by Karen Renee
I took a three-month break from the biker party scene. I had landed a job at Wal-Mart and moved into my own tiny efficiency apartment in Green Cove Springs. The complex wasn’t ideal, and I was pretty certain drug deals were going down on the corner every night. I decided to turn a blind eye and keep to myself. During the past three months, Melissa called me regularly to go to parties or bars with her. We would chat, but I put her off. I hadn’t heard from her in over a week, and I was afraid that my putting her off on the social scene had put her off of me.
I opened my door at quarter to nine on a Friday night after a grueling day at WallyWorld. I locked my door behind me, and my phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, girl!” Melissa greeted me.
“Hey, there. What’s up?”
“I’m headed to the Riot MC compound tonight for a big barbeque. Word is that they have multiple chapters in for the weekend, so they’re allowing more groupies than they normally would. Thought you might be interested. It’s been a while, ya know.”
I blew out a sigh, and said, “Sure. I’ll come. Where’s their lair?”
Melissa giggled. “Lair! You’re too funny, Trixie.”
“Whatever you say, Mel. Now seriously, I’m driving myself there so unless they’re sending up smoke signals or a bat signal, I need to know where it is.”
I hung up with Melissa once she had given me directions to their compound. I grabbed a Mountain Dew from my fridge to give myself a second wind, then I showered and made myself up for a night of hearty partying with some bikers.
I pulled into the Riot MC compound at nine forty-five. I couldn’t even count the number of Harleys, Triumphs, and Indian bikes parked in front of the clubhouse. There were swarms of bikers in their Riot MC cuts milling about in the front and the back of the clubhouse. I parked next to Melissa’s Geo Metro just as she was getting out of it. That was all we saw of each other until an hour and a half later when I caught sight of Melissa chatting with Cal, Blood, and a petite woman with red wavy hair that hung down to her ass. She was gorgeous, and Blood had his arm around her waist with his hand firmly in the back pocket of her jeans. I was out of beer and felt the need for a much stronger cocktail. Roll was nowhere to be found, but I didn’t want to go home either. I moved into the clubhouse and went straight to the kitchen to find some food. I knew better than to drink the hard stuff on an empty stomach.
I was putting together a plate when a raspy voice said, “Gonna need more tater salad if you want me to eat that plate.”
Ever so slowly, I turned my head toward the voice behind me and gave him my best-side eye. I almost fell over looking at him. He wasn’t Roll, but he could easily be a Kurt Cobain look-alike. His brown hair had blond highlights that came from riding his bike because God knew this guy hadn’t seen the inside of a barber’s shop in over six months. His goatee had the same sun-kissed look to it. I didn’t let myself dwell too much on his appearance since that would set me to drooling.
I turned back to my plate. “Lucky for you, there are extra plates over there, and you can fix your own. ’Cause this plate’s for me.”
I felt his heat at my back and saw his sandy brown hair fall over my shoulder. “You sure you won’t fix a plate for me?”
I leaned my head away. “I’m sure your arms aren’t broken, dude.”
He chuckled. “What’s your name, babe?”
“Trixie.”
He laughed outright. I was getting used to that though. I used to go by Patti, but four months ago, just before I met Melissa, I decided on a whim to try Trixie instead. Something about Patti didn’t suit me anymore.
When he was done laughing, he said, “Trix are for kids don’t you know?”
I put a few more green olives on my plate next to the small scoop of potato salad, and said, “Har, har. Think you’re so funny, don’t you?”
“Well, so do you. Makin’ fun of my road name.”
I turned around fully to look at him and saw the name patch on his cut read, “Har.”
“You can’t be serious? Why would your name be Har?”
A devilish smile split his face. “Short for Harm, baby.”
He had green eyes, and that sandy-brown goatee was even sexier when I looked at it full-on.
That was the only night I acted like a genuine, sweet butt. I did anything Har wanted, and for that matter, he did anything I wanted. When he was done, he brought in another brother from his Biloxi chapter named Brute, and the party continued.
In the morning, I was taking my walk of shame only to hear a faintly familiar voice. “You know how to show my visiting brothers a good time. You leaving so soon?”
