Harm's Way: Riot MC Biloxi

by Karen Renee

  “Yeah. You’re mine, we been together four days now, but bottom line, I don’t fuckin’ like this shit.”

  “That makes two of us, my man.”

  He liked hearing her call him ‘my man,’ but he had to focus. “Don’t get sassy, Steph.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not being sassy.”

  “Good to know. Thing is, I’ve always known what I want. Last time I came across a woman I wanted was close to ten years ago, and I was too damn late. Been feeling something with you I haven’t felt ever before.”

  She raised a finger, drawing an arc in the air. “Can I just point something out?”

  He lifted his chin.

  She grinned. “You sound awful close to analyzing your feelings.”

  He clenched his teeth and speared a bite of sausage. “Eat your breakfast, Combes. I got a bunch of shit to do this morning, and I’m not lookin’ forward to any of it. Especially since my original plan for this morning got shot to shit.”

  Her lips tipped up a touch. “What was your original plan?”

  He stared into her deep hazel eyes longer than necessary. “Eat what you brought me, eat you, then depending on my mood, shower sex or regular sex, but either way, you’d have gotten off twice.”

  She smirked. “Unless I sucked you off while you had second breakfast. Then, you might’ve come twice too. Just saying.”

  His dick twitched with that and he shook his head. “Woman. You cannot say shit like that to me.”

  She sat back in her chair dramatically. “Really? But you can say shit like that to me?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah. Because I get you hot and bothered, I’ll take care of it. You say shit like that, I have no guarantee you’ll deliver.” He grinned and added, “At least not after three days.”

  Her eyes widened, and satisfaction like he’d never known coursed through his body. That expression also forced a chuckle from him, which only irritated her further, making him laugh harder.

  “Do not laugh at me, Michael Walcott!”

  He leaned back and let his laughter wash over him. She growled, and it forced him to double over as he tried to squelch his humor.

  He hadn’t laughed like that in years.

  God, he loved having her around.

  That brought him up short. Did he love her? That was the very reason he wouldn’t analyze his feelings.

  Someone knocked at the door. “Come in!” he hollered.

  Brute poked his head inside. “With the exception of Wreck and Massive, all the brothers are here. You want me to have Layla brought in, or what? Figure Mass and Wreck could roll in any time after ten under the circumstances.”

  He nodded. “Got it. Leave Layla where she is for now, but have the prospects get her ready. And she needs to be gagged coming from the shed to church.”

  Brute nodded and closed the door.

  Stephanie took a small bite of her hash browns, but he could tell from her expression she didn’t have an appetite.

  “Don’t eat if you’re not feelin’ it, baby.”

  She looked up at him. “I cook something, I eat that something, but I’ll keep your advice in mind.”

  He stood up. Then he lowered his hand to brush his knuckles along her cheekbone. “You want, I’ll have a low-country boil brought to the house tonight. Make up for the roast you fed to half my brothers, love.”

  She nodded once. “We’re definitely at the house tonight?”

  He returned the nod. “Think so, but if that changes, I’ll text you, so be sure to check your phone at the end of your shift.”

  “Gotcha. I assume you’ve got a meeting or church to attend now, so if it’s all cool with you, I’m taking a long hot shower.”

  He did a long blink to ignore visions of her naked in his bathroom. When he focused on her, he smiled. “Yeah. You’re good, baby. Text me before you leave, though, understood?”

  She sighed. “Understood, though I think it’s overkill since he just visited Suze an hour ago.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Humor me, babe, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she sighed.

  Before he made it a foot from the table, a memory hit him from her first visit to the clubhouse. “By the way. I got soap in the shower. But if you need something special, tell me now, so you don’t have to interrupt us later.”

  Chapter 20

  Less Than Upstanding

  Har

  “I SHOULD HAVE INSISTED everyone stick around last night. But by the time Layla spilled, not only were most of you gone, but Massive and Wreck were long gone.”

