Respectable Riot (Riot MC, #6)

by Karen Renee

If I wasn’t mistaken, I saw his shoulders go up in a shrug. “Honey, I’m not judging. Trent had my blessing, and I see I was wrong. So, this man is running a nude bar, it’s a lawful business.”

  Seemed my father was more open-minded than I realized. “Okay,” I whispered.

  “However, I am concerned.”

  Removing the lid, I pulled a spoon out of a drawer and stirred the whipped cream into the warm liquid. “About what?”

  As I sipped my father’s lips pressed together. He opened his mouth to speak only to close it for a moment before he finally decided what to say.

  “You’re getting divorced. You’re not yet divorced. Don’t you think this is risky behavior? Plus, and this is my real concern, it’s a little too soon, wouldn’t you say?”

  My gut said it wasn’t soon enough. I swallowed. “He loves me, Dad.”

  His lips twisted, and I couldn’t tell if he wanted to say something or not but I kept on. “And I definitely love him.”

  With soft eyes, my dad asked, “And you’re sure it’s not a rebound or anything like that?”

  I didn’t even have to think about it, my gut and my heart knew this wasn’t any type of rebound situation. “Not even a little bit.”

  I watched my dad nod, and he swung an arm at my couch so I followed him over to it.

  When we were seated, he asked, “Trent doesn’t know about this, does he?”

  “Well,” I drawled, and in the back of my mind I noted the shower had turned off.

  How was it men could take such insufferably short showers?

  My father’s flaring temper pulled me from my wayward thoughts. “Jane N. Ramos. He knows about this? You should be fleecing that bastard, and he knows you cheated...are cheating on him? Have you lost your mind?”

  From the bedroom doorway, Beast’s voice rumbled. “Considering he cheated on her with —is it four or five?— other women, that ain’t gonna fly. Though I’m no lawyer, but still.” His eyes shot to me, “And babe, your dad’s dead right. You need to take his sorry ass to the cleaners.”

  I wanted to kill Beast and I wanted to mount him at the same time. He was standing in that doorway with his jeans on, no shirt, and he was rubbing a hand towel through his hair as he spoke to us. It was a sight to see and enjoy, but I could not enjoy it because I was so stinking furious at him. In no way did I want my father to know I had been cheated on by Trent, but Beast had blown that right out of the water.

  It wasn’t that I wanted to protect Trent in my father’s eyes. I didn’t want my father to know the depths of my stupidity where my marriage was concerned. My parents always touted to me, to their friends, and occasionally to strangers that they didn’t ‘raise a dummy.’ Yet, how dumb was I when my husband cheated repeatedly?

  Through clenched teeth, I said, “David, my father didn’t need to know that.”

  He shrugged one naked shoulder, and I rolled my eyes. “Babe, it’s probably gonna come out. Especially since you just filed that police report. Better he hears it now than from the six o’clock news.”

  My father’s head swung from Beast to me, his eyes wide as saucers with a heat I’d never seen before. “Police report?”

  I glared at Beast, who had the audacity to shrug both shoulders at me as he dropped the towel. “I’ll put a shirt on. You don’t wanna tell him, I will.”

  When my eyes came back to my father, he leaned back on the couch. “I think I want to hear his version.”

  “Seriously?” I asked.

  Much like earlier, with a curt nod, my father said, “Seriously.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered as downed a large swig of my coffee and I realized that might actually be for the best. Clearly, Beast was going to give my father information whether I liked it or not, and I wasn’t in a position to kick either man out of the condo. It was my father’s property for God’s sake, so I knew I stood no chance of tossing him out, and Beast was too damn strong for me to shove out the door.

  AS SOON AS I HEARD the locks go on the door, I shot a fiery narrowed-eyed gaze at Beast’s profile. He turned to me and his eyes lit with a different kind of heat, and his hands came to my hips.

  “Don’t know what I did, babe, but I’ll shift you out of that mood right quick, now that your dad’s on his way.”

  I poked an index finger into his chest. “You! Standing in the damn doorway tousling your hair and spouting off about things–”

  His lips quirked up outright, but his eyes held a questioning light. “Tousling?”

