Respectable Riot

by Karen Renee

  “Now, where you think you’re headed?” Roman asked as he put a foot to Shapiro’s calf.

  “Jesus Christ. Fuck,” he heard Liar wheeze, then, “Thank you, Raze. I owe you huge.”

  Razor clapped Liar on the shoulder. “Hell you do. Think this draws us even, don’t you?”

  “You’re all going down,” Shapiro had the stupidity to say.

  “Now that might be the funniest thing I’ve heard all day,” Liar muttered.

  Roman looked past Beast to Liar. “That’s shock setting in, bro.”

  “Are you assholes seriously making jokes? You killed a man,” Shapiro shouted.

  Roman pulled the man to his feet. He opened his mouth to say something but Razor prowled forward, grabbed Paul Shapiro’s hand and pressed the gun into it.

  Razor held it there for a long while. “No, Paul. It was self-defense.”

  Removing the gun from Shapiro’s hand, Razor set it aside. Then he pulled out a lethal looking switchblade. “Your own self-defense.”

  All the Riot brothers were well-schooled in fights and defending themselves, but Beast had to admit Razor proved his mad skills as he plunged the blade into Shapiro’s thigh at a sharp downward angle and tore at the man’s leg.

  Shapiro cried out in pain so loud Beast could hear it over the ringing in his ears. The moment Razor pulled the blade free, blood spewed from the wound.

  Shapiro looked down at his leg in horror and then realization washed over his face. Femoral artery wounds typically meant three minutes to live. A stain, which was not blood, hit the crotch of Shapiro’s pants, and Beast saw tears trickle down the man’s cheeks.

  The sight of tears reminded him the fucker was planning to infect Janie. He whipped his phone out of his pocket, bolted from the room and went outside to his bike. Standing beside it, he dialed Roll and thanked God the man had the foresight to stand vigil at Janie’s room.

  “Yo,” Roll said, but Beast could just barely make it out.

  “Fuck, brother. Shapiro and Grind had plans to infect Janie using her IV bag. Please fuckin’ tell me nobody has fucked with that thing since you’ve been there today?”

  He heard a noise, but it was hard to tell if it was a chuckle or something else. Then Roll spoke. “They took her off the IV when Trix and I got here.”

  Beast inhaled deep. “You’re sure. She’s off the IV? Who’s giving her the meds? I only want that stout black nurse who means business giving her the stuff.”

  His hearing was coming back slowly but surely, and he heard Roll laughing at him. Loud. “Goddamn. You do have it bad. Don’t worry. I met that nurse you’re talkin’ about. She just got off-shift. But, I’ll be sure to let them know Janie’s man is determined she get only her correct meds. Tellin’ you. Grind didn’t get anywhere near here.”

  Beast growled because he didn’t believe it, but it only resulted in Roll laughing more.

  “Whatever. I’m grabbin’ a helluva quick shower, then I’m comin’ straight to the fuckin’ hospital.”

  “No rendezvous later?”

  Beast chuckled. “No need, brother. No need.”

  RAZOR WAS TUCKING HIS clean switchblade into his pocket when Beast walked back into the room.

  “You’re nuts. Fuckin’ certifiable,” Liar said to Roman, who was prowling the room as if he was looking for something.

  “Not nuts,” he replied and stopped prowling. “The bodies are gonna be found. A gunshot like the one that hit Grind could embed itself into the wall. This house is old. Wiring may or may not be faulty —”

  “You want to torch the place?” Beast asked, surprise lacing his tone even though he, especially, shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he’d been in the Biloxi Riot MC chapter with Roman for over five years before he transferred.

  If there was a sliver of a reason to set something on fire, Roman jumped on it. Worse than that, or, better than that, depending on one’s viewpoint, the man was damned good at making it look like a natural fire or a fire caused by anything other than arson.

  Roman grinned at Beast. “You know it. Seriously, though. Beautiful lakefront property like this, with so much acreage. I’ll be doing the city a favor. It’ll take forever to find buyers for this place because people will know there was a gruesome murder here.”

