Respectable Riot (Riot MC, #6)

by Karen Renee

  “What the hell,” I snapped, the glass of wine on a relatively-empty stomach loosening my lips in the extreme.

  He raised both of his brows. “What do you mean ‘What the hell,’ but more importantly, what’s that smell?”

  “It’s my dinner, though there’s enough if you want some, too. And what I mean by ‘What the hell’ is what the hell’s with just waltzing in here like you...uh, like you practically live here even though you don’t.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head with a small smile. It was a good look, but it was also a look one would give a small child, so it raised my hackles in a big way.

  “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute,” he said.

  “‘Cute?’” I asked with as much attitude as I could throw at him.

  He had the audacity to smile at me. “Yeah. ‘Cute.’ You tell me there’s enough of your dinner I can have some too, as though you weren’t makin’ extra just for me any damn way because you knew I’d be walking back in here. But then you go and give me shit for walking right on in here, even though your actions say you were expecting me your own damn self.”

  I turned my back to him so I could pull the wine bottle from the fridge. I didn’t have time for his circular-talking overanalysis. While I poured another glass for myself, I felt the cool draft from the fridge being opened again.

  “Are you fuckin’ serious?” he asked.

  I looked over my shoulder as I re-corked the bottle. “What do you mean?”

  “You have no beer?”

  I shrugged. “Sorry. I can pour you some–”

  He swatted my butt, and I froze in surprise. “I’ll be right back, woman. You’re damn lucky there’s a grocery store so damn close. Don’t you dare eat without me.”

  Beast returned with just minutes to spare before the food was ready. I plated up a huge piece of what I called “Celery Chicken” for him, and placed a bunch of roasted asparagus spears next to it. Once I put his plate in front of him, I went back and fixed mine.

  When I sat down, he said, “This is good.”

  “Thanks,” I said, cutting up my chicken.

  “Where’d you get the recipe?” he asked around a mouthful of food. It made me shake my head, because he sounded a little bit boyish talking that way, and Trent would never have been so carefree.

  “I didn’t,” I answered.

  His brows furrowed as his head turned a little away. Looking back at me, he asked, “You didn’t?”

  I shrugged. “When Trent and I first got married, I watched Food Network while he did campaign stuff. For dinner, I made the more elaborate recipes from shows I really liked. He loved it. I learned flavors I loved and flavors that naturally go together.”

  He was looking at me funny as I ate another piece of meat. I shrugged and swallowed. “This is nothing special. I half-assed it.”

  He stared at me a good long time. “Again, this is good. But never again do I wanna hear you say your efforts are ‘nothing special.’ Don’t care if it’s your cooking, your work, or your knitting —if you even knit. Anything you do is special because you’re fucking special.”

  I bit back my smile. “You know there is this thing called ‘humility,’ David.” His face darkened, but I kept at him. “It’s not cool to act like my shit doesn’t stink.”

  “We’ll get to how you found out my first name later, but there’s no call to be humble when your so-called ‘half-assed’ cooking rocks the house. So don’t do that shit. Got it?”

  I got it, but it didn’t mean I wanted to give in. Giving him a chin lift to agree, I inhaled and caught a whiff of something I had been smelling since he came back. It was faint, but distinct because it was the scent of cigarette smoke.

  “Do you smoke?” I asked.

  His eyes were hard when he looked at me. “Used to. Why do you ask?”

  “I didn’t mean to strike a nerve, I just keep getting whiffs of stale smoke or something like it and thought maybe–”

  A sorrowful look crossed his face for a moment. Then he leaned back in his chair. “Sorry about that, Janie. Had to go to Platinum’s for some auditions, that’s why I smell like an ashtray.”

  I couldn’t hide my frown as I asked, “Auditions?”

  “Yep. Gonna be managing things at Platinum’s for six months or so, once the club fully buys out the current ownership.”

  I moved an asparagus spear with my fork so it was folded in on itself and then I stabbed it. Bringing it toward my lips, I asked, “Did you do that sort of thing back in Biloxi? Run a strip club?”

