Refuge (Riot MC Book 1)

by Emily Minton

  I grab them and let out an excited squeal. “Thank you! Van won’t let me go to the store, and I was afraid to send him to get any. Knowing my luck, he’d bring back the cheap shit that would cause all my hair to fall out.”

  Cline laughs from her perch at the end of the bed. I shoot her a smile and look at the boxes. One is ice blonde, so light it’s almost silver. The other is electric blue, damn near as bright as Van and Cline’s eyes. Instantly, I see myself with blond hair with kick-ass blue tips, giving the look the edge I like.

  “I hated to tell you, but your roots are showing,” Erin says, not even bothering to look my way. “I noticed them the last time we Skyped.”

  I want to toss something at her, tell her she is lying, but I can’t. Usually, my hair is changed too often to give the roots time to show, but not this time. I noticed them coming in last week. Since then, my natural honey blonde is starting to show even more. Considering the rest of my hair is midnight black, it doesn’t look all that great.

  “I want to make my hair black just like yours,” Cline says, coming to look at the boxes in my hands.

  “No freaking way, baby girl,” I say, grabbing her and pulling her into the bathroom to look in the mirror. “Look at those beautiful red waves. So pretty. Why in the world would you want to change it?”

  I am not sure how to handle this shit, but I do know a six-year-old should not be thinking about dying her hair. I also know, if I had her hair, I would never let anyone touch it. It’s beautiful, just like her father’s.

  “I want to look like you,” she says, looking at me in the mirror.

  A wonderful heat warms my heart, but I push it away and respond, “You have your Daddy’s hair. Believe me; most women would give their left arm to have the same thing.”

  “But I want to look like you,” she says again, pushing out her bottom lip.

  Her words take me back to a place in my past, a place I still carry around with me. Georgia and I were making pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving, and I felt loved by a woman for the first time. All the feelings I should have had for my mother transferred to Georgia, and I wanted nothing more than to be just like her when I grew up. Knowing I could never be the beautiful African American woman Georgia was, I decided to become a chef. Considering that is what I grew up to be, I guess I never moved past that stage of my life.

  I squat down, bringing my eyes level with hers. “You don’t need to look like anyone but yourself, Cline. Believe me, the girl you are is perfect.”

  “Really?” she asks, her voice soft and timid.

  I nod, smiling at her. “Absolutely.”

  Before we can say more, Erin is calling us back into the bedroom. We move there slowly, my hand resting on the top of her auburn hair. As soon as my eyes land on her, and I see her holding a hot pink case in her hands, I have to laugh.

  “I thought you could use this.” She says, holding it up like it’s the most precious thing her hands have ever touched.

  “What is it?” the beautiful girl at my side asks.

  Luckily, Cline has no idea the pink case holds my favorite vibrator. It cost me over a hundred dollars, but it was worth it. It could bring me to orgasm in less than a minute. It could even pull a double, something none of the men in my life could do, none before Van anyway.

  “It’s something from my work.” I only half-lie, considering I did have to work more than a few hours to own the most perfect battery-operated boyfriend in the world. “I don’t really need it now, but it will be good to have in case of emergencies.”

  Erin realizes her mistake and shoves it back in the suitcase, sending a smirk my way. “Must be nice, to be so lucky.”

  She doesn’t give me a chance to respond about just how nice it is. Instead, she turns back to the suitcase. She rummages through it for a second before pulling out a box. It is wrapped in lime green paper and topped with a bright yellow bow.

  She hands it to Cline with a gentle smile on her face. “I couldn’t come to visit without bringing my favorite little girl a present.”

  I watch as she pulls off the paper and tears open the box. Inside is a collection of CDs, each one personally made by Erin. I look over Cline’s shoulder as she digs them out, seeing everything from Bach to the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

  “You need to listen to each one of those. I want you to pick out your favorite songs. Then, I’ll send you the sheet music for them, so you can play them for me on Skype,” Erin says, a sweet smile on her face.