  Beast looked at the blood and brain splattered wall, and the pool of blood where Shapiro lay. Roman had a point. The house was an older, rambling ranch, but if it were razed a larger, modern house could sit in its place.

  “We don’t have a ton of time to argue about this. Even with roughly an acre on each side of the house, somebody had to hear those shots. I think Roman’s right,” Razor put in.

  Beast shrugged. “I’m thinkin’ so too.”

  Liar ran a hand through his hair. “Christ! Your ass needs to get back to Biloxi, Roman.”

  Janie

  I woke up when I heard a deep, thunderous belly laugh. My vision landed on Roll, whose head was tipped back and his eyes were closed with his laughter. When he righted his head his long hair was framing his face. He must not have realized I was awake because he turned his head so his voice wasn’t coming my way.

  Trixie was sitting next to me staring at Roll, her face set firmly. I turned to her. “What’s your problem, Trixie?”

  She looked to me. “You’re up. Course how could you not be. You feelin’ okay?”

  I nodded. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I think something went down, but I didn’t like what Roll had to say initially.”

  I grinned. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She glared at me. “You seriously just tell me not to ‘worry about it?’ Thought you knew me better than that. Tellin’ me not to worry is the same as tellin’ the sun not to shine.”

  I put my hand on top of her hand resting on the bed. “You’ll both shine regardless of whether you stew with worry about those bikers and their business.”

  Her lips set in a hard line. “Don’t go gettin’ sweet with me when I’m trying to be P.O.ed at my man.”

  I looked to Roll, who was off the phone and watching us intently. My eyes shifted back to Trixie. “But why? He loves you so much even I can see it.”

  “Meh,” Trixie said turning away. “You read too many damn romance novels.”

  I giggled because she was probably right.

  Before I could say anything one way or the other, my mother bustled into the room carrying a bag of take-out from Denny’s. It was close to seven in the evening, but that didn’t matter to my mother, and if I had to guess, there was a “Moons over my Hammy” in that bag. No way I would be able to eat all of it because the antibiotics and pain killers they had me on were making me nauseous, and there was a chance I wouldn’t even be able to eat some of it.

  She set the bag on the roller table, tossed her purse in a chair, and looked at Trixie and Roll. “Well, hello. I’m Janie’s mom, Carol. I didn’t think anyone would be here or I’d have ordered two other plates.”

  Roll stood while giving my mom a friendly grin. “That’s quite all right, Carol. I’m Roll, and this is my woman, Trixie. We’re friends of Janie’s. Normally I wouldn’t ask something like this, but you came in unexpectedly. Would you mind giving me a couple minutes alone with Janie?”

  An almost affronted look crossed my mom’s face, so I said, “Mom. Please. I think this has to do with Beast. I’m sure the food will still be warm.”

  At the mention of Beast’s name, my mother’s face lightened. Even though she had yet to even shake Beast’s hand, when she had come back around three that afternoon she had declared him to be perfect for me.

  At the time, I shot her a skeptical look and Dad inspected the ceiling tiles, so she explained. “I have never seen anyone be so fierce. I mean he all but manhandled Andrea to get to you when you had that wince of pain. And calling you ‘Azalea!’ I simply love it.”

  My mother gave me my love of romance novels, so it was not surprising that she loved Beast
for me because of the many ways he mimicked a romance hero.

  “Sure thing, Punky,” my mom responded to my request for a few moments alone with Roll. “I didn’t get you anything to drink. You want me to get a ginger ale from the vending machine?”

  I grinned. “Sure, Mom.”

  When she left the room, Roll closed the door behind her. Trixie stood from her chair next to me.

  Roll perched a bulky hip on the side of my bed. “That was Beast on the phone. If I read him right, he should be here within the hour. He didn’t say it outright, but I’m pretty certain your troubles are over. Well, at least where Grind and threats to your life are concerned.”

  Relief swept through me, but then my lips pursed. “Did Beast...um, do something...”

  Trixie gently grabbed my hand. “Honey. Roll’s probably not gonna tell you because that’s for Beast to share. But woman-to-woman, he’s a one-percenter even if Riot isn’t half as hard-core as most other one-percent MCs.”

