Harm's Way: Riot MC Biloxi
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Harm's Way (Riot MC Biloxi)
Dedication
Playlist
Chapter 1 | Bitten by the Bug
Chapter 2 | A Woman Who Fits
Chapter 3 | Don't Get Your Knickers in a Twist
Chapter 4 | It's a Slum
Chapter 5 | Pink's Your Color
Chapter 6 | Thank You Suzy Junior
Chapter 7 | Always Pay the Price
Chapter 8 | Want to Get to Know This Chick
Chapter 9 | Don't Get Along with Gravy
Chapter 10 | You're the Worst
Chapter 11 | I Don't Feel Like It
Chapter 12 | Roommates with Benefits
Chapter 13 | Doesn't Belong Around Your Pretty Neck
Chapter 14 | Run of the Mill
Chapter 15 | Why I'm Part of the Riot
Chapter 16 | Got My Heart Running the Same Way
Chapter 17 | Put a Cut on Her Already
Chapter 18 | Where I Draw the Line
Chapter 19 | Not Supposed to Be Sappy
Chapter 20 | Less Than Upstanding
Chapter 21 | Like You Lookin' At Me Like That
Chapter 22 | Getting Out of His Life
Chapter 23 | The Price You've Got to Pay
Chapter 24 | Winning Trifecta
Chapter 25 | Desperate
Chapter 26 | I'm Just... Me
Chapter 27 | Wear My Patch
Chapter 28 | But It's Family
Chapter 29 | I'll Allow It
Chapter 30 | Eavesdropping
Epilogue | Tip for My Dealer
Sneak Peek at Brute's Strength | Chapter 1 | Number. Now. | Kenzie
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Other books by Karen Renee
About Karen Renee
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Copyright © 2021 Karen Renee
All Rights Reserved.
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Amazon.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Photographer: Golden Czermak / Furious Fotog
Model: Dylan Horsch
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The Riot MC Series
Book 0.5: Starting the Riot
(Jackie & Volt)
Book 1: Unforeseen Riot
(Mallory & Cal)
Book 2: Inciting a Riot
(Lorraine & Vamp)
Book 3: Into the Riot
(Tennille & Razor)
Book 4: Calming the Riot
(Andrea & Liar)
Book 5: Foolish Riot
(Trixie and Roll)
Book 6: Respectable Riot
(Janie & Beast)
Dedication
To M – I hope Har’s story is everything you hoped it would be.
Playlist
SHAPE OF MY HEART by Sting
SHAPE OF YOU by Jamie Cullum
SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO by The Clash
TIPTOE by Imagine Dragons
SHE RIDES by Danzig
SUPERBASS by Nicki Minaj
THE PRICE YOU GOTTA PAY by Buddy Guy feat. Keith Richards
RUNNING ON SUNSHINE by Jesus Jackson
Chapter 1
Bitten by the Bug
Stephanie
IT WASN’T MY FIRST time sitting a poker table, and it wasn’t the first time I was the only woman at the table. Or the only woman in the room, for that matter. It wasn’t the first time I got greedy either, but it was the first time I risked my entire paycheck on an illegal poker tournament.
The flop had fallen with the five of spades, seven of spades, and the five of diamonds. The turn had been another seven, giving me four of a kind, I still looked at the board. Gleaming in the orangish-yellow light sat the river card, an eight of spades.
Of all the time for my shitty luck to strike, why did it have to be now? I needed to kick my own ass because I damn well knew better.
I’d flopped the nut full house, bet accordingly, and all the other men at the table dropped like flies... except Har. When the turn card had improved my hand to four of a kind, did I make a continuation bet? No.
Did I represent my quad-sevens? Again, no, I checked to him. I wanted to make as much money with the hand as I could.
The eight fell, and I’d ignored its suit when I shoved my stack all-in.
Greedy and stupid! So damn stupid.
“Jenkins, there re-buys for this game?” Har yelled across the table.
My pulse pounded in my ears, and I fought widening my eyes at his words. I had to keep a stony expression, no matter what. Yet, those words hollowed out my stomach as I realized he might have a straight flush. Anyone else I’d suspect was trying to scare me off, but I knew Har from years ago. He was my former stepbrother’s best friend.
While I hadn’t seen Har in fifteen years, some things never changed. His serious demeanor hadn’t changed, and I couldn’t remember a time when he bluffed at poker. We were kids when we played, but he never bluffed. I can tell you this because I called his bluffs every single time.
And he had the goods.
Every.
Single.
Time.
I looked up from the table to Har’s stubbled cheeks, his full lips surrounded by a goatee, his narrow, angular nose, finally catching his green eyes staring at me. He still looked like the bad boy next door, only now he was all man. His emerald eyes squinted as though he wondered if he knew me. It was the fourth time he’d done that, but I wouldn’t tell him who I was.
