Inflamed: A Shadow Riders MC

by Kiki Leach

  "When?"

  "Says a few weeks but that part cold be bullshit. Asshole could be out by tomorrow for all we fuckin' know or he could be out next month if he's not out here walkin' the goddamn streets already." River wrapped his hand around his swollen fist.

  "So this bitch could be here longer than even she might've planned for it." Blue took a seat beside him on the table and took one quick drag of his cigarette. "Lem’me ask you somethin', Riv. What the fuck were you really lookin' to get outta this shit with Mia? Aside from the reasons you claimed before? 'Cause it'd be easy as fuck if you just used your own goddamn mouth to speak what we all know regardin’ how much you just wanna get laid by this bitch, and how."

  "What the fuck does my cock have to do with the shit I just said?"

  "Every goddamn thing, VP," he replied. "Every goddamn, single fuckin’ thing."

  They stared at each other until River finally broke contact and lowered his head.

  Silence traveled between them until he finally spoke again.

  "You know what the fuck happened to my mother," he mumbled. “The motherfuckers who left her for fuckin’ dead.”

  He sat back and made a face. "Motherfucker, forget the bullshit and the way you’ve always felt about folks who look like her ‘cause of what the fuck happened to Jolene. When you look at this bitch beyond that shit, and I mean when you’re really lookin’ and starin’ right into those goddamn beautiful as fuck eyes of hers and nothin’ else, not another goddamn thing else ‘cept for those big grey eyes, asshole; what the fuck is it that you’re actually seein’? Is it those motherfuckers? Is it her? Or is it your own goddamn reflection starin’ right back at you?”

  “When’d the fuck you get so goddamn deep, asshole?”

  “Right around the same fuckin’ time your cock started twitchin’ around this bitch more than mine,” he said. “What the fuck do you see when you look at her, Riv? Hand to God, what the fuck is it that you see?”

  River tore his eyes away from the ground and thought of how to answer.

  And then he sat back shaking his head because men like him didn't wonder and think about shit like this. Men like him did every goddamn thing they could to wonder and think of anything BUT shit like this. It was the lesser men who considered this shit, the weaker motherfuckers who valued the actual worth of a woman more than just what she had to offer him between her goddamn legs or inside her blouse. It was men like Styx who put the idea of who a woman was before her pussy, and he always thought him such a pansy son of a bitch because of it, just like his old man.

  But the more time he spent with Mia, the more she spoke to him, the more she listened; the more she looked at him as if he was truly more than just some piece of shit biker with a giant cage around his heart and a constant axe to grind in someone, the more he started to wonder if thinking like Styx was really so goddamn bad.

  Because when he looked at this bitch, really looked at her like Blue said and told himself the honest to God's truth about it all, he saw a chance at something good, something really fucking good that could’ve turned into something great and was damn near better than even being real. He saw his life getting better and he saw a future, his future, something that before her coming back into his life was almost a myth inside his own goddamn mind.

  He saw shit that blinded most men when they looked at a woman like her, someone who took his breath away and shoved it right back inside his chest at the same goddamn time with just the swift kick of her right hand or even a goddamn foot. He saw too much in her and not enough. He saw the pain and the guilt and the fury and the anger and rage she had built up inside because for too goddamn long, he had all that shit building up inside himself too; though the reasons were different and he knew they'd remain that way no matter how he fucking felt about it all beneath that superficial surface he forced onto such an unstable display of emotions.

  "Riv." Blue hit him on the arm and shoved his brows together. "I asked you what the fuck you see when you look at this bitch, brother?"

  "Jesus." He lifted his eyes and stared out into the parking lot. "I don't even fuckin' know."

  Blue kept his eyes on River and nodded. He knew that his best friend was still full of shit. Maybe even more shit than he had been all day. Hell, maybe even more than in his entire, goddamn life.