  Tiny narrowed his eyes on Har. “You tellin’ us, Layla gave you information about our brothers? I don’t trust women, and I trust her the fuckin’ least. She’s had every one of our cocks in her mouth.”

  Har clenched his teeth. “You’re right, but her oral skills aren’t the fuckin’ point, Tiny. She fessed up to Massive putting our product in the trunk of her car, and someone else was at Wreck’s who took it.”

  “And that person would be?” Joules asked.

  “She didn’t know them. Also, Wreck’s been seeing her sister on and off for the past two months.”

  “Who gives a fuck?” Tiny asked.

  “Considering her sister drives an Audi A3, I do.”

  The shift in Tiny’s expression was subtle, but meaningful.

  Har looked at Block. “You get a plate from last night’s footage?”

  His lips pressed together and he shook his head. “Sorry, Har. The footage makes it clear it’s an A3, but the car fishtailed where we had a decent shot of the plates, which made it too blurry.”

  He nodded. “If no one objects, we’re giving that footage to the Fire Department.”

  Roman sat back in his chair, his eyes wide on Har. “You fuckin’ serious?”

  Har nodded. “Bet your ass. Arson’s a serious crime, Roman.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that, man, seein’ as I’m the resident fire starter. I just don’t like the idea of giving them access to our feeds.”

  “Just be the single feed, Ro,” Block said.

  Tiny crossed his arms on his bulky chest. “There a reason we’re hashing this shit out while Massive and Wreck are MIA?”

  Har leaned forward. “Shouldn’t be hard to figure out man. You like being robbed? You want someone to steal from you? Because no two ways about it, they put that product in Layla’s vehicle, let some other asshole take it, and we haven’t seen any cash for it. They lied about being jumped by the Miscreants. If we’d have gone after them, it’d be on their turf, and who the fuck knows how many of us would’ve survived?”

  Tiny turned his head and sighed.

  “Now. They straggle their asses in, we’ll ask for their explanations, but I damn sure won’t trust it. Any of you want to hear Layla’s side of things, we can bring her in here, but after we’re done, she’s no longer welcome here or at any Riot event or chapter.”

  Uneasy looks were exchanged and Har spoke. “One more thing. Who sponsored Carter as prospect?”

  Tiny shook his head twice. “I did, Prez. Why do you ask?”

  “According to Layla, the light-haired prospect is in on this shit. The only prospect who fits that bill is Carter.”

  “Fuck,” Tiny hissed.

  Brute was sitting next to Tiny. He clapped him on the shoulder. “You said it, brother.”

  WRECK AND MASSIVE DIDN’T show up to the clubhouse all day. Even though both had day jobs, like most of the other brothers, Har knew that wasn’t what kept them away. He had no idea how he missed the signs of two brothers going bad.

  He knew they wanted to stick with the drugs, but so did other brothers. Wracking his brain wasn’t giving him any answers, and he needed to focus on what he could control.

  Losing two brothers this way could tear the entire chapter apart, though he knew he had eight brothers down with getting out of drugs. The only wild card was Tiny.

  Stephanie had left while he was still in church. She would be done with work by s
even, and glancing at his phone he saw it was after five-thirty. As he grabbed his keys from the dresser, he realized she never asked to get her jewelry box from his safe. He debated taking it out, but he knew it would be more secure there.

  With a shake of his head, he decided to ride home. It wasn’t that far between his place and the clubhouse.

  As the garage door opened twenty minutes later, the absence of Stephanie’s bike disappointed him even though he expected it. Her shift didn’t end for a while, but he’d grown accustomed to seeing her bike in his space.

  He left his helmet on the bike and opened the door to the house while mashing the button to put down the garage door. Closing the door behind him, he knew something was wrong. A faint scent lingered in the air. The moment he realized it was a perfume Stephanie didn’t wear, an object hit him on his head and scraped along the side of his face.

  “Fuck,” his hissed, going back on his right leg.

  He heard a swooshing sound of the object coming back toward him and he ducked.

