Unforeseen Riot_A Riot MC Novel

by Karen Renee

  “Okay, Jackie Joyner Kersey, you get the lion’s share of the eggs since you most likely have the best arm among the three of us. There’s your bag. Mal, you and I gotta work with thirty-six a piece.”

  Natasha, ever one for practicality, asked, “Okay, that’s all fine and great, but Jackie, how much time do you really think we have on our hands? We’re gonna be practically roadside on San Jose tryin’ to get this thing done.”

  I looked at her with annoyed disbelief, “You need another glass of wine. That second piece of lasagna has absorbed your liquid courage and liquid go-with-the-flow. There might be one glass left –”

  Before I could guide Tasha to the wine, Jackie clapped her hands, “Yes! Liquid courage. We need tequila. Come on, Natasha. No time like the present. No overanalyzing things here.”

  Luckily, we were saved by Volt, who sauntered back in and said, “Vamp and two prospects are gonna be your lookouts. Though, hear this ladies, Vamp won’t be there until probably closer to quarter to ten. You are going to wait for it to be full on dark before heading over there, right?”

  I glanced out the kitchen windows, noticing it was dark, but it wasn’t nearly as dark as it would be at nine o’clock. I turned my head back and caught sight of the clock on the wall which read eight-fifteen. Cripes. We had forty-five minutes to kill. We surely couldn’t spend it drinking tequila. I’d never be able to drive us to the scene of the crime, let alone get Natasha home safely.

  Jackie must have read my face, because she slammed her palm on the countertop and said, “Shit. I almost forgot about dessert! Who wants ice-cream cake?”

  “Ain’t gotta ask me twice. Especially since I don’t have to share it with any little boys or my husband,” Natasha responded.

  * * * * *

  I parked my Camry in a church parking lot located next door to the Samuelson School. I killed the lights, and the three of us sat in the car for about ten minutes as a just-in-case measure. Jim and Tim had pulled into the church parking lot five minutes ago, and told Jackie they would be watching out from the south on San Jose and from the east on Old St. Augustine road. It was now ten after nine, and except for street lights and headlights from passing vehicles, it was pretty dark. Clouds were gathering in the sky, so it seemed Mother Nature would keep us hidden as much as She could.

  Just before I was ready to open my door, Natasha said, “Well, at least we weren’t followed here by road-raging motorcycle guys.”

  In my rearview mirror, I saw Jackie’s head tilt. “What was that?”

  I smiled at Jackie. “I almost forgot. When we were driving over to your place earlier, there were two motorcycles that came up on us fast on the Buckman. I got to the right because we were close to the exit anyway, and I figured they’d pass, but they got right behind me. As I moved to the far left-hand turn lane, some small sports car cut them off. I stopped for a yellow traffic light at Beau Claire and the two bikers roared past us, one on my left, and the other between lanes on my right.”

  Natasha piped up with a deep, “Ummm-hmmm. It was freaky. Those two have death wishes, for sho.”

  Jackie sighed, “I don’t suppose these two guys were wearing cuts? And if they were, did you get a look at the patch on the backs of said cuts?”

  Jackie’s tone told me she was going freak out, but there was no helping it at this point, so I said, “Yeah. They were wearing Leatherneck cuts.”

  Jackie’s eyes were glaring at me in the rearview mirror and she snapped at me, “Mallory, in journalism school they call what you’ve just done, ‘burying the fuckin’ lead!’ Shit. You should have told me as soon as you two got to my place. Then Volt and Cal could’ve acted on that.”

  Natasha looked at me, and then looked back at Jackie. “Enlighten me here. What, exactly, would your man and Mallory’s man have done to ‘act on that?’”

  Jackie shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. The ’necks don’t get to pull shit like that with Riot.”

  My eyebrows furrowed, “Shit like what? They want to meet their maker at busy intersection, that’s on them. Seriously, Cal and Volt gonna go tell two morons to be safe drivers?”

  Jackie’s hair was in a high ponytail on her head. Her hands went there and started twisting the hair into a lumpy knot. She sighed and said, “Were either of you scared? A little frightened those two bikers were following you and you didn’t know who the fuck they were?”

