Harm's Way: Riot MC Biloxi

by Karen Renee

  A moment later, he stared at me with fire in his eyes and growled into the phone, “Come again?”

  I sat up holding the sheet to my chest as an uneasy feeling overwhelmed me.

  “Fuck, no. I want to beat the shit out of his ass. Do—”

  Irritation washed over his face.

  “Roman! I don’t fuckin’ care about how his body is found. Do you understand what he fuckin’ did to my woman? I’m taking that fucker apart limb by limb! Keep him until I get there.”

  I skirted around Har, and grabbed my underwear and bra. At my overnight bag, I grabbed a t-shirt and shorts.

  When I realized the room was too silent, I looked at him. His eyes were on me and he didn’t look happy.

  I put on my bra. “They have Wycliffe, I take it?”

  His lips pressed together as his eyebrow arched. Yet, he stayed silent.

  I crossed my arms. “What’s going on?”

  He looked away from me, frowning. When he looked back to me, his expression cleared.

  “We got the surveillance footage from your sister’s gym. Block was watching it for the third time when he realized Dixon, Diana’s brother, is the man who posed as ‘Wycliffe.’”

  I shook my head. “That can’t be right. He was in Jacksonville yesterday.”

  His chin dipped. “Yeah, so he had more than enough time to get here after Diana got into my house. Hell, I opened the door to the fucker because I thought it was one of my brothers coming to help me deal with Diana.”

  My eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

  “Yeah, and I had wanted to keep it that way. Why are you getting dressed?”

  I scoffed while I pulled on my panties. “You aren’t the only one who wants to punch that asshole.”

  His gaze tipped down for a moment.

  “You aren’t getting any licks in, Stephanie.”

  “The hell I’m not,” I said, and my hand went to my hip.

  He took a deep breath. “You’re staying here, babe.”

  My eyes shifted to the bed and back to him. I smiled. “Why would I do that?”

  His look said I wouldn’t like his answer, but he stepped close to me.

  “Because I’m asking you to stay here.”

  My head tilted a touch. “Now you are. Five seconds ago, you told me I was staying put.” I paused and stared into his green eyes. “You’re trying to keep me in the dark because you intend to kill him.”

  The bob of one eyebrow was his only response.

  I ached to touch him, but his calm demeanor seemed fake and I suspected his temper was close to the surface. After a very long blink, I looked at him again, and that expression was still blank.

  “You can’t kill him,” I whispered.

  Open hostility took over his face.

  “The fuck I can’t,” he grumbled.

  I threw my hand out to the side. “How many other women has he conned? Do you—”

  “I don’t care,” he hissed.

  Both of my hands were on my hips and I leaned toward him. “You should! I’m not his only victim, of that I’m sure. And he needs to pay for all the problems he’s caused me and any other woman.”

  His lips curled with disdain. He leaned toward me. “It’s great you want him to pay up, babe. And it’s nice you care about the other victims. But you need to face facts. He isn’t going to pay for shit through the legal system.”

  “You don’t know that if he never goes to jail!”

  His sigh filled the room, sounding like an angry animalistic groan.

  I expected him to stalk away from me.

  Instead he leaned even closer. “I don’t care about the past. I care about making sure he never does this shit again. The best way for that to happen is to take his ass out. Right now, we have a decent scenario for that to happen.”

  Looking into his eyes, I knew there was no changing his mind and it disturbed me. Reflexively, my lips pursed, I turned around and I walked to the other side of the bed. I heard his belt buckle clink and caught sight of him pulling on his jeans.

  “You’re going commando,” I blurted.

  He smirked. “Yeah. You got anything else to say to me?”

  My eyes slid to the side and I fought pouting.

  “I suppose not.”

  “Look at me.”

  I gave him my eyes, but his jeans hanging open distracted me.

  “Won’t tell you again, Priss.”

  I glowered up at him.

  He chuckled.

  I arched my brows in question.

  “I have something else to say to you.”

  When his pause became loaded silence, I asked, “And that is?”

