by Lisa Ladew
Flint growled under his breath. “You may have J fooled, but I know different.”
Right. Sure you do. “You know exactly shit, Flint.”
A quiet challenge followed him. “Guess you’ve told Gemma all about the kid and his mom at that motel, then.”
Riot stiffened before he could stop himself, then slung a leg over his bike and cast Flint a sneering glance. “Whatever, Yogi.” But the sweat dripping down his back didn’t lie.
Chapter 21 - Stonewalling Riot
Gemma was just finishing an afternoon snack when she heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. She opened the door with a smile, hoping to see Riot, but was greeted by Flint carrying a half-dozen grocery bags instead. Gemma reached out. “Here, let me help.”
She took a couple of bags amid Flint’s protests and set them down on the counter. The big bear of a man looked sideways at her, almost guiltily, as he unloaded items into the refrigerator. Gemma took it for as long as she could before asking, “What, Flint? Why are you looking at me like that?”
One thing Gemma had learned about Flint, aside from the fact that he was just a basic good guy, was that once he decided to talk, he didn’t mince words. “You’re a really smart person.” Gemma smiled. But her face fell as he continued. “So why do you like Riot?”
Usually she would have gotten defensive on Riot’s behalf, but Gemma could tell Flint was sincerely worried. She shrugged. “We don’t see the same man, I guess.”
Flint huffed and rubbed at the scar on his neck. “I only see a cat.”
Gemma’s back straightened in anger. Flint held up his hands to head her off. “I get that you say he was a great guy in high school, but I don’t think he’s that guy anymore, Gemma. I’m sorry, but I don’t.”
She wasn’t backing down, but Gemma tried to keep her voice light. “Because he went to prison?”
Flint said nothing, just moved to the pantry and started filling the shelves with boxes and cans. Gemma watched his jaw work with unsaid words and her heart sank. There was more to it.
Taking a deep breath, Gemma tried to treat this like any other story, tried to set her feelings and presumptions aside and look objectively at the evidence. She caught Flint’s guilt-ridden eyes and asked the question she most needed answered. “What have you seen?”
Flint stiffened. “J told me not to tell anyone until we knew the whole story.”
Gemma spotted an angle, and she grinned at the big bear. “Who’s better for that job than me, Flint? Seriously.”
But he still wouldn’t budge. Shit, he’s not going to do it. He’s not going to tell me what he knows. Gemma looked Flint in the eye and all her cool detachment went out the window. She begged without a second thought. “Please, Flint. Help me figure him out.”
She swallowed, her throat so tight with desperation Gemma couldn’t say the rest. Couldn’t admit that she was falling in love with Riot all over again, and he was just as unavailable as he’d always been. And if it's all going to come crumbling down around me, I need it to be sooner rather than later. But she could see in Flint's eyes that he understood.
Five minutes later she was on her way, the address Flint had given her programmed in her phone, Flint’s side of the story in her head, and finding answers the only thing on her mind.
* * *
Gemma eased her car into the parking lot of the cheap motel and scanned the spaces for Riot’s motorcycle. And there it was, just as Flint had said, in front of the last door on the left. Where Flint had seen him with a woman and a child he said appeared to be close to Riot. She parked thirty feet away, in the shadow of an overhanging willow tree, and debated her next move.
Never in her romantic life had Gemma been the jealous type. If a man tried to play her by fucking with someone else, she cut strings quick. No games, no what’s-she-got-that-I-don’t, just write ‘em off and get gone. But that wasn’t an option here. If Riot was with someone else - Lord, if he had a child with someone else - Gemma needed to know who, why, for how long, and how much of their hearts were involved. Because hers was leaning all-in, whether she allowed it or not.
She tapped her fingernails on the steering wheel and chewed her lower lip, weighing options. She could just wait here for Riot to come out so that she could ask her questions, but then he might shuffle her away from whatever or whoever was in that hotel room and she might not get the answers she needed. Or she could knock on the door and see what happened. Or you could treat this the same way you would any other story and sneak your ass up to that window.
