Respectable Riot

by Karen Renee

  “They got the guy who did it though,” Blood spurred.

  “Yeah, but in my opinion, not really.”

  “What do you mean?” Volt asked.

  Beast leaned forward from the wall. “Janie’s ex, or soon to be ex, has a campaign manager–”

  “The guy who approached the condo,” Liar interrupted.

  “Yeah. Well, this asshole, Shapiro, after meeting me, got busy. Real busy, seeing as he not only told Trent about my name bein’ on a child’s birth certificate, but he found Devin’s brother, Alphonse. Apparently Alphonse has some mental issues.”

  “Who’s Devin? And for fuck’s sake, what’s a child got to do with any of this?” Patch asked, with slipping patience.

  Beast shook his head. “Devin is Katherine’s real father, the child I thought was mine, but isn’t. Alphonse is his brother, who stays with their mother. She consulted with Alphonse’s therapist and they decided to hold off telling Alphonse that Devin has a child. When Alphonse went missing, the only thing they found was Shapiro’s business card. Devin had called me Friday night because he knew I was in the same area code listed on the card.

  “At the time, I had no idea what the asshole’s last name was, but since Janie was sitting next to me, when she heard me mention meeting a douche named Paul, she supplied the last name.”

  “Why shoot Janie?” Razor asked.

  Beast’s gut clenched. “That’s the fuck of it. The detective told me after questioning Alphonse, he admitted Janie was never the target. The bullet was aimed at me.”

  Roll’s deep voice asked, “Are you sure you were the target?"

  A chill shot down Beast’s back because he remembered Roll being a voice of reason when Andi was in trouble.

  “What do you mean, big man?”

  Roll speared him with serious eyes. “Hasn’t hit yet they’ve split. She’s taken out, he gets insta-coverage, maybe a life insurance payout, but I’m cynical like that. Bonus, Grind can’t lord the cheating over his head.”

  Beast rubbed the stubble on his cheeks. “Why involve Alphonse and me then?”

  Roll tilted his head to concede the point. “Yeah, that’s where shit falls apart.”

  “Why you at all?” Cal asked.

  Beast allowed himself a slow blink before he refocused on Cal. “Honest to fuck, I don’t know. What I do know is that I want to get my hands on Paul Shapiro; and while we may have neutralized the shit Grind made Palmer do to the club, my gut tells me Grind’s still a threat that needs to be taken out.”

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” softly boomed a voice from the opposite side of the room, and Beast realized Rage was seated at the table.

  Even sitting down, it was noticeable he was holding himself a little stiffly and Beast suspected that was why his words were a soft boom. He loved talking about taking people out, but at this stage of his recovery there was no way he could participate in it. Didn’t mean he still didn’t harbor a high level of ill-will for assholes like Grind.

  “Simmer down, Rage,” Yak chided.

  “Fuck that,” Rage muttered back.

  “All right. Beast, what did the cop tell you during your questioning?”

  His jaw clenched just thinking about the words. “Asshole said visiting a mentally unstable man to tell him he had a niece was not a crime. I pointed out Shapiro went there with malicious and manipulative intentions, but apparently that’s not a fuckin’ crime either.”

  “Don’t believe in the system,” Cal muttered.

  “Let’s not get Cal started on that,” Volt said, and looked to Beast. “Since you went to that bar in Mayport, Beast, the info you gathered was good. We’ve had eyes on Grind. Tonight should be his last night at the Kernan apartment. You want in, we’re planning to ambush him tonight.”

  Beast wanted in in a big way, but Roll’s words were still tumbling around in his mind. His gut told him at this point Shapiro was the bigger threat.

  “I want in, but I got a feeling Shapiro’s a worse threat, and Roll’s ideas solidified that.”

  Volt lifted his chin. “We’re not movin’ in on Grind until well after nine tonight. You got ten hours to sort shit with Shapiro. You need any of us to take your back?”

  He felt Liar’s eyes on him, and could see Roman from his peripheral vision. “Know Liar and Roman are with me whether I want ‘em or not. Would love to take Rage with me, but,” he turned his gaze to the still sitting-stiffly Rage, “sorry brother, no way you’re ready for this.”