  She had me again, dammit. I slid my eyes to Natasha, then back to the rearview mirror. I was going to speak, but Jackie spit out a knowing “Right. You were scared ‒or at least slightly shook up. That’s the shit they can’t pull. You may not be wearing a cut, but those assholes know Cal’s into you. Fuckin’ with you is equivalent to fuckin’ with Cal. I should call Volt, but if I do, I’ll have to pitch all these eggs because we’ll have to go back to my place.”

  At that point, I threw my door open wide, saying, “Well, let’s get this rotten show on the road, ladies.”

  We walked to the fence dividing the property of the church and the Samuelson School. I put my bag of eggs down and grabbed an egg. I stepped back five feet to make a test throw. My egg barely cleared the six-foot-high fence and landed with a sad thud on the grass. Jackie and Natasha peered through the chain links, then gave me an equally sad look.

  “You want the bad news, or do you want the bad news?” Natasha asked me.

  I chuckled, “Give it to me straight.”

  “Your egg didn’t even crack. Not even a little bit,” and then Natasha’s face spread into a grin.

  I was trying not to laugh, but Natasha’s face and Jackie’s sad eyes pushed me over the edge. I doubled over with mirth. I stood up and put my hands on my hips to take a deep breath.

  “Oh shit. That is really bad news,” I said, narrowing my gaze to Jackie, “You are sworn to secrecy. Volt cannot know that he was right about me not having an arm.”

  Jackie’s eyes became worried and anxious. “Hell. I didn’t think about that. Of course, I won’t tell him. But I better do a test-run to make sure I can do this shit.”

  Jackie’s test throw was slightly better than mine. Her egg sailed over the fence and landed with an audible splat on the ground. We all peeked through the fence to see shiny raw egg oozing out of the shell.

  Natasha, ever-practical, even if it was after the fact, groused, “You people. We shoulda had test-runs in your backyard before leaving the house. Now, let me take a shot.”

  Like me, Natasha backed away about five feet, but unlike me, she cocked her arm back then took three running strides before she let the egg fly. Jackie and I watched as her egg caught air and flew well over the fence by six feet. The egg hit the bottom back lip of the billboard with a sharp crack. Then we heard the unmistakable sound of wet egg hitting the ground. Jackie lifted her hands high in the air with her middle fingers extended.

  “Woo-hoo! Take that, assholes. I knew you could do it!”

  Twenty minutes later, Jackie and I were out of eggs. We had moved to the sidewalk and down the street so we could aim at the front of the board. I thought it was going to take me all night to throw thirty-five eggs when we first got started. I threw like a girl, and my first few throws were not anywhere near the mark. I was just thrilled that Volt was not there to say, “I told you so.” I was about to start lobbing my rotten orbs at the track when Natasha grabbed my throwing arm.

  “Okay, look. I don’t like these people any more than you do. But I am a member of the Jacksonville track club and ninety percent of our meets happen here. Do not throw these stinky eggs at that track. I gotta run on that, and my boys run on it too. ’Kay?”

  I had more to say to this request, but I decided to save it for another time. I nodded my head and adjusted my aim toward the billboard. It was at this point I knew what we needed, but would never have. “We need one of those t-shirt shooting guns they have at college basketball games and shit. That would get our eggs up there with a quickness.”

  Jackie laughed, “Now you get the bril
liant ideas. Try throwing more than one egg at a time, Mal. You might have better luck. I am.”

  So, that’s how Jackie and I managed to run out of eggs in twenty minutes. I might have managed to send ten of my eggs up to the metal railing skirting the billboard. It was sad, but at the same time I was really proud of being able to send an egg that high. It’s the little things, right? Natasha, on the other hand, had almost a sixty-six percent to target trend going. Only one out of every three throws would fail to hit the board in some way. Jackie and I watched as she all but emptied her last carton of eggs. We were giggling so hard, I had to cross my legs to keep from peeing my pants. I couldn’t remember the last time I had so much fun.

