Foolish Riot (Riot MC Book 5)

by Karen Renee

  He stared at me for a long time, so long I thought he was going to grab his cut and leave. To my surprise, he turned and walked to the bathroom, muttering as he went. “Gonna shower.”

  ***

  When I woke up, I could smell Roll’s spiced cologne and the beige walls of my bedroom were cast with a hint of orange from the sunrise. It struck me that I had managed to fall back to sleep while he showered last night, but then again the sound of rain or water falling always had an effect on me. Roll was not curled into me at all, so I slowly got out of the bed. Unfortunately, my bed was of the economic variety, which meant if anything or anybody moved, you felt it, and Roll was no exception.

  “It’s mornin’,” he croaked then cleared his throat. “Time to admit to bein’ an idiot like you said earlier this morning.”

  I rounded the bed. “How ‘bout after I take a piss, ‘kay?”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “’Kay, but lose the bitchy when you come back.”

  I was being a bitch, and I’d do my best to curb it, but losing it altogether was out of the question for a woman like me. As quickly as I could, I handled my bathroom business, including brushing my teeth. It gave me extra time to ‘lose the bitchy,’ but not by much.

  When I opened the bathroom door, Roll was sitting up in the bed with his back against the wall, since I didn’t have any kind of headboard. He was shirtless, and as usual, I was smitten with the tattoos on his torso. Most people only got glances of the crimson A on his upper arm, but across his firm pectoral muscles in scrolling script was “Ride Forever, Forever Free.” At the beginning and end of the quote there were flames on either side. Looking at the last two words, I began to think maybe I was wrong last night. Maybe I hadn’t been an idiot after all. If he wanted to be “Forever Free,” then it was no wonder he never claimed me.

  “You gonna stand there starin’ at my tats all morning or have I got time to use the john?”

  I arched an eyebrow at him. “You got time to use the toilet.”

  He trundled into the bathroom and closed the door. I went to the kitchen and started some coffee brewing. Then I went back to the bedroom and sat on the bed.

  He came to the bed, stretched out on it, and his big hands grabbed me by the waist to haul me up next to him. It wasn’t often he did things like that, but when he did I was reminded of his enormous strength. As much as it surprised me it, turned me on, too. I was on my side with my front to his, but he shifted again, and I was on my back with Roll hovering over me.

  “You got somethin’ to say?”

  I pursed my lips slightly. “I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.”

  His hair slid over his shoulder toward me. “Not what you said—”

  “I know that. Your tattoo reminded me you want to be forever free, and maybe I wasn’t such an idiot after all.”

  His jaw ticked and after a beat he spoke softly. “Tell me what you were thinkin’ last night anyway. Even if you don’t think that now. Please.”

  Maybe it was the soft voice, maybe it was the ‘Please,’ but something made me blurt, “You would never get forced into anything. Especially not with your brothers.”

  He lowered his forehead to mine and exhaled deeply. “Well, thank fuck,” he whispered.

  “I don’t want to rain on your relief parade or anything, but I don’t think you have anything to be thankful for, just yet.”

  Roll

  Roll fought his body going taut at Trixie’s words. He didn’t have anything to be thankful for? Oh, hell no. He had plenty to be thankful for, she just didn’t know it yet.

  Raising his head from hers, his eyes danced over her face. “Fact you know I wouldn’t get forced into shit with my brothers is absolutely somethin’ to be thankful for, Trixie.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “But you want to be forever free; it’s permanently etched into you.”

  Shifting his weight to a plank on either forearm, he cupped her cheeks with his hands. “I could ride free the rest of my days, but riding without you, I’m anything but free. I’m trapped in a hell of misery because you’re not there with me.”

  He heard her breath hitch, and damn if he didn’t see her eyes get glossy. She kept that shit in check, always. She did not cry in front of anyone. He nearly felt triumphant with his headway, but he knew better than to get ahead of himself with her.

  When it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything, he stroked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Come to my bike with me, baby.”

