Respectable Riot (Riot MC, #6)

by Karen Renee

  With a soft tilt of my head and in a softer voice, I said, “No. Certainly not, seeing as he was served yesterday.”

  Monty’s eyes moved over my head, his face turning thoughtful. He looked back to me. “It’s strange isn’t it? All those vows about cherishing, and isn’t there one about serving each other? And then wham!” He smacked the glass counter top, making the high-end crops and leather bustiers move in the case. “He’s been served. Just to get things moving to dissolve a marriage, one of the verbs from the wedding vows is used. ‘Served’. Strange, no?”

  I pursed my lips skeptically. “Sorry Monty, but ‘served’ isn’t in any of the vows I’ve ever heard. Though you’re right, getting served is a weird term for any legal documents being delivered. Then again, I suspect many lawyers are wordsmiths deep down and whoever came up with the term decided to be playful with their word choices.”

  Monty touched the tip of my nose with his index finger. “Sensible as ever, Janie. I could always count on you to bring my hot-air balloon of a mind back down to earth.”

  The man at the register finally completed the transaction with his customer and moved toward us. “Who is this lovely lady? And how do you know her?”

  Monty grinned and started, “It’s a long–”

  “Story!” I said with him. Sad as it was, crazy as it was, that was our standing joke. We were two oddball peas in a pod, and how we came to be such good friends was indeed a long story.

  Monty had helped me through my parent’s divorce, which hit at the beginning of my sophomore year. He then helped me get through high school. I helped him navigate high school as well as I could. I never felt like I had helped him half as much as he did me, but he argued otherwise. And if there was anything he could do better than me, it was argue.

  Now, as he brought out a shiny box which said “LELO” on it, he was tipping the scales his way again. “This–” He caressed the rectangular box reverently. “This will send you out of Earth’s orbit, let alone the stratosphere.”

  “Will she be able to get back down?” a sandy-brown-haired woman asked.

  Monty leveled a dour gaze on her. “There’s something legal that can send me flying that high? I’m not sure getting back down is a concern, Mara.”

  I could see both points but I giggled when the real question hit me. “Monty-Mon, how would you know this, seeing as you don’t have the required, um, anatomy to verify such a thing?”

  He looked abashed, but it morphed to reluctance. “I really should not share this,” he started.

  “But,” I said, and heard it in stereo, because Mara said it too.

  Monty rolled his eyes. “Women’ll be the death of me yet. I’ve seen this in action, and let’s leave it at that.”

  I’ve been known to be slow on the uptake before, but this Mara woman certainly was not slow.

  “Do you mean porn? Like how some of those stars film with their Hitachis,” she demanded.

  He hesitated and his chest moved, telling me he was biting back laughter.

  “Monty!” I hollered.

  “Janie-J, cool it. I should’ve told Mara she was right.”

  “A woman let you watch her—”

  “Now, Tamara. I’m not going there.”

  She leaned in, fast and full of menace. “It’s just ‘Mara.’ Got it?”

  “Yes,” Monty muttered.

  “You’re not going where? Where would you have been able to observe this thing at work?” I asked, stroking the box.

  “Again with the death of me, Janie. Jaywalking across Blanding during sophomore year wasn’t enough for you, eh?” He paused. “A customer informed me of a...gathering. Open minds only and would I be able to bring a Lelo with me? I expressed confusion.”

  “Confusion?” Mara asked.

  “Yes. A robustly-numbered, open-minded group shouldn’t need a Lelo. Clamps, crops, other role-playing accessories—”

  “Accessories!” she barked. “You need to look that word up, yo!”

  “Anyway, I didn’t see how a self-pleasure toy could be needed, but that is how I know this bad boy will send you soaring to the stars.”

  I giggled and put a hand on Monty’s forearm. “Monty, you’re always good for what ails me, but I never saw this conversation coming my way!”

  WITH THE ENGINE RUNNING on my car, I was debating going home when my cell rang. I picked it up to see Andrea was calling. “Hey Andi,” I answered.