  Beast watched me as I chewed the slightly crunchy vegetable. “Yeah, no. Back in Biloxi I ran a dance club. Riot owned only a portion of it, but I was there nearly every night overseeing shit. Part of why I transferred to Jacksonville was to get away from the nightlife business.”

  I sipped my wine. “Is that why it’s only six months of handling Platinum’s Gentlemen’s Club?”

  He dipped his head at me. “Yeah. You say that name like you’ve been there or something.”

  I grinned with my lips closed. “No, but it’s hard to miss that place when you drive by it, and seeing as it’s not far from the Riot compound, I’ve noticed it.”

  His fork scraping on the plate broke the silence between us, and I realized he was done with his food.

  “You’re a heckuva fast eater, Beast.”

  The heat in his eyes was unmistakable. “Not always, Clumsy.”

  Heat curled in my belly, and I wondered again why he was flirting with me. I shook my head trying to clear it. “Okay, so, what time should I expect you in the morning? I’ll pack tonight so I’ll be—”

  He held a hand up to stop me. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, Janie. Thought you knew that.”

  My eyes went to the ceiling and back to him. “This guy is not gonna get in here at night. So, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He shook his head. “I got to sit in that ugly-ass chair while I downed some pizza on your movin’ day. If God is the least bit merciful, that couch wrapped in Barney’s hide will be just as comfortable and I’ll sleep there. So, yeah. Grind isn’t gettin’ in here, because I’ll be here. We’ll leave when you’re ready.”

  I HAD A HARD TIME SLEEPING, yet again. This bout of tossing and turning wasn’t compliments of my divorce, but the bulky biker on my violet sofa. Something about knowing he was out there tempted me, and I did not need to let my mind wander that way. The first time I woke up it was half-past midnight, and then I was up every two hours or so. The third time it happened, I grabbed my phone so I could read in bed.

  Maybe twenty minutes had passed when I heard shuffling in the hall. The bathroom door closed, and I knew Beast was using the facilities. When he wandered out of the bathroom, he paused by my open door.

  “You’re up?” he asked in a sleepy voice.

  “Yeah. Been havin’ a hard time sleeping these days.”

  A strange look stole over his face, but he turned away from me before I could figure it out. His hand went to the back of his neck and he turned back to me. “You wanna hit the road early? Or you gonna try to sleep more?”

  “Um,” I stalled.

  “Yeah, no. Get a move on, Country Club. We’ll get outta here, stop in Starke for breakfast.”

  I put my phone down. “Why not eat here? Or somewhere close by?”

  He shook his head. “Pretty sure you’re a first-time rider, so we get to Starke, that’s an hour away, you’ll be good and ready for a break, and I’ll damn sure be ready for some grub.”

  “Well, anything special I should wear? Besides jeans and boots?”

  He sucked in his bottom lip for a moment. “You got a decent jacket, wear that, and you’ll probably want to tie up your hair. Braid would be best if you can do that.”

  “Why a braid?”

  “Cause you have to wear a helmet.”

  “I don’t have one,” I blurted.

  “Got a helmet for you in my saddlebag downstairs, babe.”

  “Reall
y? Is it yours? And don’t let this go to your head, but I suspect your noggin is bigger than mine.”

  He smirked. “Not mine. Roll picked one up for Trixie back when shit was hittin’ the fan, but she never used it. It doesn’t have a shield for your face, seein’ as Trixie’s hard-core and bugs in her face or her mouth don’t faze her. You, on the other hand, no way I’m gonna let something mar your pretty face, so you’ll be usin’ one of my masks.”

  I fought pursing my lips. “I’m not that delicate, Beast.”

  “Maybe not, but–”

  “We could take my rental,” I put in.

  His disdainful look spoke volumes.

  Ten minutes later, I had my hair in a braid for the first time in years and I was wearing a light leather jacket over a stretchy scoop-neck t-shirt. We went downstairs and Beast pulled out a black helmet. As I turned it over in my hands, I saw a neon orange sticker on the back. In bold black letters, it read, “Can You See Me Now, Asshole?”