  “I love you.”

  My stomach dipped, and I gave him a small smile. “I love you, too.”

  His head turned just enough that he was looked at me from the corner of his eyes.

  “Feels like there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

  I shook my head. “No. You have your ‘decent scenario,’ and that’s that. I thought about riding to the clubhouse a few minutes after you leave, but I’m not going to do that. You said honesty is key between us, so there you have it. I’ll stay here even though I really don’t fucking like it.”

  He erupted with a growl so loud I thought it could be heard in the rooms next to us. After he stooped to grab his t-shirt, his eyes glittered at me.

  “Put some pants on. You’re riding with me.”

  I fought a smile. “I can ride in —”

  “No,” he clipped out. He yanked the t-shirt over his head viciously before he pointed at me. “You’re riding with me. On my bike. So put on some pants. Don’t give me any lip, Combes.”

  I didn’t see what the big deal was about whether I was in shorts or pants, but his tone brooked no argument. Luckily, I had packed my favorite jeans, so I tugged them on and put on my boots. By the time I was ready, Har was putting on his cut.

  I opened my mouth to ask why I had to ride with him, but he gave me a look which told me to think twice.

  He nodded. “You’re gonna get one lick in with the asshole. After that, you’re in my room.”

  When my lips parted, he shook his head again.

  “I was just going to say, fine. You don’t need to be so bossy.”

  He chuckled and it sounded sinister. “Bossy is all I know, babe. So get used to it.”

  “Why the about-face?” I asked.

  He glowered at me. “I don’t fuckin’ know, and you should let it go or I might change my mind again.”

  Chapter 25

  Desperate

  Stephanie

  SITTING BEHIND HAR on his bike felt strange. My hands yearned to grab the grips of the bike, but he was in my way. He shifted in front of me before his hands shot back to grab my wrists to wrap my arms around him.

  “Scoot closer, Miss Priss.”

  That wasn’t a hardship by any means, but after I slid closer he shook his head.

  “Closer, babe. I want you plastered to me.”

  I rolled my eyes, but pulled myself so close my crotch was against his ass and my breasts were tight against his chest.

  “Better,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

  He started his bike, and a new thrill shot through me. My hips fidgeted, and Har laughed. Feeling his laughter through my hands and my torso pressed to his gave me a different thrill.

  Besides that first time when I was ten, I hadn’t ridden behind anyone. My arms around Har, and the feel of his bike beneath us, I knew this ride would be epic.

  On the open road, I learned I was not wrong.

  While the ride was epic, it was also too short. As he pulled into the forecourt, I frowned. I always thought not being in control of the bike would freak me right the hell out, but behind Har, it felt good. Better than good, right.

  I sighed as he shut down the engine.

  He patted my thigh. “You first, babe.”

  While standing at the side of the bike, I took off my helm
et and watched him dismount. When he saw my face, a slow smile spread across his. “Yeah. That’s what I like to see. We’re gonna talk about that when all this shit is through.”

  “Talk about what?” I asked as he put his helmet on the bike seat.

  He arched a brow calling bullshit, but said, “You being on my the back of my bike. The way it fuckin’ should be.”

  My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to start in, but he put his finger on my lips. His other hand grabbed my helmet and put it next to his.

  “Later, hon.”

  I walked toward the clubhouse, but he grabbed my hand to whirl me in the opposite direction.

  “You say nothing until I give you the nod, got it?”

  “Sure thing.”

  We rounded a medium-size pre-fabricated metal shed, and the prospect who delivered the groceries stood guard at the door.

  He nodded to Har, but asked, “What’s she doin’ here, President?” His face shifted immediately to regret. “Sorry, sir. I shouldn’t—”

  Har shook his head. “No. It’s good you asked. She made a case for getting a few licks in, and I’m giving her a shot.”

  The prospect looked skeptical, but directed the look at me.

  Har chuckled. “Work on your poker face, prospect.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, as he unlocked the door for us.