  Rising, he planted his feet to throw a roundhouse toward the person wielding the object.

  He connected, and his gut told him he hadn’t hit a man. In the dimness of the hall, he saw a knee coming his way. He dodged it. His right hand tagged the light switch. He saw Diana wince.

  Rage like he’d never known enveloped him. He threw a jab to her lip. Taking advantage of her daze, he grabbed her by the neck and shoved her against the wall.

  “What the fuck, Diana?”

  She refused to speak.

  A faint odor came from his bedroom, but he didn’t have time for that. He wanted to jerk her neck and crack her head against the wall, but thought better of it.

  In his hesitancy, she moved her knee again, but he kicked that leg, making her yelp. He stepped close enough she wouldn’t be able to knee him in the balls.

  “Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on, bitch,” he yelled.

  Her arms came up to shove against his hold, but he held firm.

  “Not gonna ask you again, Di. What the fuck is this shit?”

  “You fucked me over,” she muttered.

  Har narrowed his eyes. “How?”

  She still wouldn’t look him in the eye.

  He sighed. “Start talking, because fuckin’ with me is not a good idea.”

  “I’m pregnant,” she snarled.

  He wanted to laugh but managed to scoff instead. “Got news for you, blondie, I used a condom the one time I was with you. So, if you’re pregnant, it’s not mine. Don’t say the condom broke, because I know better.”

  “But, I’m pregnant,” she yelled.

  Har tilted his head a touch. “Really? Is that why you threw a brick through my bedroom window on Friday? So, I’d turn that room into a fuckin’ nursery?”

  Her expression weakened, but she stayed the course. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He shook his head, chuckling. “Hard to believe, since Layla snitched on you last night.”

  She gasped. “She did not. She wouldn’t!”

  Har smiled. “People do a lot of things when their family’s threatened, Diana. And Layla’s proven herself to be less than upstanding.”

  While putting more force against her neck, with his free hand he pulled his phone from his back pocket and unlocked the screen. Then he said the words necessary to engage the voice-activated controls on his phone.

  It beeped in recognition of his voice. “Call Brute,” he ordered.

  A moment later, Brute came over the speaker, “Yo, man! You just left.”

  “Get Roman, Cynic if he’s around, and any other brothers you can round up. Leave the prospects until I know how much damage there is. I got an intruder and from the smell of things, she’s dumped something in my house.”

  “Jesus Christ, are you serious? What’s up with your crib lately?”

  He shook his head. “Get some brothers here, man, stat.”

  Diana made a last-ditch effort to knee him in the groin, but he pushed up against her brutally.

  “Not fuckin’ happening. Knock that shit off.”

  Her eyes narrowed and he heard her drawing up phlegm. He avoided it as it flew from her mouth. Using his grip on her neck, he bashed her head against the wall. She whimpered.

  “Do that again, bitch, and I’ll knock you out with my bare fists.”

  “Like to see you try, asshole,” she hissed.

  He hated hitting women, but with two attacks on his house, he would never let her go free from this. Only real problem was Stephanie’s imminent arrival. She hadn’t liked seeing Brute manhandle Layla the way he did, she’d hate seeing Diana’s limp form because of his fists.

  Things would go faster if he followed his instincts. Keeping his expression neutral, Diana never saw his right hook coming to knock her unconscious.

  As soon as her ass hit the floor, he knew what caused the stench he smelled. He pressed the button on his phone to activate it.

  In a moment Brute answered. “Har! I got as many men as I could, we’re about to mount up.”

  “Great. Send them to me. You need to hit the casino and find Stephanie. Tell her to go to the clubhouse. There’s urine and something else in my house. Not a chance in hell I’m staying here tonight, and neither will she.”

  The man who was more of a brother to him than his own flesh and blood sighed. “You got it, man. Want me to drop by after I deliver her message?”

  “Bet your ass. And if you can get a steam cleaner from a grocery store before you come by, that’d be even better.”

  He heard Brute groan before he disconnected.