  "Riv." He and Blue whipped their heads around and saw Styx standing in the doorway of the club. River jumped down from and rounded the table. Styx gradually approached him while keeping his guard up and stopped walking the minute they were literally toe to toe with each other.

  River looked behind him and saw Trucker leaning back against the pool table, eyeing him in a way that told him Styx coming out there was due to talking to him and not for any other reason. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, waiting for his prospect to speak first.

  Styx swallowed hard and inhaled deeply. "We fucked up," he said. Once the words left his mouth, they tasted like acid. He shifted his jaw side to side as if it would somehow relieve how he felt. "There’s no goddamn doubt that we did, and the shit won't happen again."

  He tightened his jaw. "Damn fuckin’ right it won’t. ‘Cause let me tell you somethin’, motherfucker, anymore goddamn fuck ups like that and you and the other one can kiss the chance of finally bein' brought into this club as a full-time member for life good fuckin' bye," he said. "I don’t give a fuck who your old man was; the last thing I’m gonna do is tolerate disrespect from a motherfucker I don’t even like bein’ around. Now you feel that shit? I sure in the fuck hope that you do ‘cause it’s me topplin' your oversized ego, motherfucker, with the goddamn weight of my own."

  Styx lifted his head and sneered. He didn't like River all that much either to be perfectly honest, never had and probably never would, but he respected him as a superior; both out of obligation and by choice. They had a sort of strange history with one another dating back to Styx's days as a mechanic at the garage that no one seemed to know about, except for Blue. And despite knowing, even he couldn't seem to understand much of the animosity they had for each other. He just knew it was there and that it was more than likely never, ever going away. And now with Mia around and possibly thrown into the mix of it all? He knew it was only bound to get stronger, and much, much worse.

  "You and Trucker get Mia's clothes and shit," said River. "Hand 'em off to Verna and she can stick 'em inside her bedroom."

  Styx nodded. "Yeah." He turned back to Trucker and pointed his head toward the tow truck.

  As they headed over, Blue hopped down from the picnic table and joined River in watching them. "What are you plannin' to do with the rest of her shit? Keep it in your garage so you can stare at it forever?" he asked.

  River snarled. "Like I said in the meetin', her shit's bein' auctioned off this weekend."

  "Thought it was just an idea you had, didn't know a goddamn decision had already been made without the club, again." He grumbled. "Honest to God, Riv, hand straight up to the motherfuckin' sky and Big Man himself: who the fuck do you think is gonna wanna buy that shit? These old ladies are some high class bitches. Second-hand shit from anybody that ain't Oprah or some shit is not exactly their style."

  "We won't be sellin' her shit to the old ladies. I'm gonna invite some motherfuckers and their wives and girlfriends or any women they’re fuckin’ at the moment from around the area to stop by."

  "Your area?"

  "Yeah. They can show up and buy out all her shit for the highest goddamn price point."

  "And if they think her shit is no better than their own shit to the point that they don't need any more of it?"

  River turned to his friend and glared. "Her shit's gettin' sold on Saturday, motherfucker. No matter who's purchasin' it, her shit's gettin' sold. Trust."

  Blue took note of the severe look in his eyes and the hard and determined tone of his voice, traits that only seemed to appear during discussions about Madison or his mother, and snickered. He knew what that shit meant, even if River
didn’t. "I'll be a good goddamn motherfucker--"

  "Wolf said some shit about droppin' me some info about Fontaine in the mornin'," he interjected, forcing him to cut that portion of the conversation short. "I want you here with me to take note of every goddamn word he says in case he slips up about it later.”

  Blue kept a smile on his face and bobbed his head. "Sure, VP, yeah."

  "Good," he said. "I'll call you up when he gets in contact with me, so make sure whatever bitch you decide to screw tonight doesn't force you to sleep through that goddamn ringtone." He kept his eyes on Styx as he and Trucker passed them while holding all of Mia and Avery's clothes in their arms, and headed back inside the club. "And keep an eye out for those two motherfuckers before you head out for good tonight."