  Two steps into the room and I stopped dead. Joules, Brute, and Roman were inside, leaning against the wall. A thin blonde-haired woman sat in a cane-back Bentwood cafe chair. She had a navy-blue bandana stuffed in her mouth and her eyes were narrowed to slits. A pungent odor hit me, and I noticed a bucket under her chair. I almost felt sorry for her.

  Almost.

  My gaze moved to the left and I saw a man seated in an identical chair. I fought my head rearing back because he didn’t look anything like Wycliffe. But as I took in his features, I realized he was Wycliffe. He’d let his kinky-curly hair grow out, a drastic change to the clean-cut appearance I knew. Stubble lined his face. When his dull brown eyes caught mine, the skin crinkled around his eyes as if he were smiling around his gag.

  This was a bad idea.

  Har hooked his arm around my neck and turned us both so he could drop his face to mine. His eyes seemed to glow.

  “Don’t let them see you sweat, Combes. You wanted this. I’m giving it to you. Don’t make me regret it, baby,” he said in a whisper so faint I strained to make out all his words.

  I nodded.

  His grip on my neck tightened, his other hand cupped my cheek and he planted a hot and heavy kiss on me. The moment my hands hit his sides, he pulled back and smiled. “Let ’im have it.”

  Brute shoved off the wall, folded his arms across his expansive chest, and glowered at us with all his might. “What in the hell is she doing here?”

  Tension filled the small room.

  I heard Roman breath in sharply through his nose.

  Joules muttered under his breath. “Show respect, Brute.”

  Brute shook his head and his familiar brown eyes glared at me. “You need to get the hell out of here, Steph. That fuck doesn’t deserve to breathe, let alone breathe the same air as you. Know you’re stubborn as all hell, but for one goddamn time in your life you need to let a man handle this shit.”

  Little would Brute ever know, he was that close to convincing me to leave. But pointing out my stubborn nature and insisting I ‘let a man handle’ my shit was the wrong thing to say. I returned his glare, but swung a questioning gaze over my shoulder to Har. He had angry eyes pinned to Brute, but he felt my look. His head tipped just enough to tell me to get on with things.

  As I walked toward Dixon, I saw Diana’s bound feet extend out and I stopped. I tilted my head down to give her a glare. She made muffled noises behind her gag. Part of me wanted to hear what she had to say, but the other part of me knew it wouldn’t be worth hearing.

  When I pulled even with Dixon, I shot a look over my shoulder to Joules. “Would you mind taking his gag out? I need to talk to him.”

  Joules grimaced. “Lady, if you’re after that original—”

  I shook my head. “I resigned myself to the original being gone a long time ago. As easy as it is to make copies, it’s a lost cause. But I know I’m not his only mark. So, I want to ask him some questions.”

  “My president’s sanity is the only question worth asking right now,” Brute muttered.

  Like a flash, Roman shoved Brute against the wall by the lapels of his cut. As big and brawny as Brute was I couldn’t imagine how much force that required, but then I noticed Har was at Roman’s back trying to shove Roman out of his way.

  Yowza.

  Every time I thought I knew how deep their brotherhood ran, I was wrong. I admired Roman in a new way for putting himself between Har and Brute. Those two had fought like hell even when they were teenagers. I could only imagine how they fought as adults.

  My imaginings were cut short when Joules dragged Har away from Roman and Brute.

  “Get your shit together, Harmful.”

  Har dislodged Joules’s hold with a vicious roll of his shoulders. He stalked to Dixon and tugged the gag free, but not before he got in Dixon’s face. “You answer her questions straight or I dunk this gag in the bucket before shoving it back in your mouth.”

  Dixon turned his dead-eyed gaze to me.

  “Why did you go to the gym to see my sister?”

  He smiled and I wondered what I ever saw in him.

  “My sister called me and said a woman named Stephanie was living with her man. I laughed and said I used to live with a woman with that name, and her last name was Combes. Diana said that was your name, too.”

  That didn’t answer my question, but I had to wonder how Diana had my last name. My question must have been written on my face and he laughed at my expense.