Turning around, I saw Roll with his sleek brown hair pulled into a ponytail. He was wearing his cut without a shirt underneath it. I could see that he had extremely well-defined pectoral muscles. I couldn’t bring myself to respond to him.
He didn’t waste time filling the silence. “Didn’t I save you from a similar situation a few months back? Guess that was the wrong move.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I said in a small voice.
“Didn’t sound that way last night.”
“What do you care? You’re not even remotely interested in me,” I snapped.
He stepped toward me. “Don’t go making assumptions.”
What? Now he could not be serious, could he?
“Whatever. You’ve already made my walk of shame more shameful than it should be,” I turned on my heel mumbling, “I don’t need this shit.”
An iron grip twisted me around by my bicep. “What do you need then? Do you even know, girl?”
“You,” I said.
“Ha,” he barked. “How old are you?”
I glowered at him and tried to wrench my arm free from his warm grip.
“You can’t even be eighteen. I ain’t up for a trip to the clink for statutory.”
I wanted to spit on him but settled for saying, “I’m nineteen, and you can fuck off. I was wrong about you.”
“How could you be? You don’t even know me.”
I tilted my head up. “I know you made assumptions about me.”
“And you didn’t do the same?”
Shaking my head, I said, “Not really. You accused me of being jail bait. I don’t need that shit from anyone.”
He rumbled, “Hmm,” and then said, “First time I saw you, I pulled three rednecks just out of high school off of you. Second time, you were at an MC party that sucked because they had underaged groupies and did not give the first fuck. What was I supposed to think?”
I tilted my head to the side. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe asking my age rather than make assumptions!”
He took another step toward me, and I felt like the space was too small. His presence simply filled the room. I was close enough to him that I could smell his scent of spicy cologne blended with stale cigarette smoke. His eyes raked down and back up my body when his gaze met mine his eyes were shining. Did looking at me really result in that kind of heat in his gaze? My heart skipped a beat at the possibility.
After a moment he said, “Know your age, but I don’t know one of the key things most bitches insist on.”
He let that hang, and I realized it was a damn good thing I had spent so much time at other MC parties and biker bars. It used to bother me to no end when a man referred to women as bitches, but in my long search for Roll, I was used to it.
I jutted my chin at him slightly. “What information is that?”
“Your name.”
“Trixie.”
I thought I saw him flinch slightly, but all he said in response was, “Trixie what?”
“Trixie Baker,” I said.
He nodded at me and tucked a wayward strand of my dishwater blonde hair behind my ear. “I don’t do sloppy seconds, so I damn sure ain’t gonna be third fiddle. We’re partying all weekend. You’re around, maybe I’ll be interested.”
I could respect that since I said nearly the same thing to Iggy with the
Devil Lancers MC. I did not appreciate that he said, “maybe he’d be interested.” Maybe? I wanted to tell him to stuff it, but I had stupidly fallen for him the night when he saved my bacon from the three drunk guys I went to high school with. I looked steadily at the door and walked past Roll to leave. It took all of my willpower and discipline I didn’t even know I had in me, but if Roll thought I’d be back that night or the next night for a chance that he might be interested, he would be mistaken.
COMING SUMMER 2019!
OTHER BOOKS BY KAREN RENEE
The Riot MC Series
Unforeseen Riot
Inciting a Riot
Into the Riot
Calming the Riot
Foolish Riot (Coming Summer 2019)
Respectable Riot
Starting the Riot
The Beta Series
Beta Test
Beta Sites (Coming Soon)
Beta Baby (Coming in 2020)
ABOUT KAREN RENEE
Karen Renee is the author of Unforeseen Riot, Inciting a Riot, and Into the Riot. She has recently launched the Beta series, the first book being Beta Test. She has been writing since she was a teen, but has only recently brought her dream to life. Karen spent years working in the wonderful world of advertising, banking, and local television media research. She is a proud wife and mother, and a Jacksonville native. When she’s not at the soccer field or cooking, you can find her at her local library, the grocery store, in her car jamming out to some tunes, or hibernating while she writes and/or reads books.
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