  “Hi. Liar tells me you came by last night. Everything okay?”

  “Mmm, it will be.”

  She chuckled. “‘It will be’? What does that mean? And Liar said Beast left when you did but his bike’s still here. Did you take him back to the compound?”

  “Slow your roll there, Barbara Walters,” I joked.

  She laughed. “Spill, and I’ll drop the 20-20 act.”

  “Fine. It means Trent cottoned onto me being...recovered.”

  “Oh,” she said in a small voice.

  “Yeah. Worse, um, he found something I left in the bed to, um, take care of my own—”

  “Oh, boy. How’d that go over?”

  I took a deep breath. “To be vulgar, like a turd in a punch bowl.”

  “Really? That’s surprising.”

  I barked a laugh. “Are you joking? It is not surprising, and then, because of it, he decided we were having sex.”

  “Wait a minute. Didn’t he get papers, or is that tomorrow?”

  “No, he got served, on Saturday. Then he tried to force himself on me.”

  “He what?” She nearly shrieked.

  “Yeah. I got away. Told him I was going for a drive–”

  “And I was out cold when you needed me. I’m so sorry, honey.”

  “It’s no biggie. In some weird way, it felt almost...better to unload on a near stranger.”

  There was a lengthy pause. “So, Beast is a good listener, huh?”

  Absently, I watched the traffic on Argyle Forest Boulevard. “I guess so. Or the amaretto sours made me chatty.”

  She laughed. “That’ll do it, all right!”

  Beast

  It was going to take nearly an hour for his sheets to wash and dry, and Beast hated sleeping on warm sheets. Even without their patches, the prospects were bikers to their core, so once Beast knew they were not day-drinking, he left them to making his bed when the sheets were dry. On a Sunday, his options for blowing off steam were limited, especially without a bed at the ready.

  Before he could get off his barstool, his cell buzzed in his back pocket. He whipped it out to see Brianne’s name. He clenched the phone while his eyes closed and he took in a deep breath.

  What more could she possibly have to say?

  “Yeah,” he answered.

  “Da–, Beast. I’m so sorry. I should’ve–”

  His chuckle devolved into a menacing groan. “Yeah, you should’ve done a lot of things, Bri.”

  “I’m sorry. I–,” she said in a small voice.

  “No, you’re many things, but sorry for what you did to me is not one of them.”

  She sighed. “Devin’s trying to fix it.”

  “And so am I. Between the two of us, I hope it gets fixed and quickly. There an actual reason for your call?”

  He wanted to ask about Katherine, but it wouldn’t be good for him or for any of them.

  “Well, I thought maybe you could talk to Katherine.”

  His chest got tight, and he wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t. “Why would you do that to her? She’s–”

  “What do you mean, ‘do that to her’? She loves you, and she misses you.”

  “I’ll always love her, and I miss her too. But, you put me and her in this situation. It’s time to pull up your panties and take responsibility. Hell, she’s fifteen months old. Devin needs to be–”

  “It’s not the same,” Brianne said, in a wobbly voice.

  “Too bad, Bri. You shouldn’t have lied to me. And not because it hurt me as much as it did, but because everything yo
u do impacts that little girl now. So get your shit together, and help Devin bond with his little girl.”

  “Beast,” she started, but he ended the call.

  He didn’t know what was worse, her thinking that it was cool for him to talk to a little girl who wasn’t his or her thinking asking him to do that wouldn’t hurt him. Actually, it didn’t hurt him, it killed him. Katherine deserved the world from her parents, and Beast had thought he and Brianne were doing that as well they could. He loved his little girl, but he didn’t love her mother. Brianne was a one-night-stand, and he was stupid enough having unprotected sex, but getting sucked into a loveless marriage was not something he would do. When he found out Katherine wasn’t his, he realized not marrying Bri equaled dodging a massive bullet.

  Problem was, when he held Katherine, he was gone for that girl. It tore him up to leave Biloxi, but he knew if he stayed in town, he’d fuck up Devin’s chance to build a family with Brianne. He wouldn’t give up his claim to Katherine if he stuck around, so he’d put in for a transfer and moved.