  I looked at Beast like he was crazy. “You expect me to wear this?”

  He saw the sticker and his lips tipped up. “Told you. Roll bought this for Trixie. What do you expect a hard-core biker bitch to wear?”

  I nodded once. “Okay. Point taken.” I settled the helmet on my head and strapped it under my chin.

  Beast looked at me but stopped fighting his lips tipping upwards. That gleaming white smile bothered me as much as it pleased me.

  Turned out, Beast was right. By the time we hit Starke to stop for breakfast, my butt was numb. We ate a quick but hearty breakfast and hit the road again. Almost three hours later we were stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on I-75.

  Foolishly, I thought it might give me a respite from the long ride, and I leaned away from Beast. Suddenly his arm snaked back and pulled my arm around his waist. That forced my other arm around him and with me clutched to his back, he maneuvered the bike between the lanes of crawling vehicles at a very high speed. Even as an inexperienced rider, I knew this was dangerous, and stupid to say the least.

  It lasted for what seemed like a lengthy stretch of road, but was probably only a half a mile, before he slid into a lane. The driver he cut off honked at us, but Beast pulled the bike to the right side of the lane, and suddenly we took off down the shoulder of the road. I tried yelling at him, but he either didn’t hear me or ignored me.

  When we finally pulled off at a gas station, I swung off the bike, grateful as all hell to stretch my legs. I snatched Beast’s bandana from my face and removed the helmet, putting it on the bike. He felt my eyes on him, if the expectant look on his face was any indication. I waited for him to join me on the sidewalk.

  “You got somethin’ on your mind, Country Club?”

  With a lopsided grin, I nodded. “First and foremost—”

  He pulled me flush with his hard torso. “There’s a ‘first and foremost’. God. Gonna have to brace for this.”

  “Fine. Do what you have to, but I feel compelled to let you know, on behalf of all the drivers you cut off, split lanes on, or passed on the shoulder, you drive like a colossal asshole.”

  I thought he’d be pissed, but his twinkling eyes lit with a smile. Then he swatted my jeans-clad ass. Hard. His voice sounded on the verge of laughter. “What else you got?”

  I wasn’t pleased about the swat to my ass, but I pressed onward. “Secondly, don’t let me hurt your ego or anything, but believe it or not, you’re not as important as you seem to think you are. I mean we’re not in that big of a hurry.”

  His hand left my ass, and cupped my jaw. “There’s someone very important on my bike, babe, and it ain’t me.”

  Well! That damn sure took the wind out of my sails. Luckily, I rallied. “I’m flattered you think that, but seriously–”

  “Rule number one, no bein’ serious on this trip.”

  “You can’t be–” It was on the tip of my tongue to say serious, and he knew it.

  “Probably the only thing I mean business about. Gotta get you outta your head. Not right you can’t sleep through the night, and I don’t like it.”

  “That was ‘cause of you,” I blurted.

  “Say that again?” he demanded.

  “Well, uh, I mean, I hate the idea of a guest sleeping on my couch.”

  “Woman, that couch probably cost more than any bed I’ve owned. For a couch, it was more comfortable than my bed at the compound.”

  I crossed my arms. “I should have been on it, not you.”

  That odd look from this morning came back. “I’m in your bed, you’re in it with me.”

  “You are not to be believed,” I muttered.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I saw you with that woman at Liar’s.”

  His face hardened. “You mean Steph?”

  I nodded because I didn’t trust my voice not to betray me.

  “She’s an employee, Janie. Yak invited her to that thing. Followed her onto Liar’s street. Could tell she wasn’t sure which house would be his, so I rode next to her.”

  “I see,” I murmured.

  “So do I,” he grinned. “You were jealous.”

  WE ARRIVED AT THE CONDO a little after eleven in the morning. Beast let me take a shower while he gathered uncollected mail and did a quick grocery run. He insisted on making me lunch, which consisted of grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches with potato salad and apple slices on the side.

  By two in the afternoon, I couldn’t stop yawning, and Beast shook his head at me.