  She exhaled sharply. “Why?”

  He dipped his chin and stared at her. “Please.”

  It was almost entertaining to watch her war with herself. With nine years between them, he knew she wanted to, but she didn’t want him to know she wanted to go to his bike. Knowing all that, it made it easier to simply wait her out.

  With a begrudging sigh, she huffed, “Fine. Let’s go, Roll.”

  While she wrapped a skimpy robe around her body, he tugged on a pair of jeans and his cut. His sense of excitement and anticipation nearly made him wish they were doing this in front of his brothers, but he was pretty sure it didn’t make a shit to Trixie, so he savored the two feelings and led her to the back of his bike.

  The rising sun was glaring off of the black hard-sided saddlebags of Roll’s Harley. He opened one, and pulled out a brown paper bundle. Had he not been paying attention, he’d have missed Trixie’s gasp, but he was paying attention, and that gasp made this all worth it. He withdrew the folded leather, and holding it by the shoulder seams he let it fall in front of her.

  “Called our girl Abby. Had her order it three fuckin’ weeks ago, long before you overheard that God-forsaken conversation. Been sittin’ on it because I wasn’t sure if you’d want a big to-do about it or not, but my gut tells me you don’t give a rat’s ass how you get my cut, you just want my cut.”

  Her bright and glassy eyes told him he was dead right, but the longer she stood there just staring at him, the less certain he felt.

  Before he could say anything, she cleared her throat. “Well, what the fuck are you waiting for? Christmas? Put that baby on me! The sooner the better, Rolland!”

  There was nothing he wanted more than to comply with that request, but this was important.

  “I do this, shit changes, woman.”

  She glared at him. “I know that.”

  He shook his head. “No. I put this on you, we go have a conversation with Har. Then we have an entirely different conversation with Brute. Before any of that shit happens, though, you’re givin’ your landlord notice.”

  She didn’t like his order that she would have those two conversations, and she definitely didn’t like him weighing in on where she was going to live. It was clear she was trying to hide it, but she couldn’t hide much from him.

  “Roll, I’m not—”

  “You don’t like Rage breakin’ into your place. You said so less than six hours ago, babe. You give up the lease, you don’t have that problem any more.”

  She sighed through her nose and shifted her head in an acquiescent manner. “That’s not my issue.”

  He opened the cut and held it open. She shoved her arms through the holes and his leather draped on her shoulders. Nothing could hold back the smile from his face at seeing her with his cut resting there.

  “If your issue is dealing with Har and Brute, tough. I’m gonna be there for those convos and I won’t be some passive bystander either. It’s gonna get laid out crystal clear who the fuck you belong to, and if you ain’t down for that, I’m more than happy to do it myself. It’s not like I haven’t been waitin’ a good nine years to do it.”

  Her head tilted. “Um, what?”

  Letting his lips part just enough to show a hint of teeth, he knew his smile was devilish. “I told you I might be interested in you the next night, and you failed to show. Neither Har nor Brute were hiding the fact they wanted more of you, and I’m tellin’ you right now. I’ve been waitin’ since that damn evening to set their asses straigh
t. You don’t want to tell them this shit, I’m more than willing to do it for both of us.”

  She turned her head, but he still heard her muttered, “Christ.”

  Roll bit back his chuckle. “Not sure He can help you here, Trixie.”

  Her eyes were narrowed when she focused on him and he steeled his spine because her gaze was sharp.

  “Whatever, Roll. When am I gonna meet your mother?”

  Oh hell. That was not what he expected her to ask of him. Shit.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Trixie

  Something about having Roll’s leather on my shoulders made me feel downright giddy. It took a moment before I put my finger on what was going on. It wasn’t just that his cut made me official or advertised it to the world. The ‘Property of Roll’ patch on my back made me part of a much bigger family. All of the brothers would argue that I’d always been part of that family, but my part had always felt tentative at best. Knowing Roll had ordered my cut some time ago, I knew I was in the fold, so of course the second thing to pop in my mind was meeting his mother.