  I was looking at Natasha’s carton and saw three eggs in it, when it happened. Traffic had been exceptionally light during our festivities, but suddenly I heard a screech of tires and the soft scraping sound of a sliding door to a mini-van or similar vehicle thrown open. Jackie’s laughter abruptly stopped and I turned my head to see Bush, one of the Leathernecks I met at the pool hall. He wasn’t wearing a cut. Instead he was dressed similarly to us; he was wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans with his motorcycle boots. Bush looked Jackie up and down with a sneer on his face. Then he looked at me and licked his upper lip. Yuck.

  The vehicle was a black, boxy Nissan NV van. Someone inside the van yelled, “Hurry up, man. Ain’t got all night.”

  Bush narrowed his focus to me, and the rest happened in a blur. His beefy hand shot out and grabbed me by the hair. My left hand went to his hand in my hair and I let out a high-pitched shriek. I tried to throw an ascending right elbow at his chin like my kickboxing instructor taught me during workouts. Unfortunately, it was always just a workout, not actual hand-to-hand combat practice. Bush was a step ahead of me. His other hand grabbed my elbow and twisted it behind my back, hard. I screamed from the pain and also because he had hauled my body closer to his in order to pin my arm behind me. Being closer to this guy was not ideal, not just because he clearly wanted to take me against my will, but also because he stank. He was four shades past ripe and funky, a shower was needed like three weeks ago. Truly, did this man’s schnoz not function? I moved my left hand from my head to his shoulder and tried to push against him. I could hear strands of my hair ripping from my scalp and that hurt, but not half as much as my right arm did. The pain radiated from my elbow up my shoulder and it was blinding in its intensity. With one arm behind my back, and my other arm not helping in getting me free, I figured girly screams might be my only decent recourse. I could hear the prospects yelling from afar, and I hoped they were coming to help us.

  I heard Natasha close by say, “Ain’t no bearded motherfucker gonna take my girl. Not just no, but hell to the naw.” Then I heard the crack of two eggs and the smell of rotten eggs actually overpowered Bush’s nasty odor. Apparently Bush’s nose had some functionality and Natasha’s distraction worked. His left hand released my right arm and he touched his head.

  “You fuckin’ bitch! Did you just put a rotten fuckin’ egg in my hair?” he asked as he pulled his hand away with egg white oozing around his fingers. His right hand was still in my hair, and I tried to push away again, but to my dismay Bush took his egg-filled hand shoved it into my hair.

  Why hadn’t I thought to put my hair in a pony tail like Jackie’s? I was disgusted, definitely, but I was also so angry I thought my head would explode. I looked into Bush’s nasty brown eyes and pulled a Three Stooges move. I spread my index and middle finger wide and then aimed both of my fingers directly into those ugly eyes. I ignored the creepy sensation of poking someone’s squishy eyeballs with my fingers. Bush’s hands both left me and since I was still trying to pull away from his hold with my body, I went sprawling down to my ass on the sidewalk.

  Jackie moved in at that point and planted a knee forcefully into Bush’s crotch. He doubled over, howling in pain, but his hands were still covering his eyes. I would have thought the driver of the vehicle would get out and assist him, but he did not. Instead, the driver yelled, “Get in the fuckin’ van, man. This is a cluster. Let’s go. Now!”

  At this point Jim and Tim had made it to us, and Jim crouched down next to me and asked, “Are you okay, Mal?”

  I nodded, “Except for the rotten egg in my hair, yeah.”

  His lips twitched and he turned to watch Tim punch Bush in the nose, then land a right hook into Bush’s ribs, which was impressive because Bush was still hunched over from Jackie’s assault to his crotch. Bush’s hands started coming away from his eyes, and he managed to throw himself into the van before Tim could throw his next punch. As soon as Bush was lying on the floor of the van, the driver took off like a shot.

  Chapter 16

  “Goddamn it!” Tim roared, after the van pulled away.

  I stood up slowly. I was shaking and nauseous from the rotten egg in my hair. I was holding it together by a thread and fighting off tears, when I noticed Jim was on his phone.

  “Prez. We gotta situation. No, not cops. A black van pulled up and some asshole tried to grab Mallory. We were watching the streets from where Vamp told us to be. No, sir, Vamp’s not here yet. They’re fine, except for the egg in Mal’s hair. Okay, yeah. Out.”