Gemma got out of the car. Her summer wedges were not as stealthy as she would have liked as she walked across the concrete towards Room 6, and Gemma wound up literally on her tiptoes, trying not to make a sound. Her floral maxi dress wound around her ankles, threatening to trip her. Note to self: next time, take a moment to dress for intrigue. Ah, who am I kidding? The heels always win.
The curtains were mostly drawn, but there was a sliver of an opening, and it was late enough in the day that there were lights on inside. Gemma didn’t see any people, but she saw a bed with a saggy mattress scattered with cheap plastic dinosaurs and dump trucks. So Flint was right about the kid he said he saw. Gemma’s confidence in Riot took a dip. She leaned to get another angle.
A sofa came into view, then a woman’s back in a faded pink t-shirt. Gemma froze for that moment and let it sink in. Riot was in there with a woman. And that is fine, dammit. I’ve got no claims on the man, and judging by those toys, maybe she does. But after the way he’d looked at her two nights ago Gemma had thought…
No. Fuck that weak-ass shit. Even as angry tears sprang to her eyes, Gemma was not having it. He is not yours. You are not special to him. Now stop crying over his triflin’ ass and shut down his game, girl.
In her distraction she didn’t notice right away when the woman’s body began to move and she sat back on the couch, her face suddenly brought into view. Gemma pulled back like a shot, turning to scoot around the corner of the building as fast as she could in her impractical shoes, just in case the woman had seen her, too, and came out to investigate. Gemma’s heart was racing like a mouse on crack, and not just because of her near-miss.
No. She knew that face.
Gemma listened for a minute but the door didn’t open, so it was a good bet she wasn’t about to get busted. She relaxed against the motel’s cinder block wall and pulled her smartphone from her purse. She’d dug up the public records of Riot’s conviction the morning after he took her to Resperanza, including witness statements, and sent it to her own e-mail, but she hadn’t had a chance to look at it yet. Now she did.
She didn’t even have to get past the first two pages. Yep, there she is, in black and white. Third witness for the prosecution: Faith Bolton. So what the fuck was Riot doing hanging out in the hotel room of the woman who’d been instrumental in getting his ass thrown in prison for ten years?
No, this didn’t make sense at all. What possible reason could he have? Gemma let her mind roam and it came back with a few possibilities. Blackmail, for one. Maybe the woman had something else on him?
There’s only one sure way to find out, so you might as well get to it. Gemma pushed off the wall, slid her phone into her purse, and made her way back to the door of Room 6, with its peeling paint and foggy peephole. Gemma took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and knocked.
A young male voice from inside, very young, shouted out excitedly, “Who is it?”
Gemma heard Riot’s serious voice say, “I got it, buddy,” and she braced herself for impact, reminded herself not to look at him right away, but at the rest of the room. To take in as much information as she could before Riot slammed the door in her face.
The door opened and Gemma heard Riot curse and then his shoulders blocked her view, but not before Gemma got an eyeful of a blond boy playing on the floor near the feet of the woman on the couch. His green eyes met hers through the thick glasses he wore, and he was just beginning to smile when Riot shuffled out the door and
closed it behind him. “Gemma, what are you doing here?”
She couldn’t answer. Is that little boy-? Are you his-? Gemma looked up at Riot’s face, at his clenched jaw and hard eyes, and stuttered out the only question she could think of that wasn’t overtly offensive. “How old is he?”
Riot looked at her for a few seconds, his jaw working, as if he couldn’t decide whether to tell her. Finally, he spat the words out. “He’s three. He’s small for his age.”
And finally Gemma started to breathe again. Because he couldn’t be Riot’s child. Of course he couldn’t. Riot had been in prison three years ago. She scanned the face of the man standing in front of her, her mind screaming in protest, still demanding answers. So why does he have your eyes?!
A memory flashed through Gemma’s mind, one she’d worked hard to remove from her everyday musings. Of hard green eyes and the sweet smell of cheap wine and hot breath.
But before she could fall down that rabbit hole, her phone rang. Gemma whipped the device out of her bag, her eyes still locked on Riot’s, his guarded and serious.