  More than once, over the last few weeks, Cline has played her guitar for Erin and Kat. Over Skype, they clapped and made her feel like she was a musical genius. In truth, she is. I see a future for her, one with her name in light and lots of sold-out stadiums.

  “I don’t know how to read music,” Cline says, worrying her bottom lip. “But when I get big enough, Daddy is gonna let me take lessons so I can learn.”

  I walk over and put my hand on her head. “I can’t play the guitar very well, but I can read music. If you want, I’ll teach you how.”

  Mom had me in piano lessons for as long as I can remember, but I never had any talent for it. When I went away to school, I took guitar lesson, but I wasn’t any better with strings than ivory. Still, I can read music like a maestro. Surely, I can teach Cline the every boy does fine rule and a little more to boot.

  “You’re so smart. I don’t think you’ll have any problems learning to read music,” I tell her, knowing it is true. “With a little bit of practice, you’ll be able to read it better than me. Then, you’ll be playing whatever you want.”

  Cline eagerly looks up at me and asks, “Do you really think so, Ronni? You think I could play whatever I want, even learn all of Patsy Cline’s songs?”

  “I have no doubt about it,” I reply honestly.

  The way her face lights up causes my heart to thump painfully in my chest. It’s not hard to make this little girl happy. She eats up every little bit of attention anyone gives her as if she doesn’t deserve it. As much as I love the way she attaches herself to me, I hate that she feels like she doesn’t deserve the love I so freely give her.

  Turning to Erin, I change the subject back to what I want to do at this moment. “Are you going to help me with my hair? I want it done before we leave for the clubhouse.”

  “You’re going to need this.” Erin nods, pulling a bottle of color remover from one of the suitcases and tossing it my way.

  I look at the box, my lips curling up into a snarl. “There’s no telling how long it’s going to take to strip this black out of my hair.”

  I hate stripping color from my hair; it takes freaking forever. There is no other choice if I want to go blonde. If I tried to cover the black, without stripping it first, I’d probably end up with some fucked up shade of gray.

  “Well, get started. I’ve been dying to try these colors out. I think the ice blonde will look killer with blue tips,” Erin says before looking over at Cline. “Now that I have a little helper, I’m even more excited.”

  I was nearly twenty before my hair was even highlighted. Since then, I have changed it every few months. Considering I’m not rolling in the dough, Erin and Kat would play my hairdressers. Kat will do it if I ask, but she hates the smell and would rather give the duty to someone else. Erin, on the other hand, loves doing things with my hair. Half the time, she is the one that brings home boxes of hair dye.

  Cline doesn’t even hide her excitement as she claps her hands, all earlier thoughts of coloring her own hair now gone. I smile down at her, bending just enough to place a kiss on her cheek.

  “I’m going to be a great helper, Aunt Erin,” she squeals as she runs to the bathroom.

  My friend looks to where Cline disappeared then turns back to me. “Did she just call me Aunt Erin?”

  “Yes, she did.” I laugh, enjoying the look of surprise on her face. “Now, come on, Aunt Erin. Let’s get this shit done.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ve
ronica

  I toss back another shot, matching the club whore sitting to my right, shot for shot. When she first sat down, she pissed me off. The bitch told me she hoped I’d hit the road soon, saying she missed Van’s dick. I wanted to knock her fucking teeth out, but I called for the Prospect to bring her a shot instead.

  When I was in Tennessee, Trix talked to me a lot about being an old lady. At the time, I didn’t know that was where Van and I were heading, but I still listened to every word she said. She told me I had to keep my shit tight, to not let anyone know they could get to me. She said club whores could smell fresh blood from a mile away and would pick my carcass clean if I give them half a chance.

  “Is Cline back at her momma’s?” the club whore asks as she motions for another shot of tequila.

  It pisses me off that she even knows Cline’s name, but I answer her anyway. “She’s staying at Milly’s house.”

