by Jamie Begley
Riot
(Predators MC, #1)
by
Jamie Begley
Young Ink Press Publication
YoungInkPress.com
Copyright © 2014 by Jamie Begley
Edited by C&D Editing, and Hot Tree Editing
Cover Art by Young Ink Press
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually active characters portrayed in this ebook are eighteen years of age or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, multiple partners, extreme violence, drugs, and explicit language offends you.
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Prologue
“How many?” Creed asked.
“There are a hundred in each crate, twelve crates in total.”
Creed nodded toward one of his men, who moved forward to open a crate.
There was a touch of unease he was feeling, bringing his instincts to alert. Ice sat, watching the deal go down between the two arms dealers while carefully surveying his surroundings. Something didn’t feel right. The building at the train depot was dark, which wasn’t what was grating on his nerves. Several of his men were spread out, hidden, making sure the transaction went down safely for both of the dealers.
He turned his head, seeing Jackal changing positions. His enforcer felt it, too. Ice’s hand went behind his back to where he kept his gun hidden by his leather vest, which bore the name of the motorcycle club he ruled with an iron fist.
The Predators owned Queen City. There wasn’t a deal that went down they didn’t okay and get their share of the profits from. Which was why he was sitting here instead of being back at his clubhouse in bed with a woman and a bottle of tequila.
A flicker of movement had him stiffening as he leaned against a large crate. Ice’s sharp gaze caught it again at the same time as one of Creed’s men looked nervously over his shoulder.
“Fuck!” Ice said under his breath. With a wave of his hand, Ice gave his order. The meet was over. “Creed, we’ve got company.”
The men scattered like rats when the police swarmed the large building. Ice didn’t try to run; he stepped forward when Creed ran by him, bringing his gun down on the shoulder of the cop chasing him, allowing Creed to escape into the darkness. The cop fell to his knees.
“Drop your weapon! Now!”
Ice dropped his gun. He hadn’t managed to live the life he had by being stupid, but he wasn’t going to go down like a pussy, either.
Utilizing a tactic he had used during his football days, he lowered his shoulders and barreled into the three cops heading toward him, taking all of them down to the dirty concrete floor, trying to buy time for more of his men to get away. The more it took to keep him restrained, the less there were to chase after the ones fleeing.
Taser prongs latched onto his shoulder, freezing every muscle in his body as the cops regained control of the situation. Ice was only able to lay helpless as he was roughly cuffed and dragged to his feet between two cops to a waiting squad car.
Jackal, Max, Buzzard, and Fade were cuffed and placed in cars behind the one he was taken to. His eyes met Jackal’s briefly before a SWAT vest cut off his view. Ice’s lips tightened when he saw the fucker slam Jackal’s head against the roof of the car before throwing him inside.
The front driver door opened and a plain-clothed detective slid into the front seat. “I didn’t think I would live to see the day I would have you in the backseat of my car.”
The gloating face staring back at him had Ice wishing his hands were free.
“You didn’t do it on your own, Slater. You can’t piss unless someone’s holding your dick for you.”
Slater Richman had been trying to find charges to press against him since he had joined the force seven years ago.
The gloating expression was replaced with anger. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re there. You and the rest of the Predators are going to have some fun in prison. You’re going to miss all the women back at your clubhouse. I might need to stop by and see if they’re lonely after a couple of months.”
“You do that.” The women who belonged to the Predators would cut off his dick and shove it up his fat ass. “Tell them I sent you.”
Pure malice stared back at Ice. “I’m going to make sure you and your men don’t get out of these charges like you have the other times. The new DA isn’t on your payroll yet, so I’m going to enjoy sitting in that court room and watching you go down.”
Ice leaned back against the seat, refusing to talk to the blustering fuck-wad any further.
Unable to get a response, the cop put the car in drive and pulled out with the other squad cars following.
It had been a long time since he had been locked up. He had pulled an eighteen-month stint in his early twenties, which had been fifteen years ago. He had been lucky then, being incarcerated just outside Queen City. His brothers and bitches had visited regularly. This time, he knew he would receive a longer stretch and be sent to a different prison.
Ice watched the city pass outside the car window, knowing it would be a long time before he saw it again.
Chapter 1
“I’m not going to do it, so you might as well fire me now.” Grace put her paperwork in her briefcase before slamming the lid closed.
“Will you calm down and listen to me for five minutes?”
“No, Ross, I won’t! Because there is nothing you could possibly say to change my mind.” Grace picked up her briefcase, attempting to step around her department head, but he forestalled her by taking her by her arms and pushing her down into a chair.