  “Hate to tell you this, Janie, but there’s one bed. We’re sharing it because Gran’s couch sucks balls when it comes to sleeping on it for anything more than a nap.”

  I looked at him with huge eyes, and he again shook his head. “Chill, woman. It’s just sleep, and speaking of it, you were up awful early, so go take a nap. I’m gonna hit the gym for a couple of hours.”

  I nodded and crawled under the heavy quilt on the bed in the bedroom.

  When I woke up it was nearing dinner time, and Beast was sitting at the dinette table sorting through the mail he collected earlier in the day.

  Before I could ask him what we were eating for dinner, my phone rang. Seeing Trent’s name, I closed my eyes in defeat. I opened them on an inhale, and answered the call.

  Trent didn’t waste time with niceties. “I see Andi has bailed you out again.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re at a condo belonging to her boyfriend and some other man.”

  I debated playing dumb, but decided to give Beast a heads up. “How do you know where I am, Trent?”

  “Technology, Jane. It’s worth its weight in gold. The real question is whether he’s there with you. One thing to cheat on me. Another to do it with your best friend’s man.”

  So many responses I wanted to make to that bullshit. Instead I said, “Trent, I wouldn’t know about cheating but your insistence makes me think you do. Liar and Andi know I’m here because they loaned me the keys.”

  This was all lies, but no way was I letting him know I was here with another man. I held my silence, and just before I was going to hang up on him, he spoke. “Janie. God, I hate this. I hate all of it. Fighting with you. Not having you here. You’re my rock, Janie. I miss you.”

  He left it at that, and I was stunned. Talk about an about face. Accusing me of cheating but then wanting me back?

  I did my best to gentle my tone, but that was a tall order in light of his accusations. “I don’t like the fighting either, but we’re over, Trent. If you think I’m your rock, you should’ve proven it months ago. Have a nice evening.”

  I ended the call and then launched a web browser so I could figure out how he knew where I was. There was no doubt in my mind it was tied to my phone. In no time, I saw where to go in my settings to see if there was GPS enabled on my phone. Sure enough, mine was activated.

  “Son of a bitch,” I muttered to the screen.

  “Talk to me, Janie. What’d that asshole say to you? And the way you’re goin’ at
that screen, I assume he’s tracked you using your phone.”

  I slid into a chair next to Beast at the table. “Yeah. And the asshole had the gall to accuse me of cheating on him with Liar. Accusing me of that shit is bad enough, but to think so damn little of me as to accuse me of doing it to my best friend, too. Total bullshit!”

  Beast stared at me for a long time. He was thinking about something, and my gut told me I didn’t want to cut into his thoughts because it seemed what he was thinking about was weighty. Knowing this place was his Gran’s, I thought she might have been on his mind.

  “Have you ever–” he cut himself short, his face twisting with regret and second thoughts. He turned, looking at the wall, then he faced me. “Fuck it! Dad always said to me not to get too hard or down on myself.”

  “Okay,” I drawled after he paused for a long time.

  “Okay, so he told me that when you tell yourself shitty things repeatedly you’ll start to believe them, and it all self-fulfills.” I grinned at him and he squinted. “What are you smilin’ about?”

  “Just, you nearly sound like a self-help book. Or your Dad does. It’s...endearing.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not endearing, and when I get done, you’ll think I’m any damn thing but that.”

  I blinked at him, thinking he was wrong and letting it show on my face. “So, you don’t tell yourself bad things about yourself,” I prompted.

  “Right, but the point is whether it’s you or a bad parent, or a fucked-up spouse, get told something enough, you do it.”

  I thought I knew where he was headed, and my brows crinkled. “Beast.”

  “He accused you of bein’ with Li down here.”

  I nodded. “I’m stunned he knows the place belongs to you guys.”

  “Public record.”

  “Right. But back to your idea. He’s accusing me because he’s done that himself.”

  “What the fuck did you say?” he growled his question.

  “He’s cheated on me. I–”

  Anger laced his voice. “And you didn’t kick his ass out?”