  I sighed.

  Roll gave my leg a playful nudge. “Key to what she said is it’s ‘for Beast to share.’ Every MC couple’s different, so he may not share any of it with you. All you need to know right now is Grind is not a problem for you or for Beast. Also, that Shapiro man is not a problem for either of you at this point. You ask me, that’s the bigger relief. But I’m a self-admitted cynic.”

  I chuckled. “My Dad would really like you.”

  Roll winked at me. “Most people normally do.”

  My mouth dropped open and I turned to Trixie. “Is he normally this full of himself?”

  She gave me a dry look from the corner of her eye. “Not gonna answer that since I’m nearly certain it’ll set him up for some double entendre.”

  Roll grunted and stood up. “Got that right, baby. Let’s let Janie’s mother back in here.” He looked to me. “Get some rest. The sooner you’re outta here, the damn better.”

  I WAS PICKING AT THE french fries that came with my sandwich, wondering if I should tell my mother about Beast.

  My mom gave me a look, “Honey, whatever is on your mind, you can tell me.”

  I nodded. “You know, it’s strange. Beast’s been through the same thing I have but worse.”

  Mom’s chin dipped. “He’s not laying here recovering from a bullet.”

  I shook my head. “He’s lost a child too.”

  Mom’s body went straight and she leaned away from me. “Go on, because I don’t see how that can be worse for him than it was for you.”

  “He was told he was the father of a baby. He supported the mother, but they aren’t involved that way. It was a one-night-stand, but months ago he found out he wasn’t the father. He had nearly a year of bonding with a little girl he thought was his, and ...”

  Mom leaned forward. “Yes, that is hard, Honey-bunch. Very hard, but I don’t think you can say that’s worse–”

  “Mom,” I interrupted, but the harsh look coming my way shut me up.

  “What I’m saying, Janie, is that you can’t compare his experience to yours. Comparing the two does you no good whatsoever. That’s true of many things in life, honey, and I know you know it. His ordeal and yours are equally awful in my opinion.”

  I looked at the pile of greasy french fries and back to Mom. “You’re right. But it doesn’t mean I don’t admire the hell out of him for it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He had his world taken from him–”

  “And you didn’t?” Mom asked, her eyes blazing. “Honey, this is why you shouldn’t compare, but he had time with a baby. Those first smiles, the cooing sounds that become words. I know he’ll still miss out on terrible two tantrums and the first Halloween where she gets it. But you were robbed of all those things plus the first year of your baby.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. Her harsh and dramatic words scratched a wound still healing, ripping me raw, but I needed to hear it because, as usual, my mom was right. I had to stop comparing. A loss was a loss which always hurt. But losing a child, no matter the manner in which the loss was suffered, was the hardest loss to take.

  I pulled myself together emotionally. “Well, it’s still admirable that he loves a little girl so much he had to flee Biloxi and come here so he wouldn’t mess up Devin and Brianne’s chance at making a go of it together.”

  Mom’s lips pressed together. “Those two have to make a go of it for each other, not for the little one. Children don’t often benefit from parents forcing themselves to stick together. He could have stayed in Biloxi and still been a form of family to his little girl.”

  “No, Mom. The kind of man Beast is, I don’t think he could. Seriously, could you imagine Dad sticking around if he had to go from being a father to being what amounts to an uncle figure at best?”

  Mom’s head wobbled as she thought about it. “All right. I think I see your point.”

  “He tries to hide it from me, but the pain kills him.”

  Mom nodded somberly. “Yeah. I hate to say it, but it likely always will. With any luck, he sticks with you and does right by you, that pain will subside greatly. Now, eat up.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Mom! I’m not eating all this grease. The meds are making me nauseous as it is; this is only going to make it worse.”

  “What’s going to make it worse?” Andrea asked from the short hallway leading into my room.

  “Eating this food. If you haven’t eaten, you need to help me out, Andi,” I said.

