closer toward me. He braces one hand on the fuel tank and the other on the seat next to my butt as he looms over me, invading every inch of my personal space. With his face a mere inch away from mine, I have no trouble reading his lips. "Soon Mon Tresor, this is going to happen," he declares and my breath hitches. My eyes travel from his mouth up to his blue eyes and back down to his mouth. Thinking about what kissing him would be like, I suppress the urge by biting down on my bottom lip. Standing to his full height, Riggs gives me a look I can't quite decipher before climbing on his bike.

  An hour later we pull into the parking lot of a hotel. Riggs says something to Fender, and he promptly makes his way inside. He returns a few minutes later with two key cards. He keeps one then passes one over to Riggs. Both Fender and Kiwi retrieve their bags from the back of their bikes as Riggs goes about doing the same, passing me mine. He then grabs my hand in his and leads us up a set of stairs. I glance over my shoulder to see Kiwi and Fender head for a room on the lower level of the hotel. Suddenly it dawns on me that Fender only had two key cards. I didn't think about what our sleeping arrangements would be while traveling. Coming to a dead stop, I pull away from Riggs. He turns to look at me, and I ask. "Don't I get my own room?"

  Riggs gives me a bored look and says his favorite word. "No." Leaving no room for argument, I have no choice but to follow him as he once again takes my hand and leads us to our r
oom. Once inside he tells me I can take a shower first and no way in hell am I going to argue that. After being on the road all day I feel grimy. Carrying my bag with me, I head straight for the bathroom. Stepping inside, I lock the door behind me. Setting my bag on the counter next to the sink, I pull out my sleep shorts and top. Since I was only able to bring my essentials with me on the road, I had to leave my hair products behind. Luckily the hotel supplies those tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner. They will do in a pinch. Finished with a much-needed shower, I dress in my pajamas and brush my hair, deciding to leave it down for the night.

  The smell of Chinese food assaults my nose the moment I open the bathroom door; or at least I hope that's what it is. When I step out of the bathroom, Riggs has his back turned to me as he lays food containers out on the table in front of the hotel room window. Sensing my presence behind him, he turns. With hooded eyes, he doesn't hide the way he appraises me from head to toe. The way he is looking at me causes my tummy to flutter, and I'm suddenly nervous about us sharing a room. A room with only one bed. One king size bed. Finished with his inspection, he tells me, "I had Kiwi go out and get us some dinner."

  Too hungry to think about our sleeping arrangements at the moment, I join Riggs at the table where we eat together comfortably without conversation. With my belly full my eyelids grow heavy as my food coma starts getting the better of me. Standing from the table, I amble over to the bed and grab one of the extra blankets folded at the foot, then make my way over to the chair in the corner of the room. The chair doesn't look comfortable, but no way am I sharing a bed with Riggs. Plopping down, I pull my legs up to my chest and snuggle into the blanket. No sooner do my eyes close when I am abruptly lifted into a pair of strong arms. The action causes me to startle, and I have no choice but to wrap my arms around Riggs' neck. Gently he lays me down on the bed. "I'm going to jump in the shower. Your ass better be in this bed when I get back." With that, he turns and stalks into the bathroom, shutting the door, not allowing me to say anything in protest.