A wide, friendly smile spread across his face, and the skin around his eyes crinkled with it. “I sure hope he’s allowing re-buys, honey.”
My pulse sped up, but I didn’t dare speak.
“Wanna know why?”
My shoulder moved in the slightest of shrugs.
I barely heard his short, deep, low chuckle. “Because you’re gonna need to re-buy, and I really hope you do. It’ll keep things interesting.”
Jenkins, a brawny black man who ran invitation-only poker games at various homes in Biloxi, yelled from the kitchen, “It’s ten-fuckin’-thirty, asshole. No! There ain’t any re-buys!”
Har’s eyebrow jumped for a second. “Too bad. I call your all-in bet, honey.”
He turned his cards over, and I was right. No bluffing. Straight flush, he had the four and six of spades.
I kept my sevens face down and slid them to the bottom of the deck before I stood up.
“Nice hand,” I said, low enough for him to hear me.
“What’s your name?” he asked in an equally-low voice.
I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter.”
As I squeezed between people sitting at other tables in the house, I felt those green eyes tracking my movements.
My shitty luck struck one las
t time before I got to the front door.
Har may not have remembered me, but my former stepbrother Sam had just come through the front door. Instant recognition lit his face, and he shouted before I could tell him to play it cool.
“Stephie! Holy shit! I haven’t seen you since Dad got rid of your mom. How the hell are ya?”
He asked his question while grabbing me by the waist, lifting me off my feet, and shaking me around like a rag doll. No doubt about it, the Riot MC boys gave Sam the most appropriate road name when they dubbed him “Brute.”
“Sammy, put me down!”
The noise of the other tables continued to fill the room, but I still heard Har’s distinct voice call out, “Jenkins, this table’s on a break. Got it?”
Sam put me on my feet, and I patted his bulky chest. “It’s great to see you, Sammy, but I gotta get out of here. Okay? Call me, we’ll catch up.”
I skirted to his left, but Sam blocked me. “Why you gotta get outta here? What’s wrong?”
“She lost her stack to me,” Har said from behind me.
I closed my eyes praying aliens would beam me up to their hovering space ship. Anything to get away from these two. When I opened my eyes, Har and Brute had shifted so they were side-by-side.
“Weren’t gonna tell me who you are? Really, Steph? It’s been a while, but goddamn, I didn’t know you went and became a fuckin’ snob just like your mom always was.”
My pulse thrummed in my ears again, but this time because of anger. Giving in to my urge to tell him off would make me as much of a shrew as Mom always was to Brute’s dad, though.
After a few moments, I said evenly, “I’m not a snob, Michael.”
He opened his mouth to say more, but I shoved by Brute, out of the house, and ran down the driveway. I heard someone following, and I looked over my shoulder as Har grabbed me there.
“Stephie, stop.”
We stood next to my bike, which was the first stroke of good luck I’d had.
“What?” I asked, turning around.
“Jesus. Are you a robot? That’s the same tone you used inside, but the fire in your eyes tells me you’re pissed as hell.”
I pulled in a deep breath. “Not a robot, Michael. Did you need something?”
He shoved his hand into his thick sandy-blond hair. “You just visiting?”
“No.”
His lips pressed together, and he raised his chin while keeping his eyes on me.
Finally, he said, “Well, no offense, but I don’t think you need to come to another party Jenkins throws.”
I smiled, dug my keys out of my pocket, and slung my leg over my bike. “I’ll keep that in mind, Mike. Do us both a favor? Don’t waste my chips.”
Normally it was hard for me to say what I loved most about my bike. The sleek lines, the flames painted on the silver gas tank, or the soft leather seat. But right then and there, I most loved those loud pipes because they drowned out Har’s questions before I roared off into the night.
Har
“SONUVABITCH! PREZ, tell me Stephanie wasn’t on that fuckin’ Harley. What in the fuck is she doin’ on a bike?”
Har wished she wasn’t riding a Harley, but Brute couldn’t possibly wonder what she was doing on a hog. The two of them were thick as thieves growing up, and he’d helped Brute fix his first bike. Stephie had hung around every chance she had to help or just watch. Naturally, when they finally had that thing running, Brute gave into her when she begged to ride with him.
When he brought her back, it was clear she’d been bitten by the bug. Har had just never thought it would result in her getting herself a Harley.
“Did you know she’d moved here?” he asked.
Brute grunted. “What? She’s living here? Fuck.”
Brute could say that again.
All night, Har’d known something about her was familiar. That had distracted him to no end. Each time he’d examine one of her features, he knew he hadn’t ever kissed her, which meant he damn sure hadn’t fucked her. Focusing on her curvy pink lips, those full round tits, and her gorgeous hazel eyes meant he wanted to fuck her in the worst way.
Until he found out who she was.
He didn’t like any of this, but he seriously didn’t like her living in Biloxi.