  Rage shot him a dirty look, but when he lifted his chin to Beast, he knew the fire in the man’s eyes was all bluster.

  “I’m in. Anyone who sets a woman up to get shot, intentional or not, is gonna get a face full of my fists,” Razor said.

  Roll nodded to Beast. “You want me, you got me too, but I’m thinkin’ someone needs to stick by Janie. Trixie’s already fit to be tied I didn’t drop her at the hospital, so I’ll be there until or unless you need me.”

  “’Preciate it,” Beast said.

  Volt cut in with the details for ambushing Grind later that night. Beast had told Janie he would be back at night, but it was coming clear that would be very late at night. If the nursing staff tried to keep him from his woman again, Beast feared he’d be in jail by midnight. He would have to cross that bridge when he got there.

  An hour later, Roman, Liar, Razor, and Beast were sitting astride their bikes on the far edge of the parking lot for the small office park housing Trent Palmer’s campaign office. Compliments of the I.T. firm Janie was working for, and their hacking capabilities that Riot paid a mint for, the brothers had a thorough dossier on Paul Shapiro. That dossier told them the older model gold Mercedes sedan parked in front of office was Paul’s.

  Staring at the boring brick building, Beast adjusted himself on his bike. The man in him wanted to walk right into the building and confront the weaselly bastard. The smarter part of him said he needed to hold off. Something seemed wrong, but he could not put his finger on it.

  Watching the rare car driving by the area, some of his father’s words came to him. Everyone has a weakness. Being a poker dealer, his father immediately pointed out most gamblers’ weakness lies in the chance and the risk-reward allure. For an alcoholic, it’s the drink or the oblivion wrapped up in partying. Both of those were addictions, but Beast had no doubt Paul fucking Shapiro had a damned weakness.

  That was the crux of his unease. He couldn’t figure out what Shapiro’s weakness was, and worse, he wasn’t sure how he possibly could before Janie might be hurt again.

  A shiny red Lexus coupe slid into the space next to Paul’s Mercedes. The woman who unfolded from the car looked familiar, and he knew she was the bitch Janie put into her place at Firehouse.

  She turned to the car as she bleeped the locks. Shapiro was standing in her space before she could face the sidewalk.

  He knew before he saw ‘skeezy Paul’ kiss the woman’s cheek.

  He knew she was his weakness. The way he came running to the bitch, he had her, but didn’t know how to keep her.

  “Who’s that?” Roman asked in a low voice, while he slowly tucked his phone away.

  Beast grinned at him; and it felt evil, so he knew it looked evil. “That’s the weakness. And she’s a world-class bitch Janie cut verbally Friday night.”

  “Man, we don’t fuck with women,” Razor muttered.

  Beast grinned. “Yeah, but he doesn’t know that.”

  TERRI WAS STILL INSIDE Shapiro’s office fifteen minutes later, but Beast didn’t expect that to last much longer. He put his keys in his bike’s ignition, then looked to his brothers. “Roman and I are headed to Shapiro’s house—”

  “I’m following the bitch. She doesn’t know me, maybe I can get info outta her?” Roman interrupted.

  “No, man. Bitch like her, no way they’ve given her information. You and I need to hit his house, and wait for him to get there. Liar, you and Razor follow his ass. He heads to the country club, let us know.” />
  Razor shook his head. “I think Roman’s right. He approaches without his cut, he might get some info from her.”

  Beast pressed his lips together, thinking about it. “She gets spooked and texts or calls Paul, what then?”

  Liar entered the conversation. “Yeah, he’ll know we’ve followed her, might spook him too.”

  Beast shook his head. “She’s collateral damage, and you said it yourself, we don’t fuck with women. Plus, how do we even know where she’s going?”

  Roman lowered his chin at Beast as if he had asked a stupid question. “Stuck-up woman like her, with that car. No way she’s headed home. My guess, she’s going to get her nails done or heading out for a drink. The only potential hurdle is if she goes for that drink inside the country club gates, but even then, I’ll find a way inside.”

  Razor nodded, but speared Roman with an intense stare. “You better bring your A-game to pump her for information.”