  “Yes,” I nearly spat, and continued. “With the towel, and no shirt on, telling–”

  He grinned. “Babe, I don’t tousle anything.”

  I pointed up at him. “You did, with the towel. And then you went and–”

  The grin grew to a smile. “You’re right, actually. I do tousle, and I’m about to tousle you.”

  I squinted one eye at him and before I could ask what he was talking about, he winked. “There’s a rough Scottish version of that word.”

  My brows furrowed and I wanted to draw my words back as soon I heard them and the surprised tone I used. “How do you know that?”

  Thankfully, he didn’t take my tone the wrong way. “Had one year of college before I found the club and a different way of life. To get into college though, I took advanced English with one hell of a hard-ass teacher. I examined more English words in that time than is ever strictly necessary.”

  I halted at the vision of a teen-aged version of this man before me pouring over a book. My eyes drifted off to the side and I blinked slowly.

  “Babe,” he called.

  I looked up to him. “You read,” I said, like it was unheard of for a man to read.

  His lips parted and I saw his incisor tooth rest on the one just below it, his expression saying he didn’t want to burst the bubble I had created. “No, not really, babe.”

  My face fell, but his hands at my hips squeezed.

  “Honey, I was robbed of the chance to shower with you, but I also ran by the supermarket across the street when I went out earlier. Got more condoms—”

  I lifted my finger again. “Oh no, sir!,” I dropped my finger, but continued, “I’m hangry and I barely finished my latte. I’m eating, and then I’ll decide if I’ve forgiven you for filling my father in so bluntly.”

  And blunt it was. He even told my father about the possible granny in Trent’s ‘stable’, as Beast put it. Why he had to embellish like that, I did not know. Why my father needed to know how many women Trent had been with, I also did not know. Okay, that wasn’t strictly true. Beast’s words about it being better for my dad to hear it from me than the six o’clock news were completely accurate. That was when my body stilled.

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  “What?” he asked, moving one hand from my waist to my jaw.

  “I have to call my mom,” I blurted. I tilted my head and raised a finger again, “No, I have to eat first, and then, I have to call my mom.”

  I dropped my finger and tried to move away from Beast’s hand at my hip. His hand was expansive and he widened his fingers in order to grip me harder.

  “Run that by me again?”

  I pulled in a huge breath. “Honestly, it’s your own fault, but you were right. If my dad shouldn’t hear things from the news, then I assure you my mom especially shouldn’t hear about this shit from the extremely sensationalistic South Florida newscasts. Dad was rather subdued about everything, though I think that’s more subdued-ish, but whatever. She most definitely is going to lose her ever-loving mind, so I need sustenance, and now.”

  He exhaled through his nose, and he did a small frown. “Fine. You want left-over pizza or what are we eating?”

  My lips twisted to the side as I thought about it. “You know, I froze that chicken I made before we–”

  His hand squeezed me, and he nodded. “Let’s have that.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Beast

  BEAST REMEMBERED HER so-called ‘celery chicken,’ and no w
ay would he pass up seconds on that. It was nearly as good as his Grand-mere’s chicken casserole, just without the noodles. He squeezed her hip again as he thought about the food.

  “You said it’s frozen?”

  “Yeah,” she asked, looking up at him with her beautiful green eyes.

  He grinned. “How ‘bout you go take a shower, I’ll defrost and warm up the food.”

  Her lips pressed together like she didn’t like the idea. “I don’t think–”

  “Baby, it’s reheating stuff you already made. It’s not a big deal, and it’s damn sure not an imposition. I’m starved, and pizza ain’t gonna cut it. That chicken you made is the closest thing to something like what my Gran would’ve cooked it isn’t even funny. Believe me, no way am I gonna fuck that up. You shower, we eat. After you call your mom, maybe we’ll watch a movie or somethin’, then we’re goin’ out to gas up your car, and get my bike.”

  Her look was dubious and her tone more so when she asked, “You’re sure?”