  "Yeah," he replied. "I'll make sure Styx keeps away from your girl." He threw a hand into his back, then rushed back into the club before River could truly react or respond.

  Chapter Twelve

  Later that night, River returned to what felt like a completely empty house.

  "Madison?" he called out, hoping that at least his daughter would be there to greet him.

  He flicked on the light and scanned the living room, searching for anything that might’ve been out of place. But from his couches to his television to his vinyls in the corner, everything was just as he had left them two nights before. It was all so absolutely still and quiet; not a single sound was coming from any part of the house. It gave him comfort, but also scared the absolute shit out of him because the one thing River Hawkins hated more than even Ricky Fontaine himself, was being completely alone. The silence gave him too much time to think and too much thinking never seemed to do him much of any good.

  After closing the door, he moved into the kitchen and tossed his keys on the table. He removed his leather cut and tossed it on the back of a chair, then went over to the fridge for a beer. As soon as he opened it, he saw a note on the box of beer, written by his daughter, and ripped it off.

  I'm hanging out with Lily, tonight, it said. Gran's at the casino in Laketown with LuAnn. She said don't wait up for her and don't call! Love you and see you in the morning!

  Madi

  Lily being LuAnn's daughter and LuAnn, being one of the more established club whores for the last fifteen or so years. Lily was the product of Lu's time spent with Tiny during the days she was angling to become his official Old Lady, but it was something that no one ever really discussed much outside of the club once he unconsciously denounced her. Lily seemed to have more of a relationship with River, Blue and the other members than she ever seemed to have with her own old man. But they often reminded her that it was on him, not her to make a constant effort in being more than just a motherfucker who sent checks every goddamn week to 'show just how fucking much he cared'.

  River grabbed his beer and slammed the door shut. He popped the cap and tossed it into the garbage beneath the sink. He leaned back on the counter, wrapped an arm around his chest and took a single breath in. Compared to Tiny, he was probably father of the goddamn year. But in general, he knew that he could've done better by his baby girl, even if it meant just being around more; the problem was that he just never fucking knew how. But he loved her more than his own goddamn, worthless life, would've done absolutely anything to make her happy, even if he was left feeling miserable as fuck inside as a result. And outside of his mother, and maybe Verna, she was the only other woman in his life that he treated with any modicum of respect.

  He drank back some of his beer and thought about how different things would be for him once she was finally gone. How the hell was he going to get along in being without her while she was off to school in another goddamn state? Who would he talk to about personal shit aside from his mother? Who would make him laugh and give him advice he knew damn well he needed but never asked for? Who would be there to force him to smile even when he felt like throwing a fist through someone’s face, or hold his hand to keep it from shaking when bad shit went down at the club that he couldn't control? Who would look into his eyes and call him a hero? Who would think that despite himself and all the bad shit that he'd ever done in his life and to the people around him, that he was still worth not only being around, but worthy of being loved completely, fully, and with every single bit of their entire goddamn heart and soul? He didn't know, and he didn't want to think about it even though he couldn't help himself. Shit like this was why he hated being alone. Thoughts creeped inside his head that he couldn't get rid of, feelings overtook his body that he couldn't shake. It was like being trapped inside a tornado or a hurricane all at once; you had no other fucking place to go but where the wind or water took you.

  The only thing that seemed to calm his nerves was shifting his thoughts over to Mia, thinking about how she and her daughter needed him now, about the way she looked up at him when she smiled and told him how thankful she was for his help. It wasn't the same. He knew it and there was no way in hell that it could've or even should've been, but shit, it was something. It was something better than what he knew he wouldn't have once his baby girl was gone off and living her life and that would be absolutely nothing, nothing at all.

  When the doorbell rang, he arched his brows, then pulled them together and stared out into the living room. Most people who wanted to see him after hours would leave word for him at the club. No motherfucker in their right mind ever showed up to his house uninvited unless they were crazy as fuck or looking for a goddamn beat down of some kind.