  Time would tell if it had been a good idea or not.

  CHAPTER 6

  Janie

  WHEN I GOT BACK TO the house Sunday evening, Trent wasn’t home. I didn’t expect him to be there. Most of the time, Trent was a creature of habit, and Sundays, when the weather was mild, were always reserved for golf. Tee times were all written on a calendar hanging on the pantry door in the kitchen. I never understood this habit, but I figured it was for his own mindset because I never really gave a darn about when he’d be out waving a little metal stick in the air. The past week, I had noticed he had a mid-afternoon tee-time, and Trent lived for the nineteenth hole.

  It was rapidly growing dark, so I figured my time alone in the house would be limited. In our bedroom, I nabbed my pillows, pajamas, clothes for the next day, and my toiletries. After I took my things to the guest room, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to take another pass at the master, and grabbed my laptop, iPod, and fancy alarm clock with a docking port for the iPod.

  By the time I had it all set up, I realized I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch and I couldn’t remember the last time I did a grocery run. I chuckled, thinking of the changes Trent had coming his way without me around.

  That was a mistake since it triggered my anxiety as I started thinking about all the changes coming my way. Sure, they were all for the better because I would not waste my time with a man who didn’t want a family. Not now that my heart had fallen for a baby I lost.

  I sat on the bed and deep-breathed. When I had it together, I opened my DoorDash app and ordered shrimp lo-mein, won-ton soup, and crab rangoons from Hot Wok. Then I trekked out to the kitchen to find that there were still two bottles of Pinot Grigio in the wine fridge. Trent’s arm had to be twisted to get him to drink white wines, and I was more of a chardonnay girl.

  I uncorked one and pulled out a crystal wine glass. It was a wedding gift from Trent’s mother, and it was specifically made for a dry reisling or a pinot grigio; it was squat with delicate edges. As I looked at the glass and envisioned filling it to the half-way point, I realized this was ridiculous. I was done with maintaining appearances and doing things right just because somebody else said so.

  I opened another cabinet that was full of my favorite tumblers, coffee mugs, and other stuff Trent had deemed too tacky or kitschy over the years. On my tiptoes, I pulled down a huge glass I had bought at a dollar store. I never understood why Trent didn’t like this glass, other than the fact it cost a buck. Who would ever know that, I had no idea. He also told me it was a water goblet and not made for wine.

  I filled that glass three-quarters of the way and realized half the bottle of wine was now in the glass.

  I shrugged and took a long pull from the glass. My anxiety diminished, but not by much. I hadn’t closed the cabinet door, and taking in all the stuff crammed inside, I was shocked by how it mirrored my life. There were so many aspects of my personality I had pushed aside and crammed to the back in deference to Trent’s ambitious political career.

  The doorbell rang and I grabbed some money from my wallet to tip the driver. He handed me the bag of food and thanked me for the tip. I pulled the rangoons out but had to wait to eat one because they were so hot it felt like they were just out of the fryer. Instead I grabbed a bowl and a soup ladle and put half the soup in the bowl, stashing the rest in the fridge. I ate at the breakfast bar, but after my second spoonful of soup my anxiety came back, more forceful than earlier. Nausea was edging in, but I needed to eat.

  I opened up my music app and queued up “Breathe Extended Version Mix” by Télépopmusik. It was a song I knew about because of Andrea. She had played this for me in the days following my miscarriage, and it helped even though I never thought it would. The song was too peppy even if it was down-tempo and chill-out in terms of the musical classification used for it. But I could see where Andrea was coming from with it. Today was another day, and I wouldn’t get anywhere if I didn’t ‘just breathe.’ As for the other part of the song, that told me to ‘just believe,’ that was a whole other ballgame. It wasn’t likely I’d believe in much of any darn thing for a long, long time. Lose a baby and your husband doesn’t care because he didn’t want the baby and blamed you for its conception. Oh, no. Believing in another day was a tall order, the likes of which I was darn certain I could not fulfill. Nevertheless, it always helped me focus on the now, and drive away anxious thoughts.