  He wrapped both his arms around her waist, lowered his head and rested his forehead on hers. “I’m downright certain. But first, your sexy ass has to kiss me.”

  “I have to, huh?”

  He grinned. “Yep.”

  She chuckled. “Okay,” she said just before she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

  Somehow, he knew she was going to leave it at a chaste peck, but he angled his head and his tongue teased her mouth open so the kiss became more than even he meant for it to be, though he couldn’t argue with the results. When Janie pulled away from him, her eyes were heated and the look in them said she didn’t know what she wanted more: the food or him.

  His job done, he said, “Shower, hon. Food. Your mom, then we’ll see.”

  She shook her head. “I’m only listening because I’m essentially only half-caffeinated.”

  With a chuckle, he let her go, but as soon as she turned he swatted her ass playfully. “You keep tellin’ yourself that, Clumsy.”

  She kept walking, but shot a narrowed-eyed look over her shoulder. “I preferred you calling me ‘Janie-babe,’ for future reference.”

  That forced him to tip his head back and belly-laugh loudly at the ceiling.

  “HE what?”

  Beast heard this statement and he didn’t know what startled him more. The fact he could hear it as if the woman was in the room with them; or the pitch of her voice, which threatened to break glass and God only knew what it might have done to Janie’s ear drum, even with the cell phone an inch from her ear.

  What he did know was that he didn’t like it. At the same time, he imagined it would be exponentially worse if Janie’s mother had found out about the cheating, blackmail, and ensuing assault from the news instead of her own daughter.

  Janie sighed, put the phone closer to her ear. “Mom. I didn’t want you to hear it from the news.” She slid her eyes well to the side and added, “Or Dad.”

  “Your father knows?”

  Beast heard that, but it wasn’t half as loud as the first question. Janie was on the couch for the conversation, and Beast had thought he would sit in the chair in order to give her some space; but being able to hear her mother from his position, he was done with that. Since Janie was in the middle of the couch, he sat to her left, used his arm to force her body forward so he could wedge his leg behind her. Once that was done, he settled back and dragged Janie back so she was reclining against him.

  This was good and bad. It was good because he felt tension easing out of her body as soon as he had her positioned. It was bad because it caused her to delay in answering her mother.

  “Janie? Are you there?”

  Janie cleared her throat, and a warm feeling of pride shifted through him at causing that reaction. “Yeah, Mom. I’m here. Sorry. But, yeah, Dad knows because he dropped by today.”

  There was a pause, and not even on the phone with the woman, he knew it wasn’t a good sign.

  “Now what aren’t you telling me?”

  While what Janie was telling her mother would make any parent unhappy, her mother’s reaction was rubbing Beast entirely the wrong way. Janie took in a sharp breath through her nose, and at hearing Janie’s reaction that rub became infinitely worse. That meant Beast struggled with his control.

  He underestimated his struggle, because he meant to whisper but it was more of a grumble when he said, “Get her to tone it down, baby.”

  Janie’s head jerked toward him, and that put the phone directly under his chin so he distinctly heard her mother’s voice. “Who’s that, Jane Nieland Ramos? And who does he think he is to tell you to tell me ‘to tone it down?’”

  Now Beast was sharply inhaling through his nose and he gave Janie a look to underscore his earlier directive.

  “Mom...” she started, but hesitated and looked up to him.

  She held the phone from her ear, but not nearly as far as she should have. “Genuinely, how do I introduce you? I used your given name, but then you shook Dad’s hand and used your club name. So, please...”

  Her mother’s voice could be heard. “He has a club name? What would people at the country club call him?”

  Janie looked to the ceiling in exasperation, yet he could also see she was fighting laughter at her mother thinking he had anything to do with a country club, but he tipped his chin to her. “Clumsy, calm her down.”

  She put the phone back to her ear. “Listen, Mom. I–”

  Her mother interrupted and Beast felt his control slipping some more. “Did he just call you ‘Clumsy?’ You’re next to never clumsy. Who is this person? It damn sure isn’t Trent.”

  Janie and Beast both stiffened at the mention of Trent’s name.