It was Jameson. He didn’t waste a breath. “I got some intel from Riot this morning, a couple of places we could check. One is a series of caverns, the other is an abandoned gold mine by the Casar Quarry.”
Gemma’s mind zinged. “The cops in Chattanooga said something about some of the women’s belongings having traces of gold dust on them!”
Jameson shot back. “I’ll see if Dario can confirm.” Gemma heard a beep as the line went dead.
Confirm? Confirm what? As far as she was concerned they had their answer. Gemma pulled up the map app on her phone and searched for the gold mine’s location as she slowly backed away from Riot. “We’ll talk later.”
But Riot was following Gemma, stalking towards her as she turned and headed for her car. “Where are you going?” he asked.
She kept walking.
Chapter 22 - Inciting Riot
Riot stayed right on Gemma’s ass - and not just because of the way it bounced under that flowy floral dress she wore - as she passed his motorcycle and crossed the cracked, bleached asphalt of the motel’s parking lot, making straight for her car. The evening sun bounced off her glossy black curls, warmed her skin with a golden light. Riot’s breath hitched in his chest. Great Cat, she’s stunning. For a split-second he was so distracted by the poetry of Gemma in motion that he forgot he had to stop her.
But he couldn’t let her walk away, not after the half of the phone conversation he’d heard. Not a fucking chance. “You’re going to the gold mine? You can’t go there alone.” Hell, he didn’t want her going there with half the National Guard, if it was a nest of vampires. As it stood now, The Cause had no idea what that even meant. She could be walking into a massacre!
But Gemma was still striding toward her car where it sat under a willow tree, the weeping branches swaying in the light mountain breeze. She eyed Riot over her shoulder with a disbelieving look, “Watch me.”
Fear rose up in Riot like it hadn’t in twelve years. He took long strides and put himself in front of Gemma, between her and her car, forcing her to stop and look at him. “You could get yourself killed.”
She rolled her eyes and scoffed at him. “I won’t even go inside. I just want to get a look at it.” She sidestepped Riot, started to walk around him, and he suddenly understood that in one fundamental way Gemma was just like him: she did what she thought was right, and consequences be damned.
Riot realized there was only one thing to do with a woman as stubborn as he was. He sighed and snagged Gemma’s hand as she passed, linking their fingers together. “I’ll take you there.”
Her car wouldn’t handle the roads they were going to travel, and he wasn’t carrying his spare helmet, so Riot fastened his own onto Gemma’s head, making sure it was good and snug. He stepped back to get on the bike and caught a full view of her tiny body, wrapped in one long column of floral fabric, his big round helmet resting on top. Riot’s heart gave a little whine.
They climbed onto his bike, Gemma showing a lot of leg as she hiked up her dress. Riot drew her hands firmly around his waist. “You ever ridden before?” he said over his shoulder. Gemma shook her helmeted head. “Just pretend you’re glued to me.” He caught Gemma’s grin through the face shield and faced front before she could see his smile. Enjoy it while you can, asshole, he told himself. It ain’t going to last.
And just like that all the answers he couldn’t risk coughing up lodged in the back of Riot's throat with a sour taste. He was going to have to tell her something.
The Casar gold mine was on the same side of the gorge as Shady Pines, the closest town to where they were now, but deeper in the woods. The supply roads that ran back there had once been instrumental in populating these parts, but now it was just a maze of roads to nowhere, to abandoned mines and defunct quarries, stripped of all their valuables, including the people who’d worked there. Riot watched the shiny black of his bike’s chassis turn orange with the dusty clay his wheels kicked up as they left the pavement and started into the backwoods.
After a few miles, a road sign for the mine glinted in the setting sun and Gemma’s hand shot out to point at it. Riot nodded and tucked her arm back around his waist to keep her secure, pointing his own hand at a bluff above them where they’d be able to see everything. Gemma patted his chest. Riot smiled, he couldn’t help it. He loved her on the back of his bike.
Five minutes and a few turns later, Riot parked and pointed to the nearby bluff. “You should be able to see it about five hundred yards that way.”