  He placed his beer on the counter and reached into the pocket of his cut for his gun. He flipped the safety and slowly approached the door, then moved to the side to peek out from the corner of the curtain. When he saw exactly who was standing there, in short-shorts and a hot pink tube top with matching pink tennis shoes, he dropped his head and cursed to himself.

  "Christ."

  "River?" the soft, perky voice belted out from the other side. She knocked again and tried peeking in through a window off to the side.

  "Fuck." He turned the safety back on, then lifted his shirt and slid his gun behind the rim of his pants. He wiped his hand down his face in a load of frustration, then reached for the handle on the door and yanked it back. What stood before him was a sight for a pair of sore eyes like his, and he in no way saw that phrase as a compliment, especially when it came to her. "Courtney," he said, his eyes falling as he got a good look at her face again. She was wearing make-up this time. Not too much but enough to be noticed. It didn't help.

  She fell against the frame and winked up at him. "Hi."

  "What the fuck are you doin' here?" He peeked out into the yard and his driveway, which aside from his bike was completely clear, and scrunched his face. "And how the fuck did you find out where I lived?"

  She slid her finger up and down against the wood. "I've got my ways." Her eyes went from his face straight down to his flaccid cock. River narrowed his eyes and took a step over the threshold, startling her. She quickly dropped her hand from his door and stood straight. "Alright, fine," she told him. "I went back to the club and asked one of those prospects, the bald one."

  River frowned. "Styx?" She nodded. "Shit. Son of a fuckin' bitch. What'd you do, offer him a goddamn hand job instead?"

  "I just flashed him my tits and let him hold onto them for a while."

  He shook his head. "How long where you there?"

  "Not too long. Since you weren't there, I didn't see any reason for sticking around after I let him feel me up."

  "How the fuck did you get back to Crescent Beach?"

  "Who says I ever left?" She moved into his space and stared up into his eyes, watching as they grew intensely dark while staring down at her. "Can I come in?"

  "What in the fuck are you doin' here?"

  "You've asked me that question twice already?"

  "Yeah, and I'm still seekin' a goddamn answer from it."

  She lifted her shoulders and slid her tongue between her lips. "I want more of what you gave me this mornin
g, and last night."

  He rolled his eyes and threw his hand against the wall, annoyed as all fucking get out that she had not only shown up, but was now invading his personal space and time alone. Even if he didn't want the latter all that much, he sure as fuck didn't want to spend any time outside of his head with her. "Jesus."

  "And that’s exactly what I want you to have me screaming all over again tonight, River." She wrapped her hand around the center of his shirt and lifted up to her toes.

  He pulled his head back. "This is the same house I share with my mother and my kid. You've got no goddamn clue as to what the fuck you just stepped into."

  "Well are they here?"

  He groaned. "No."

  "Then I know exactly what I’ve just stepped into." She threw her arms around his neck and pouted her lips. "Don't you wanna feel something good tonight, baby? Something that maybe loosens up all that anger and tension you've got building up inside that perfect, masculine chest of yours?"

  He thought for a minute about what she said. Did he wanna feel something good, something to help loosen up that anger? Shit yeah, he did. She just wasn't the something he was looking for, not this time. But, she was there.

  "Shit." He wrapped a hand around her waist, then dropped it down to her ass and squeezed tight. She yelped. "Once we're done tonight, I want you gone, you hear me? I don't care how the fuck you get home, just as long as you're not still here when I rollover--"

  "Okay," she said. "Okay." She crawled her fingers up into his hair and he dipped his head to kiss her. And as their lips touched and her tongue slipped inside his mouth to mingle and twist with his, he felt a spark of... absolutely nothing at all, mixed in with a little bit of nausea and a whole hell of a lot of goddamned regret.

  "Shit," he mumbled between her lips. He dropped his hand from her ass and pulled back despite her eagerness and desperation to keep him close. "My dick's not up for this shit with you tonight, darlin'."