  “Not hard to pilfer through mail before it’s collected. You always were such a dumbass.”

  Har let out a growl, but I shook my head at him.

  “Believe me, I’ve smartened up since you. None of that answers why you went to the gym.”

  He shrugged. “Told Di, I had the perfect way to get him out of town. Knew if I visited your sister, you’d tell him and he’d split to find me.”

  One look at Har and I knew not to say anything about the Riot brothers in Jacksonville.

  Dixon continued. “Then Di could take her sweet time fucking up your shit inside his place.”

  I tamped down my urge to yank his sister’s hair out by the roots. Barely. “And you drove all the hell-way out here, why? To fuck with me while Har was gone?”

  His face twisted as if I disgusted him. “You stole Diana’s man, and she’s pregnant with his baby. Figured I would force you out of the picture.”

  Dixon’s disappointment when I didn’t react to his sister’s so-called pregnancy almost made me smile.

  Across the room, Roman laughed. “Asshole, you need to give that shit up. Your sister couldn’t hold her bladder earlier. I dipped a pregnancy test into her bucket. She isn’t pregnant.”

  After a deep breath, I asked, “How many others?”

  “Just you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I meant the identity theft.”

  He stared past me, and clammed up. Har lunged for the bucket under Diana’s chair. Dixon whipped his eyes at Har, but said, “Seven since you. Four before.”

  My chin dipped with a nod, and I realized Har was right. What he did in the past couldn’t be changed, and it didn’t help knowing about it.

  Still, my curiosity got the better of me. “You live with those people?”

  He nodded. “My girlfriend expects me back tonight.”

  From the corner of my eye I saw Roman and Joules exchange a look, but something told me he was lying.

  I turned to see Roman staring at me. “You have his phone, don’t you? I would think a girlfriend would’ve called sometime today. We women like to know when men are going to hit the road and all that shit which makes us a g
eneral nag.”

  I arched a brow at Dixon because, as Wycliffe, he’d always said I nagged too much.

  He made a noise in the back of his throat, and I stepped backward before he could spit at me. Har was moving to hit him, but I threw a hand out to stop him. I’d had enough. My anger had been simmering from the moment the prospect questioned my presence. An attempt to spit at me pushed everything to the boiling point.

  I shuffled my feet a little. Then I clenched my fist and socked him on the side of his nose. I thought I heard a crack, but for all I knew it was my imagination – though with my luck it was probably one of my bones breaking.

  Blood poured from Dixon’s nose and he was twisting violently in his restraints. I assumed he wanted to put his hands on his nose. Diana was screaming behind her gag and glaring at me.

  I turned to leave, but Har asked, “Why’d you take the pictures?”

  My lips parted, but luckily my jaw didn’t drop wide open.

  I noticed Dixon looked between us both. “Knew my time would be up soon. She’s got great fuckin’ tits, and they’re real. Opportunity presented itself since she sleeps like a log. Couldn’t believe she fell asleep with the fuckin’ light on. I wanted a souvenir, but after I took ’em, I realized they were a great insurance policy.”

  “Insurance,” I breathed out before I turned back to the asshole, but Har stopped me.

  “Nope. Told you, one lick. You did it, and you did good. Go to my room.”

  “No,” I hissed.

  “You promised,” he whispered.

  The look on his face told me I had to stick by it, but I didn’t do it gracefully.

  “Fine. But please, honey, fuck him up for me.”

  His lips pressed together while he closed his eyes and I knew he fought laughing. That pleased me so much, I went up on tip-toes and brushed my lips against his, but his hands cupped my cheeks and he deepened the kiss just long enough to make me want more.

  He rested his forehead against mine. “Go,” he whispered.

  I scurried out of the shed. As I wandered back to the clubhouse, another biker I hadn’t met walked toward me. He carried a wooden bat in his hand. The patch on his cut read, “Massive,” and this guy certainly was. His long brown hair was slicked back in a low ponytail and his eyes raked up and down my body before he nodded at me.