  By the time the song was done, I was able to stomach my food, and continued eating. Tons of changes were coming my way, but it was going to be all right. As I put the left over lo-mein in the fridge, my phone rang. The display showed my father calling.

  “Hey, Dad. How’s it goin’?”

  “Fine, but how are you doing?”

  I shrugged. “I’m all right. Ready for the week to begin.”

  “So, I’ve been thinking on your circumstances.”

  “My ‘circumstances?’” I asked.

  “Yes. Divorce can be messy. I wasn’t sure if you’re planning to fight Trent for the house or–”

  “No. I just want out.”

  He sighed. “I figured as much, which means you’re gonna have to figure out living arrangements.”

  “Did your parental ESP go off or something? I was just debating that not twenty minutes ago.”

  He chuckled. “No, but I have an idea I want to run by you.”

  “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  “I have a vacant condo.”

  “Dad, if it’s the one I’m thinking of, it’s in Club Continental. There’s no way I can afford rent on a waterfront property.”

  “Honey, I’m not sellin’ the place. Just pay me the HOA fees, and it’s all good, Janie.”

  “Dad, you’ve got to be losing money on this. So let me kick in more than that.”

  He chuckled ruefully. “Honey, I’ve been losing money since the day you were born. Believe me, I don’t care about the money. I care about your well-being, and that’s that. So, pay the HOA fees, and the next time don’t let me find out from your mother that you’ve been suffering a physical and emotional blow because of that asshole.”

  “Fine, but I still feel like I’d really be causing—”

  “No. I need someone in there. Better you than someone I don’t know.”

  His tone had hardened, and I knew he didn’t want to argue. “Okay. Thank you, Dad.”

  “You headed back to paralegal work?”

  “I have some feelers out and polished my resume, but—”

  “But what, Punky?”

  “I guess I’ve been out of the workplace for too long.”

  “You’ll find a good position, honey.”

  “Yeah, I’m just thinking of doing something else.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Taking on quite a bit of change.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, but once it’s all done, it’ll just be done. Right?”

  “That’s right. Keep me posted. I love you.”


  “Love you too, Dad.”

  I poured a second glass of wine, found my Kindle Fire in the living room and headed to the guest room. No doubt, I should’ve been focused on job hunting, but it was Sunday and I needed to escape. I settled into the bed and started reading Beard Science. It was my favorite novel by Penny Reid, and it always transported me to the Smoky Mountains.

  An hour later I realized I had goofed. Monty had told me the Lelo needed to be charged, and I’d been home for over two hours and it had slipped my mind. With a sigh, I decided it was better to hold off on that. Grabbing my pajamas, I went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I was surprised Trent wasn’t back yet, but I wasn’t going to wait up for him either. Between not being able to sleep a few days ago and being awakened twice last night, I needed some shuteye. I locked the bedroom door and climbed into bed.

  LOUD SNORING WOKE ME up. I opened my eyes and slowly rolled over. The guest room was bright during the day, but even at night, it was brighter than the rest of the house because a street lamp was practically right outside the window. I saw the door to the room standing wide open. My eyes closed as I tried to get my temper under control, because I knew I had closed and locked that door. Turning my head to the left, I saw Trent’s profile. He was lying on his back, sawing logs.

  How did he get in here?

  I carefully extricated myself from the bed, but Trent stopped snoring. I waited and listened while the sheets rustled.

  Just before I moved toward the door, he said, “Jane?”

  “Yeah. Go back to sleep. I’ll be in the master.”

  “We sleep in the same bed, Jane.”

  “Not any more, we don’t. And how did you get in here anyway? I had the door locked.”

  He sat up. “It doesn’t take much to unlock those locks. As long as we’re married, we’re sleeping in the same bed.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  “You sleep in this house, you sleep with me.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not comfortable with that. Especially after what you did last night.”

  “Jesus, Jane! I didn’t do anything to you last night.”