  Roman smiled a grin so sly it was nearly evil. “Don’t you worry about that. Bitch like her with her head up her ass, yeah. I can handle her.”

  Five minutes later, they watched as Terri left the office. Razor and Roman followed her a minute after she left. Seeing that woman, with her brassy brown hair that clearly came out of a bottle and her tight facial features, and remembering half the stuff she said to Janie made his stomach turn. Beast didn’t envy Roman flirting with her.

  He turned to his cousin. “You cool to hang here alone, Li?”

  “Yeah. It’s just after four on a Sunday. How much longer can this guy work?”

  Beast shrugged. “I don’t know. Considering all the shit he’s pulled off in the span of five days, I’d say he might be at it until six or seven.”

  THE HOUSE WAS OFF DOCTOR’S Lake Drive, a road that ran parallel with a large body of water. There were railroad tracks to the right and waterfront neighborhoods to the left, but five miles down the road it became single drives leading to extremely large homes. Shapiro’s mailbox had small white circle reflectors on the post and that was it, which in the dark would make the drive nearly imperceptible.

  Beast didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he couldn’t believe his luck. The man’s house was large to the point of rambling and surrounded by over an acre of woods on both sides. He parked his bike to the side of the house opposite where Shapiro would drive up to the home.

  Roman and Razor joined him an hour after Beast got there. He and Roman sat in uncomfortable matching wing chairs in the cramped musty living room waiting. Razor, wearing leather gloves, was in the study, rummaging through files. Before they had come to the house, Beast had picked the front door lock, disarming the alarm using the code provided in the dossier. He then rounded up three guns Shapiro had hidden throughout the house.

  Those two had shown up, and to his surprise, they reported Terri blathered to Roman.

  A shit-eating grin spread on Roman’s face. “Laid on the Cajun charm and she sang like a sad canary. She was nursing a Long Island Iced Tea, and I told her where I’m from that’s a party drink, why was she drinkin’ alone? Claimed she did something for money, and it helped, but not enough. She found another man to help her out, but now he’s giving her grief. Thinks she’s involved with a thug.”

  Roman paused to clutch his chest dramatically.

  He chuckled. “Problem is, she doesn’t know anyone named Grind, she said. Outright said it to me. God bless a heavy-handed bartender.”

  Razor had entered the room to dump a manila folder on the coffee table. “More like God bless Ben Franklin, seein’ as your ass bribed the barkeep to go so heavy-handed with her next drink, which she only needed because you knocked over her first round. Jesus, you’re lucky you got your looks to fall back on, Roman.”

  “Don’t be jealous. Beast already rounded up the guns, what are you lookin’ for? What use do we have with a bunch of files?”

  Razor cut him a sharp look. “She said she was having problems paying bills. I don’t know what shit’s gonna go down when he gets here, but we got the proof he’s paying bitches off to hold it over his boss, that might be another leg up for us.”

  Beast should’ve thought of that. Before he could offer to help out, Razor said, “I’m nearly done. I’ll be back there until I hear activity out here. He sees there’s three of us, he’ll bolt.”

  For the past ten minutes, they had kept the lights off, but the sun was setting fast, leading Beast to wonder what was holding Shapiro up. Fifteen minutes ago, Liar had texted that he was following him home. If he didn’t show soon, Beast wasn’t going to get his licks in with Grind, and God knew Beast needed to hit that asshole something fierce.

  A key in the lock pulled him from those thoughts. Roman moved fluidly from the chair to the couch, so he was in Shapiro’s direct line of sight. Per the plan, Beast moved into the kitchen, which was off the living room. When Paul opened the door, the living room would be the first thing he saw, and odds were he wouldn’t think twice about the kitchen.

  Shapiro opened the door, reached inside, and flicked on a light before he stepped in and turned to close the door.

  He only noticed Roman in the house when he wheeled around from the door.

  “Who the fuck are you? Get out before I–”

  Roman smiled. “That ain’t gonna happen, man.”

  Beast heard Shapiro rustling in his pockets, and guessed he wanted his cell, so Beast stepped up behind him.

  “No need to call anyone else to our party, Paul.”

  His head turned just enough to see Beast out of the corner of his eye. Paul opened his mouth to ask a question, but Beast took hold of Paul by the hair and shoved him into a wing chair. Shapiro struggled against Beast’s hold.