Riot felt pretty confident they were far enough away to keep her from feeling the pull. After all, she hadn’t jumped off the bike when they passed the turn. That was good. Better would have been if you’d told J you were bringing her here.
Riot kicked himself for the oversight; it wasn’t a natural thing for him to be a team player. He pulled out his phone to remedy the problem, but… Figures. No bars. His gut gave a twist of apprehension. It’s nothing, man. You let her get a look and then you get her home, let J handle the rest. It’ll be fine.
Gemma was right at the edge of the bluff, looking out at the old mine far below. She took out her phone and put it in camera mode, zooming in and taking pictures as Riot wandered down the road the way they’d come and around a slight curve.
At first he thought he was hearing an animal in the brush, but after another minute Riot became convinced it was footsteps. Probably just a hiker, but… He stopped walking and turned, started back up the road towards Gemma. Only then, when she wasn’t in his line of sight, did he realize how far down the road he’d walked.
And at just that moment a breeze came up from behind him, carrying the scent of pine and bitter herbs along with it. Shit! Riot broke into a run. Get back to her! Now!
Riot heard heavy feet running behind him as he came around the slight bend and spotted his bike, but no Gemma. Fuck! Where did she go? He stopped and looked in all directions but didn’t see a trace of her.
The footsteps slowed behind him and Riot turned to face the bloodsucker, his heart beating so loud he bet the fucker’s mouth was watering for a taste. Cruel, dark eyes looked back at him, set in the craggy face of a man who appeared to be a fit fifty or so. The vampire wore a pale pink long-sleeve golf shirt and tan leather gloves over his tan linen trousers and loafers, a wide-brimmed casual hat shading his face from the waning light. If it wasn’t for the smell, I’d think somebody’s dad took a wrong turn in his golf cart.
Still angling for a way out of this, Riot looked to one side and saw the sharp wall of cliff leading to the bluff above; in the other direction, ten feet of road. Then open air. He was boxed in. Gemma, too, wherever she was.
The country club bloodthief kept up the friendly act as he waved a gloved hand in Riot’s direction. “Hi, there. You lost? This is priva-”
But that was as far as he got. A ball of green light launched from the bluff above them and landed on the vampire, knoc
king him to the ground with a grunt. Riot spotted the floral fabric of Gemma’s dress as she and the vampire rolled tumbling down the road. Away from him.
Riot shifted immediately, heart in his throat, leaving his shoes and ruined clothes behind to chase the two combatants. To catch them. To be right by Gemma’s side before she even knew she needed him. His paws avoided every rut, every rock with absolute surety, never missing a step.
He skidded to a stop when Gemma and the vampire did, too, her slender legs straddling the bloodsucker’s waist. She had her knife in her hand and was ready to strike, but the vampire had hold of her arms. Riot gave a feral growl and launched himself in the fight.
Riot caught one arm in his mouth and bit down hard, raking his claws at the monster’s chest, the screams hurting his ears. Thick, sickly blood ran into his mouth, but Riot didn’t let go as Gemma wrestled her weapon free of the vampire’s failing grip. The green glow moved as she lifted the knife high and then brought it down.
And then all around him was red light, spilling from the vampire’s mouth and chest and the wounds in his arms. Riot spat out the ruined flesh and pushed back with his paws, turning to nudge Gemma away as well.
Instead of turning to old, gray bones, this vampire’s carcass passed that state. Zoomed right by it and kept going, until his preppy clothes collapsed on top of the ash they contained, and even his skull degraded to dust that was blown away in the wind.
Gemma pulled away from him, a ferocious look in her dazed eyes, her ripped dress hanging in tatters from her shoulders. She stared over the edge of the bluff at the gold mine almost a half-mile away. “We have to kill them.”
Ah, shit. There was no way Riot was letting her take on a nest. They’d both be dead before they made it in the door. He sent a thought to Gemma, forceful, allowing no argument. No Way.
And for the first time ever Gemma deliberately entered Riot’s mind, her hard voice standing firm. I’m going. Her amber eyes locked on Riot’s for a beat before she turned to run down the road towards the mine.