  I may have always been part of the Riot MC family, but I was desperate for a mother figure. It didn’t matter if I was twenty-nine, there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t yearn for my mother. To be the man that Roll was, I knew his mother had to be someone impressive, and no matter how selfish it might make me, I wanted that in my life almost as much as I wanted Roll.

  I deep-breathed the scent of the new leather and then turned my gaze up to Roll. It wasn’t lost on me that he had not answered my simple question, but I was more than smitten with the satisfied smile on his face.

  “Normally, we have a party for this kind of shit. You sure you don’t want a ceremony or to-do or something? I already took a ration of—”

  “I’m good,” I interrupted. “Bikers never need a damn reason to party. You can skip the to-do and introduce me to your family.”

  He gave me as slow blink while he inhaled, and I thought he was going to refuse, but he exhaled and nodded.

  “All right. Momma’s been moved to a rehab center, so I don’t know if she’s gonna be up for it just yet. She’s doin’ at least two kinds of therapy, so —”

  “I don’t care,” I said.

  “She might, woman. She knows about you, and I know she wants to know more about you. Hell, my niece Leah’s been wanting to meet you since early last year. So, at a minimum, I’ll arrange somethin’ with you and my brother’s family so you can meet the four of them.”

  My head tilted. “How old’s your niece?”

  I didn’t ask how the hell I never knew he had a biological brother, because you’d think after nine fucking years I’d know shit like that, but it was news to me.

  His grin was small before he answered. “She’s fifteen, but I swear she might as well be fifty some days.”

  A low-riding Honda Civic drove by with the bass cranked so loud I felt the vibrations from my head to my toes.

  “Let’s get inside, Trix. Not good for us to be standing out here for so long. You get inside, get outta that robe, but keep the cut. Want you on your knees on your bed the first time I take you as my Ol' Lady.”

  ***

  By lunchtime Roll had worn me out. I put my elbow on my pillow and rested my head in my hand. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been holding out on me.”

  He chuckled. “I haven’t been, but I see why Cal and the others were so gung-ho to put cuts on their women.”

  I’d have to take his word for it. I stretched out on my side in the bed. “Let’s order a pizza and take a nap after we eat.”

  “Not happenin’,” he said, smacking my up-turned hip.

  “Why?”

  “No word on where Heathen is, and I told you what we’d be doin’. Two conversations we gotta have before the Biloxi brothers head back.”

  I just managed to hold back my pout. “My plan’s better and could’ve included me sucking your cock.”

  The bed shook with his laughter. “You’ll get to suck me off in my room. Your plan’s to procrastinate and try to dodge a situation you set up.”

  “No. I did not set up this sitch. You pushy bikers let me check into the Grand like I—”

  “You’re splittin’ hairs. Bottom line, they hafta be set straight.”

  I got out of the bed and put on a sheer purple bra and a black Metallica t-shirt. For some reason, I was in the mood to wear my denim skirt and I was slapping hangers around in my closet looking for it.

  “Don’t know what your hold up is, woman, but don’t forget to wear your cut. We’re on my bike, so shake a leg.”

  Sweet! Roll didn’t put me on the back of his bike very often. Another upside to being his.

  Half-an-hour later, we pulled into the forecourt and my stomach was rumbling almost as loud as Roll’s Harley.

  I dismounted and waited for Roll to do the same. “You need to feed my ass before anything else. I’m a new definition of ‘hangry,’ Roll.”

  He grabbed me behind my neck and pulled my face to him. He kissed me hard, long, and wet. All of his kisses were good, but this one was even more impressive than most.

  When he broke the kiss, his eyes were smoldering. “Okay, baby. No words until you eat.”

  He guided me into the clubhouse and straight to the kitchen. Yak was standing in front of an electric griddle flipping what looked like grilled-cheese sandwiches.

  He spied us and shook his head. “Look what the cat dragged in. ‘Bout fuckin’ time. You’re just in time for patty melts.”