  When he recognized Beast, he stilled. “Well, you’re finally going to be dealt with.”

  Beast squinted at the man, but before he could ask what he was referring to, Roman spoke.

  “He’s ‘dealt with’, then so is Terri.”

  Shapiro went from still to stiff as a board. “Terri has nothing to do with this.”

  “Neither does Janie,” Beast said.

  “That’s what you think,” Shapiro said.

  They heard a Harley coming up the drive and Shapiro smiled a nasty smile.

  “Don’t know what you’re so happy about–”

  Beast was cut off by Shapiro.

  “My partner in crime’s here, and he can get his revenge on the Riot MC.”

  Beast looked to Roman. No way Grind partnered with this asshole.

  “Where’s Terri?” Shapiro demanded.

  Roman stood from the couch. “What’s Janie got to do with this?”

  Shapiro’s eyes darted between Beast and Roman. “Seeing as Grind’s going to kill you anyway, once Janie dies of complications from a bullet wound, Trent’s polls will hit the roof. Especially with the older Republican voters. He gets in office, Grind and I get the real money from the cannabis companies.”

  “Well, Grind shoulda sold you a bridge. You think he’s in with those companies, you’re a bigger dumbass than we realized.”

  Beast turned at Razor’s voice, and saw him standing in the mouth of a hallway off the living room.

  Liar sauntered up to Razor’s other side, when headlights flashed into the living room windows.

  “Well, he couldn’t have wasted more time,” Shapiro muttered.

  CHAPTER 26

  Beast

  GRIND WALKED IN THE front door, speaking. “Let’s get this done, Pauly-boy. I got things to do tonight.”

  Beast saw Grind’s eyes dart to his hand holding Shapiro to the chair. Then Grind’s eyes went to Roman. When he couldn’t place Roman, his dark eyes caught on Razor and Liar.

  “Where’s Terri?” Shapiro repeated his question.

  When the silence stretched, Shapiro cut his eyes to Grind. “They have Terri.”

  Grind shot Shapiro a look, then took in Beast, Liar and Razor. “These fucks are all about pussy, but they never bring snatch into
this shit.”

  “Unlike us,” Shapiro said.

  “Christ! You’ve got a big mouth,” Grind shouted.

  “Did you take care of it?” Shapiro asked.

  “No, dumb ass. And don’t talk about that shit with these fuckers.”

  “You’re gonna kill them, so why not tell them you’ve infected Janie’s I.V. bag?”

  Grind stepped fully into the room, and Beast heard Razor and Liar move in from behind.

  “You dumb motherfucker,” Grind bit out.

  Beast yanked Shapiro out of the chair. Holding him by his shirt collar, he barked in his face, “What the fuck did you do?”

  The nasty smile returned. “I didn’t do anything.”

  Grind’s arm came up holding a gun pointed at someone behind Beast, so either Razor or Liar was in the line of fire.

  “Stop right there, asshole. Put the phone away. You aren’t calling anybody. Time I got the retribution my brothers damn well deserve. Know you’re the one who took out Bush. Seein’ as Prank was found in the same place as Leventon, who had a hard-on for your woman, pretty fuckin’ sure you killed him, too.” He shifted the gun barrel an inch, and spoke again. “And Razor, you’ve always been a pain in the ass. Should’ve hit you harder and cut you deeper the night we stripped your patch.”

  Beast didn’t think twice about it. Still holding Shapiro by the collar, he threw the man into Grind, forcing his shooting arm to go wide, and both men went down. Grind was surprised, but recovered faster than Beast would have liked and he still had hold of his gun.

  “Time to die, Ginger,” Grind said, and Beast looked to his side to see Liar in the line of Grind’s aim, but there was a shot before Beast saw the blast of Grind’s gun.

  With two gunshots in such close proximity, Beast’s ears felt like tiny gongs were being pounded inside his head. Grind’s body had fallen on the floor, a perfect round hole in his forehead. Based on the splatter on the walls, the exit wound was as ugly as they got. Shapiro was scrambling across the floor, his face gray, and he was swallowing repeatedly.