  Jim turned to a seething Tim and said, “Prez wants us to follow them back to his place, pronto.”

  I gave them both bug-eyes and shrieked, “I can’t drive my car with fucking egg in my hair!”

  Both prospects looked like they wanted to vanish in a poof of thin air, but couldn’t manage it.

  Natasha saved them by saying, “Girl, you’re very damn lucky your best friend is a black woman. And we black women know a thing or two about keeping shit in your hair from getting on anything else, whether that anything else be car upholstery or clothing.”

  Natasha turned around and found the plastic grocery bag that held my empty egg cartons. She stood behind me, and said, “Stay still.” I heard the rustle of the plastic, and felt Natasha’s hands gently gather my hair into the plastic, and she tied it in a knot at the base of my neck.

  Jackie gave the back of my head an approving nod and said, “Let’s blow this billboard stand.”

  When we got back to Jackie’s, Volt was standing in the doorway. His face was stony. When he saw Jackie, he opened an arm wide. She went to him, and he clamped the arm around her and kissed her hard. He looked at Natasha and asked, “You all right?”

  “Of course, I am. Ain’t me you should be askin’, though.”

  Volt took in the plastic bag on my head, and asked, “You hurt?”

  I shook my head. “Not badly. My arm hurts from where he twisted it, and I’ll probably lose some hair, if not from him yanking on it, then definitely from the rotten egg he put in it. Fuckin’ cock-sucking asshat. I just need to get home and take a shower and then a deep-cleansing bubble bath.”

  The stony look on Volt’s face became more intense and he clipped, “You’re not goin’ to your house tonight, Mallory.”

  I arched my eyebrow at him. I mean, who the hell was he to tell me I couldn’t go to my own home and get this shit out of my hair and try to erase this shitty episode from my memory banks? Before I could say any of that, Volt said, “Simmer down now, Mallory. You were almost abducted. You think these assholes don’t know where you live? You’re not going to your house. We got three showers here and plenty of shampoo. Hell, one of the showers is a double shower stall. Take your pick. Vamp should be here any minute. He’s riding with you and your girl back to the other side of the river, and then you’re staying in Cal’s room at the compound.”

  Memories of my run-in with Trixie flooded my mind, and I said, “I’ll just get a hotel room, but thanks.”

  Volt leaned into me. “Somebody at a fuckin’ Holiday Inn gonna protect your ass when they make another attempt? Hotel room doors ain’t foolproof. This isn’t up for discussion. You’re Cal’s, like it or not, and that makes you part of Riot. You’re stayin’ at the compound. End of. Go shower. Baby, get her some towels and
whatever else she needs.”

  With that, Volt stalked out into the yard to talk to the prospects. I rolled my eyes. I looked to Natasha and said, “I’m sorry, hon.”

  Natasha shook her head, “What the hell for? You didn’t put the egg in your hair. Hell, I’d tell you I’m sorry for using the eggs on that jackass, but I’m just happy I had two left over to distract that bastard. Now get. That egg dries in your hair, you may have to cut it in order to get rid of the funk.”

  I turned to Jackie and said, “Guest bathroom, here I come.”

  Jackie gave me a stern look. “Oh, no. My good hair products are in the master bath shower. Besides, you need a double assault to wash away not only the egg, but the funk of that bastard. Jesus, someone needs to introduce him to some Right Guard immediately.”

  Jackie, Natasha and I were standing in her master bathroom. Jackie had just placed a fluffy powder-blue towel on the counter. Natasha was standing behind me to untie the plastic bag from my head. Natasha touched the bag and then stopped. “Girl, you got two choices. I take this thing off your head and you smear rotten egg into your turtleneck or you take off your shirt now, then I’ll take the bag off your head.”

  Seeing as how I was headed to the compound without a fresh change of clothes, I knew protecting my shirt was paramount. “Good call, Tasha. Let’s get my shirt off first.”

  I pulled my arms out of the sleeves, and then bunched the shirt up at my neck. Natasha held the bag at the base of my neck with one hand, while she used her other hand to push the plastic into the neck of the turtleneck. We carefully pulled the shirt over my head, and then Natasha untied my impromptu hair net.