If she was a distraction at the table tonight, she’d be an even bigger distraction in the days to come.
And the last thing Har needed was a woman distracting him.
Chapter 2
A Woman Who Fits
Stephanie
MY OLDER SISTER, SUSAN, blew out a sigh. “What were you thinking, Stephanie?”
Laying on the couch, I stared at the ceiling. “I thought I knew what I was getting into. Seriously, Suze, it’s rare, and I mean rare, that quads get beaten by a damn straight flush.”
The lengthy pause on her end told me she was calling up her patience. “That isn’t the point, Stephie. You’re all alone out there and you blew your entire paycheck on a poker game!”
Strange thing about my bad beat was that losing the money didn’t bother me. Losing the money to Har bugged me. Of all the damn people, why him?
And why did I care?
“What are you gonna do for the next two weeks, Steph?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Well, I got enough food for the week. Won’t be good food exactly, but I’ll survive. And I’ll have my tips each day, so, I can get by.”
“‘You’ll survive!’ I thought you were moving out there to make more money so you could dig out of the hole that asshole put you in.”
I sighed. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Believe me, neither do I. We’ve beaten that dead horse plenty! What if he finds you? If you need help, I’m eight hours away.”
I chuckled. “Like you could help me with that.”
Her sigh sounded almost like a groan. “What that asshole did put you in physical danger, Steph. What’s going to stop him from—”
“He’s not going to find me out here. Besides, it was two years ago. He got as much out of me as he could and he isn’t getting any more, Suze. I’ve frozen my credit, and taken every precaution I can to protect myself.”
“You don’t have the pictures, though,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes, wishing I could blink this problem away, but that was impossible. My live-in boyfriend of three years, Wycliffe, or at least that’s the name he’d used, had not only stolen my identity, he’d taken naked pictures of me without my knowledge or consent. Being the scum of the earth, he shared those photos far and wide, posting them to a ‘revenge pornography’ site. I didn’t know such a thing existed. And when he forwarded them to my boss, I lost my job.
To add to my problems, ‘Wycliffe’ then opened an online dating account in my name, listing my address and cell number. The account blew up since he used one of those naked pictures. I was forced to move from my apartment when a man responded to my ‘dating profile’ by showing up at my door.
The misery, the shame, and the violation knew no bounds.
And Suzy was right, I didn’t have the pictures. The problem was, even if I had the originals, there was no telling how many other pervs out there had downloaded the pics. Authorities could do little for me since Wycliffe had used a false identity (for three years!), and sadly, many authorities acted as if I let him take those pictures. If I didn’t sleep like the dead, maybe I’d have heard the sound of his phone taking the pictures or reacted to the flash, but I’ve always been a heavy sleeper. Facing people who looked at me like it was my fault added to the overall suck factor of the ordeal.
I opened my eyes. “No, I don’t have the originals, but like I told you before – even if I did, I don’t think it would help. I’m doing the best I can, Suzy.”
“I can send you money, if you need it.”
I shook my head. “No way, Suze. You pinch pennies to within an inch of their life, so you deserve every thing you work for and more.”
“So do you, honey.”
“Mom wouldn’t say that.”
“If she were still alive, I think she would say you deserve nothing but the best life has to offer.”
My eyebrow cocked because I did not believe any of that. Thinking about mom, I blurted, “Saw Sammy last night.”
“Sammy,” she whispered. Then, “You mean our former stepbrother?”
“Yep.”
“Wow. I thought he’d get out of Biloxi the first chance he got.”
“He’s part of the Riot MC.”
“What? I thought they were only in Jacksonville.”
I grinned. “Honey, they have multiple chapters. There’s one in Biloxi and he’s a member.”
Susan made a ‘hmph’ sound. “Well, how is he?”
“He’s all right I guess. We didn’t have time for a ton of chit-chat.”
“He still a husky guy or did he fill out?”
I chuckled. “Oh, he not only filled out but he’s seriously bulked-up, Suzy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, his road name is Brute and based on how he hugged me, I’d say he’s stronger than his dad.”
“That’s saying something. Remember how stepdad used to throw that humongous tire around the backyard?”
I laughed. “Vaguely. I just remember how pissed he was when I painted it with my pink nail polish.”
“Not that it should’ve mattered,” Susan muttered.
“Good grief. Are you channeling Mom? She said something similar at the time.”
She made a humming noise before she asked, “What about that friend of Sam’s? They were practically joined at the hip...”
“Yeah. He’s still around.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there. Did you run into him too?”
I chuckled. “You could say that. My chip stack went to him and he didn’t even know who I was until Sammy showed up.”
“So, insult to injury.”
“Yep,” I said, grabbing my water for a sip.
“Geez. When you step in it, you really step in it, Stephie.”
“Thanks, sis.”
She chuckled. “But seriously. We’ve eaten more than our lifetime requirement of Ramen. I can...”