  Van sent her to spend the night with one of the old ladies, knowing a little girl had no place at the club tonight. When he first mentioned it, I was worried Cline would be upset, but I was wrong. She loves Milly. Considering her grandma is a bitch, she found her own with Milly. Thankfully, the woman loves her with her whole heart.

  “Milly is a good woman,” she says with a quick nod. “Shame her and Crash never had any kids. She would have made a good momma.”

  Suddenly, I understand why Van chose her to watch his daughter. Milly is filling in for the grandma Cline will never have, considering Kendra is such a bitch, and Cline is filling in for the grandchild Milly will never have. It’s beautiful and heart-wrenching at the same time.

  Erin looks over at me, her eyes glossy from all the liquor she has consumed. “I can’t believe you waited so long to ask me to come out here. These men are yummy. You should’ve brought me when you came. Then, I’d have had plenty of time to sample them all.”

  I want to tell her that, if she wasn’t leaving so soon, she’d have plenty of time. I want to ask her about her and Kat moving here, but I’m not sure now’s the time to mention that. She’s not drunk, but I know it’s something not to be taken lightly, and she’s feeling too good for a serious conversation.

  The club whore sitting with us leans forward and looks at my friend. “You need to take Brass for a round. I swear, that boy has the biggest dick I have ever seen, and he definitely knows how to use it.”

  My friend huffs under her breath and says, “Been there, done that. You’re right, he’s amazing, but I need some fresh meat. Got any recommendations?”

  Erin looks like a pixie, only an inch over five foot. Light blonde hair and big blue eyes round out her look, making her appear completely innocent, but she is anything but. She goes through men like most women go through tampons, never going back for seconds.

  “Go for Taz,” the club whore mumbles, nodding her head. “He’s good with his tongue, and he can go all night long.”

  I throw back another shot and ask, “Do you know how he got his name?”

  “Like I said, he’s good with his tongue,” she says, a smile spreading across her insanely beautiful face. “He’s like a Tasmanian devil when it comes to certain things. He gets his mouth on a pussy, and he just goes crazy.”

  Before I can even process her words, Erin jumps up from her seat. “Point me in his direction. I wouldn’t mind a little mouth to clit action.”

  “If he isn’t up for it, you can try Walker or Ram. They are always willing to have a little fun, and they’ll both make sure you have fun, too,” the woman adds with a wink.

  “I’ll save them for tomorrow,” Erin says with a wicked grin.

  As soon as the club whore points Taz out, Erin walks off in his direction. When she gets to his side, she does her thing. Within seconds, they are walking out of the room. My mind immediately goes to Brass, wondering how he is going to feel about sharing her with one of his friends. I search him out, seeing him on the couch being deepthroated by some chick I have never seen before. I let out a relieved breath, knowing he isn’t going to care whose bed Erin ends up in tonight.

  “Hey, baby,” Van says, taking the seat Erin just vacated and reaching over to take a strand of my hair in between his fingers. “I don’t know what I like more, the blonde or the blue. Probably gonna have to wait to see it all spread over my pillow before I can decide.”

  I smile, knowing exactly how much he likes it. When I came down the stairs, his response told me everything. He blinked a time or two, then grabbed me around the waist and carried me right back up the stairs. We didn’t even make it to the bed. He fucked me right against the bedroom door.

  Pulling my thoughts away from the hotter than hell sex we had a few hours ago, I give him a wink. “You may have mentioned a little something about it earlier.”

  He gives me a grin in return, letting go of my hair and taking my hand in his. “Are you having fun?”

  Before I can answer, the club whore starts talking. “I like this bitch, Van. You should keep her around.”

  He chuckles before looking at me. He reaches out, pulling my chair over to his and wrapping his arms around me. A second later, his mouth is on mine, and all thoughts of Brass, Erin, and club whores disappear from my mind. At this moment, I want nothing more than for him to take me to his room and fuck me until I scream his name again.

  When he finally pulls back, he has a cocky smile on his face. “I like her, too. Like her enough that I’m thinking about keeping her.”

  My brow raises in question. “Thinking?”