  “I’m gonna need two, Yak. I could eat my arm right now, I’m so damn hungry.”

  Turk turned to us from where he was manning a deep fryer. “No way, Trix. Got a big batch of onion rings comin’ out, and those Biloxi brothers are bringin’ the low country boil in here any minute.”

  “Why the fuck’s Yak makin’ patty melts then?” Roll asked.

  Yak spoke to the griddle. “’Cause I need more than shellfish to keep me goin’.”

  Brute and another Biloxi brother had huge oven mitts on their hands as they brought in a humongous stainless-steel pot. I couldn’t help but notice the tightness of Brute’s jaw when he saw me wearing a cut. Har was directly behind them, and his tight jaw was accompanied by narrowed eyes.

  He shook his head. “Know you Jacksonville brothers do shit differently, but does it really count to take an Ol’ Lady if you don’t do that shit in front of all your brothers?”

  Roll

  Roll’s blood began to boil. Har could not be serious. How he put his cut on his woman was irrelevant, and as a president of another chapter, Har damn well knew it. He had wanted Trixie to be part of the discussion with Har, because he knew she was more than capable of handling problems. She was assertive to a fault and he had no intention of trying to subdue that about her. But Har’s reaction to Trixie wearing Roll’s cut made him rethink that.

  “How ‘bout we take this outside,” Roll muttered.

  Brute and Roman had dumped the contents of the huge pot onto newspapers on the counter. As second-in-command to Har, he stalked over to Roll, getting in his space. “You threatening my President, Roll?”

  Roll felt Trixie’s hand on his arm, but nothing could stop him from puffing out his chest at Brute’s aggressive stance. “No. I don’t want a fuckin’ audience for what I have to say to him. Deal with your ass after.”

  “‘Deal with my ass,’ is that what you said?”

  “Stand down Brute,” Har said, forcefully.

  Brute held his eyes a shade too long, but finally took a step back from Roll. When Roll looked to Har, the man jerked his chin to the back door and Roll moved that way. Trixie was in step with him, but before they cleared the door he stopped.

  “Stay here.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “No. No way.”

  “Yes. Said it yourself, you need food. Go eat. I got this.”

  She looked like she was ready to argue with him, so he bulged his eyes at her and a reluc
tant smile curved her plump lips.

  “Fine,” she whispered.

  Roll followed Har out the back door and around the side of the building. Har stopped and folded his arms on his chest. “She’s too damn good for you.”

  Roll shoved his hands in his pockets. “She’s too damn good for any of us.”

  Har shook his head. “I don’t know exactly what’s in her past. She only hinted at it in the car, but I can tell it’s heavy shit. Take damn good care of her. She fuckin’ deserves it.”

  Hearing that she shared things with Har made his chest burn, but Roll did his best to ignore it. “I know she does, and I’m gonna give her everything I got. So you got nothin’ to worry about.”

  Har didn’t say anything, but the look on his face was dubious.

  “We done here? I need to have a slightly different conversation with your number two.”

  Har dropped his folded arms. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “That ain’t gonna be enough for me or for—”

  “He was out of line bein’ in my bed, and this gives me the chance to make that clear to him again.”

  Roll took in a breath and held it firm in his lungs. Many times it would help his temper, but knowing Brute wasn’t just running his mouth still made him see red.

  “That really—”

  Har’s voice held an edge of steel. “I need to get Volt involved? I’ll handle my vice president.”

  He wanted to tell Har he better, but that would be disrespect, so Roll turned on his heel to go back to the clubhouse, biting his tongue the whole way.

  ***

  “Heathen’s in jail,” Volt said, once the brothers were all gathered and quiet.

  Roll’s gut clenched. No way he was in the joint for anything with sticking power.

  “What’re the charges?” Har asked.

  “Assault and battery. Attempted murder of his wife, but that may not stick,” Blood replied.

  Volt nodded. “Something else. Roll and I had been workin’ with Kim to take out key members of the Lancers.”