  “No, Mom, I have a new man in my life, and before you freak out...further...Trent’s aware of him. That isn’t ideal, but Dad met Beast today because he—”

  “Did you say ‘Beast?” her mother asked, and if he hadn’t been paying close attention he might’ve missed it because it was the first thing Janie’s mother said in a normal tone since Janie revealed Trent’s dalliances.

  “Yes. That’s his motorcycle club name. I introduced him to Dad as David, because that’s his given name, but then he told Dad that friends call him Beast, so um, I don’t know, when you meet him in person the two of you can hash that out.”

  There was a long pause and no matter how hard Beast tried, and at that point he wanted to hear Janie’s mom, he couldn’t hear her mother’s voice. When Janie’s body started to relax he figured things weren’t tense.

  “Yeah, Mom, but he doesn’t just call me Clumsy, you might say he’s fond of giving me nicknames.”

  She paused. Then, her voice went firm. “You’re gonna meet him, especially if I have anything to say about it.”

  Beast’s arms reflexively squeezed her, and he relaxed into the couch.

  By the time Janie ended her conversation with her mother, Beast decided against watching a movie. Instead, he laid on her heinously-decorated but criminally-comfortable couch while he watched her lush mouth blow him and he intermittently sucked at her clit and licked her delicious folds. He didn’t let her take him to completion because he was determined to finish inside her even if he had to wear a condom. Only after she came did he allow his climax to rip through him; and he realized her ugly-ass couch was good for both sleeping and vigorous fucking.

  HAVING GASSED UP JANIE’S rental car, he parked it along the side of the Wawa gas station, and he got out of it to rest his hips against it while he waited for her to come out of the store. Their day had been fucked up almost from the get-go. He’d intended to surprise her when he came back from the coffee run, so her being up when he came back was an immediate glitch. Things went downhill from there, but in hindsight, he found he liked the way things went the rest of the day.

  His gaze traveled up to the obscenely large full moon hanging in the sky. He smirked as he remembered Janie’s contagious enthusiasm when she saw it while they approached her rental.
<
br />   “Jesus, how I love a full moon! Isn’t it gorgeous?” she asked as she turned to him.

  He’d agreed readily, but leaning against the car, he realized how right she had been. He shook his head as he remembered why she went inside. She’d threatened to get a quesadilla and a caramel macchiato because he’d deprived her of those so-called delicacies on the day Grind attacked her, but he knew she was kidding. In deference to the moon, he told her to get a “Big Grab” of Funyuns. She argued they didn’t come in that size, at least not at Wawa.

  As if his thoughts summoned her, he saw her rounding the corner of the building, carrying a large cup with a domed lid and, based on the bright red sludge within the dome, he knew it was an Icee.

  His eyes were halted from looking at what was in her other hand when he heard a man shout in a frantic voice, “Yo!”

  The distinct sound of a bullet cracking the air forced all his breath out of his lungs. At the same instant, his heart wrenched because he watched Janie’s lithe body jerk in the way only a bullet impact could cause.

  He heard someone letting out a growling yell, “Fuck!” It wasn’t until Beast was crouched over her prone body on the concrete that he realized that yell came from his mouth.

  Another gunshot cracked the air and he realized other customers at the gas pumps and inside the store could be heard screaming.

  His instincts, honed from years with the Riot MC brothers in Biloxi, kicked in and he didn’t look to Janie. Instead he looked toward where the shot would have been fired from and he saw a man running toward a small pick-up truck parked haphazardly outside the fill-up area. He was on the verge of bolting toward the truck, when a man in military fatigues crouched near Janie.

  “She’s hit! Does she have a pulse?” the stranger asked, and Beast realized those weren’t instincts forcing him to look to the shot. That was habit. Instinct would be taking care of his woman.

  Grabbing Janie’s wrist, he said, “I don’t know. Call 9-1-1.”

  Sirens wailed and Beast was amazed at how quickly two cruisers arrived in the parking lot, their blue lights swirling the area. Then he remembered a poker room was on the other side of the street, and police were a constant presence there.