  A small smile played on his lips while he moved into his bedroom, but not for long. The sight of his bed slashed to smithereens rekindled his rage. The stench of piss grew stronger and with it his rage grew again. He rounded his side of the bed to see a stain two feet in diameter on his carpet. Where she found that much urine, he would never know. Then he noticed the trail of what he thought was dirt, but it led to a sack of cow manure which had been dumped near the window.

  “That fuckin’ bitch,” he yelled.

  He yearned to punch her again, but he tamped it down before leaving his bedroom.

  He thought Stephanie’s futon might be where the two of them slept after his bedroom was cleaned. That thought died the moment he opened the door to her old room. The futon sat unfolded, but the mattress had been slashed, deep and savage. Both pillows were ripped to shreds. Stuffing sat in heaps on the center of the bed and was scattered along the floor.

  He sighed, but before he could turn on his heel, the faint scent was stronger and drew him up short. Leaning forward, he sniffed deeply, and wished he hadn’t. The acrid scent of urine hit him and he didn’t yearn to hit her again.

  He wanted to kill her, which was a first.

  That wasn’t to say he hadn’t taken a life, because he had, but it was to say it was the first time he wanted to kill someone. Cold blood or not, he wouldn’t care. This shit was uncalled for on multiple levels.

  Luckily for Diana, a knock at the door kept him from deliberating the many ways he could kill her.

  Hearing motorcycle engines, he opened the door without checking the peephole. He got a vicious surprise.

  Stephanie

  I shoved a pile of chips toward the winner, fanned the cards out on the felt face down, and spread my hands over the table before I pushed up from my seat. “Have a good night gentlemen. I’m sure Tom will take good care of you.”

  With my tip box in hand, I moseyed toward the back when to my surprise, Brute rounded the corner of a table and strode directly to me. “You go straight to the clubhouse when you’re done. Understood?”

  My eyes widened and I stared up at him.

  “All you gotta do is nod, Stephanie. You got it or no?”

  I nodded. “Why wouldn’t Har just text me this?”

  Brute’s eyes moved to the side for a moment. “He’s indisposed right now. You’ll know more when you get to the club
house. I got shit to do. Later.”

  For such a large man, he could execute an about-face and hustle out of a room like someone half his size. Watching him, I realized his size was the very reason he could move through the people. Everyone gave him a wide berth, especially with the vibe rolling off him.

  I wondered why Har was indisposed, but I trusted him and pushed it out of my mind.

  After my tips were converted to cash, I grabbed my stuff from the breakroom and rode to the clubhouse.

  On my way, I wondered how much Har had to do as President of the Riot MC. It hadn’t occurred to me to ask him about that stuff, and I felt like I had been self-centered by not asking. I made a mental note to show more of an interest in what he did.

  Chapter 21

  Like You Lookin' At Me Like That

  Stephanie

  THE GATE TO THE CLUBHOUSE was closed, but a man shoved it open as I rode up. By the time I parked my bike, the man had the gate closed again, which told me something bad was happening.

  I took off my helmet, grabbed my bag and went in through the back door.

  Sandy stood in the middle of the kitchen. Her eyes brightened upon seeing me, but her demeanor was very serious.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  She dipped her chin. “You’re gonna need to see to your man, is what’s going on.”

  I shook my head and wandered back to his room. Har wasn’t there, so I changed from my uniform into a pair of yoga pants and a fitted red t-shirt. I grabbed my sketch book and a pencil before I went back out to the common room. Shooting pool wasn’t something I did often because I found it to be too slow. If Har really wanted to shoot a game against me, I would give it another go, but otherwise I’d be happy to sit on a couch and draw.

  By the time I entered the common room, the only people there were Sandy and a prospect.

  I perched on a barstool next to Sandy. “Where’s Har?”

  A small smile curled one side of her lips. “They’re deciding what they’re gonna do with club business.”

  I nodded.

  From the other side of the bar, the prospect stood in front of me. “You want a drink?”