  “You try to go anywhere, and I’m tying you to my bed,” he says, still smiling.

  The club whore isn’t satisfied with his answer, and she lets him know. “You’ve got to tell us girls if you’re claiming her. It’s not fair to have an old lady in our mix and not let us know. We could accidentally say something to get our asses kicked.”

  Thinking back to her blow by blow of fucking my man, I have to agree. He has called me his old lady, but I’m not wearing his brand. A few of the women here tonight are wearing an old lady’s cut. The rest of the women have a tattoo on their right arm, saying who they belong to. Right now, I want to know if I am his or just a passing fancy that he’ll pass off to the next guy when he gets tired of me.

  “You can let the girls know Veronica is mine,” Van says, using my full name for the first time. “I’ll make it official as soon as Tito gets home.”

  His words bring a smile to my face. I knew this was coming, but this is different. Having him lay it out there makes it all feel real for the first time. I am going to be his old lady, Van’s woman, and I will be until the day we die. Nothing could make me happier.

  Surprisingly, the club whore smiles. “I’ll pass the word. Does this mean we need to keep our hands off you?”

  “Yes,” I answer for him, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. “I have never been good at sharing. If I find out some woman has her hands on him, I just might have to prove I’m my father’s daughter and make some bitch bleed.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Veronica

  I watch Brass and Erin drive away, tears in my eyes. Her time here, all three days, passed by in a flash. Half the time, she was with the brothers, teaching them how she made my phone untraceable. The rest of it was spent in some guy’s bed, a different one every time. I feel like I only got to spend a few minutes with her during her whole trip.

  She was able to give Riot what they needed. By the time she was done, they offered to pay her to come down to teach them a few more tricks. I could see her mind running through the ideas, knowing she would help them reach technological advances other clubs have not dreamed about.

  “I’m going to miss her,” I say, leaning into Van’s side. “We’ve been so close; I’m not sure how I am going to make it without her and Kat by my side.”

  My mind is filled with dread, not knowing when I will see my friend again. I tried to talk to her about moving to Indy, but she wasn’t around enough for me to
do much more than mention it. I thought she’d be the easy one to convince, but I guess I wrong.

  He kisses the top of my head and says, “She’ll be back soon.”

  I jerk back and look at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “She said she and your other friend were thinking about moving to Indy. They’re just waiting for Kat to hear back from IUPUI,” he explains, shocking the shit out of me. “As long as she can get a job, they’ll both be here before the end of the summer.”

  “What?” I repeat, not quite believing my ears. “They’re moving here?”

  Even though that was my exact plan for our future, I have never brought it up to either Kat or Erin. I’ve tried, more than once. Over Skype, I have tried to discuss it with them, but they shut me down each and every time. I thought it was their way of saying no without actually having to say the word.

  Van steps back enough to raise his hands and cup my cheeks. “Erin’s not stupid. I doubt your other friend is either. They don’t want to be away from you. If moving to Indy keeps you close, they are more than willing to pack their shit and make the move.”

  “Why didn’t she tell me?” I ask, wondering how he knew and I didn’t.

  He shrugs before replying, “Does it matter?”

  Before I can say anything, he plasters his lips to mine. Within seconds, all thoughts of Erin and Kat moving to Indiana fly from my brain. I am completely focused on Van and the way he makes my body feel.

  He wraps his arms around me, picking me up off my feet. “This has got to be fast. Cline’s gonna be home soon.”

  I get what he is saying. Cline is still with Milly, but one of the brothers will be bringing her home soon. If we want to have a little fun, it will have to be a quickie. That sounds just fine to me—more than fine, considering how good Van’s quickies can be.

  I feel him moving to take off his cut, so I release my lips just long enough to pull his shirt over his head. After laying his clothing on the table by the door, his lips find mine again. Kicking the door shut, he slams my body into it, never losing contact with my mouth. Reaching down, he unbuttons the top of my shorts and pushes them, along with my panties, down my legs. When they hit my feet, I kick them to the side, freeing my legs.