  She plonked down in the chair on the other side of my bed and eyed the food. “Sure. I haven’t had dinner yet. You better do the talking though. I suspect we’ll be interrupted fairly soon.”

  My mother shot her a questioning glance. “Why’s that, dear?”

  Andi smiled a closed lip smile while she chewed a bite of sandwich. When she swallowed, she said, “Because Jim’s with David at the clubhouse and they’re showering before coming here. Actually, no, Jim’s showering and then headed home. When David gets here, I’ll head home.”

  My mom glanced between me and Andrea. “I can’t believe you girls are involved with bikers. Six months ago, someone told me that was going to happen I’d have laughed myself silly.”

  “It’s crazy stuff,” Andrea muttered.

  “Yeah, and if they would’ve mentioned my new man ran a strip club, I’d have told them they needed professional help right into their straight jacket.”

  “St–...strip club?” Mom spluttered.

  So, Dad didn’t tell her everything all the time.

  “Well...” I drawled.

  “Does your father know?”

  “Yeah, and he was surprisingly cool about it.”

  “And I’m not?”

  “You spluttered around just saying the words,” I pointed out.

  “Because you took me by surprise, missy!”

  Oh God. Her pulling out the ‘missy’ business meant she was riling herself up. “It’s only temporary though, Mom.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. He also left Biloxi because he was looking to get out of the nightlife. He used to manage a dance club.”

  “Well, I hope things work out for him. What about you, Punky? You said you’d started a new job, are they going to be accepting of you being hospitalized?”

  I hadn’t even thought about calling Bobby or James. Holding my mother’s gaze, I said, “I certainly hope so. I’ll have to call them in the morning.”

  Beast sauntered into the room, his eyes intent on me.

  Andrea chuckled, grabbed my hand and stood up. “Well, that’s my cue to leave. Thanks for sharing your dinner, Janie. I’ll be by tomorrow sometime. Probably after four.”

  “Okay,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze.

  CHAPTER 27

  Beast

  BEAST THOUGHT JANIE’S mother would never shut up. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the woman or that she was so chatty nobody could get a word in edgewise. He knew his impatience stemmed from his urge to tell Janie everything was taken
care of in a very permanent way.

  As soon as the woman pulled the door closed behind her, Beast carefully slid Janie over in her hospital bed so he could lounge next to her, even though he couldn’t hold her in deference to her shoulder wound. Once they were both situated, he told her everything that happened that afternoon and evening.

  “Roman flirted with Terri?” she asked.

  Beast bit back a chuckle because her focusing on that was unexpected. He shrugged. “I wasn’t there to see it, Azalea, but that’s what he said. Got no reason to doubt him.”

  “Roman flirted with Terri,” she repeated, but said the bitch’s name with heavy disgust. “God. I almost don’t know who to feel sorrier for, Roman or Terri, because God knows she’s never going to be fortunate enough to flirt with a man as handsome as Roman again. That serves her bitchy-ass right. But, if Roman were getting paid for doing club business, he should receive hazard pay for dealing with a person like her.”

  “Babe,” he said, squeezing her hand. “It’s over. You’re cool with that, right?”

  She looked at him like he had a screw loose. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I–”

  “Roman made sure it’s over.” He emphasized his brother’s name so she’d understand Roman used fire to do that job. “You’re down with that?”

  “As long as I don’t have to smell the after effects, yeah. Forest fires and the smell of burning wood reminds me of being pregnant, so...” she drifted off, and he squeezed her hand again.

  “Yeah. I got you. Don’t go there right now, Janie-babe.”

  She gave him a hard look, and he thought he’d touched a nerve. “You haven’t called me Country Club in a while. How come?”

  He nearly fell out of the bed, he was so surprised. Quickly, he pulled himself together. “I don’t like to dwell.”

  “Huh?”

  Leaning over her, he brushed his lips on her cheek then laid back. “Baby, I can’t afford to give you country club living. Not right now anyway. I gotta figure out what I’m gonna do full time once my six-month tenure at the strip club’s done, then I’ll be in a position to buy a house. I’m getting a cut of club profits, but we won’t be inside the fancy gates you’re used to.”