“There are only the three of us in the computer department. I can’t do it, because my schedule is full. I’m already overloaded by one class, and we both know CeCe can’t. It would be like putting a kid in a candy store. She would ruin the college’s reputation. She’s lucky to still even have her job after last semester.”
Grace forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. “You cannot seriously expect me to teach classes at that prison. The Grange is maximum-security. I won’t do it. I’ll teach your courses, and you take the classes at the prison.”
“I thought of that, but you’re not qualified to teach the classes we could switch out yet.”
“Damn it. Then let CeCe teach them.”
Ross gave her a frustrated look. “After her affair with that student last semester, she’s fortunate Miller couldn’t replace her in time.”
Grace clutched her briefcase tighter against her stomach.
“There is no one else, Grace,” Ross’s voice softened. “The guards will be in the classroom with you the whole time. The college can’t afford to lose the revenue from the prison. How could we anticipate Mattie falling and breaking her hip? She’s taught the classes there the last five years. It’s a good program, helping a lot of men turn their lives around.”
“I don’t care. If they’re in prison, that’s where they deserve to be. They can stay there as far as I’m concerned,” Grace snapped.
“You don’t believe that.”
“Yes, I do,” she insisted.
“You’re the most kindhearted woman I know. How many dogs ha
ve you fostered?”
“That’s beside the point.”
“You volunteer for every cause.”
“You’re not going to change my mind, Ross.” Grace turned her head away, unable to stare at him any longer. He wasn’t only her boss; they had become friends during the five years she had worked at the small college. During her first year, he had attempted to date her, but when he had seen she wasn’t going to change her mind, they had become good friends. Now, he was engaged to another colleague who taught in the English department. “Hire someone else.”
“There’s not enough money in the budget. We had trouble barely keeping both you and CeCe. If you can’t do it, one of you will have to go, and I’ll have to hire someone willing to teach the class at the prison until Mattie can return.”
She had been here the shortest amount of time. CeCe had been here six years. Before last semester, CeCe had been the perfect instructor. Grace didn’t want her fired, either.
Grace swallowed hard. “I can’t do it, Ross. I just can’t.”
Ross stared down at her sympathetically. “It’s just for one semester.”
She knew when she was beaten. Nodding, she stood up. Ross backed up, giving her room. “I guess I don’t have a choice then, do I?”
“I’m sorry, but no, you don’t.”
“Email me what I need to know.” She left her office without another word, ignoring her name being called. She rushed down the hallway, her flat shoes tapping in the silence of the empty hallways.
Classes wouldn’t begin until next week, giving her enough time to prepare herself, if that was even possible.
She threw her briefcase into the backseat before climbing into her car. The drive through the town to her house didn’t take long. Stephenville only had a few businesses, the college, and the prison as the main employers in the county. If she was fired from the college, she would have to leave town to find another job. However, Grace didn’t want to leave. She loved Stephenville. She had chosen it specifically when she had graduated college. It was considered one of the safest cities in the United States.
Grace pulled into the driveway of her home, turned off her motor, and then sat quietly, staring at her pretty house which she had lovingly poured her time into. It had flowers and shrubs planted around the front, giving it a cozy cottage appearance.
Getting out of her car, she grabbed her briefcase before locking her car door. As she walked up the front path, she reminded herself to mow the lawn this weekend. What seemed like a chore to others, she enjoyed. The time she spent on her yard would relax her.
She put her key into the door then hastily stepped inside, quickly keying in her four-digit code to deactivate her security system. Shutting and locking her door, she reengaged the system before turning toward her living room. She stood silently with a smile quirking her lips as she listened to the patter of feet on the tiles grow closer.
A dark-brown dog turned the corner of the kitchen, coming at her as fast as his little legs could carry him. Unfortunately, when he tried to stop in front of her, his feet kept going, slamming himself into the wall.
Grace reached down, picking up the small, wiggling dog.
“You never learn. You need to slow down.”
The eager dog licked her face over and over until she held him away from her, staring at him sternly. The dachshund always took several minutes to calm down when she arrived home.
Another larger dog turned the corner of the kitchen, coming into the room more slowly. The giant schnauzer lazily walked forward, rubbing against her side. Grace rubbed his furry head.
“You two hungry?” She went into the kitchen with both dogs following her closely. Setting her briefcase down on the counter, she went to the pantry and grabbed their bag of food. After feeding them, she made herself a can of soup before sitting down at the table, watching as her animals ate. Not very hungry, she managed to force down three bites before she stopped.
Her schnauzer came to her, laying her head on the table.
“What am I going to do, Daisy?” The dog just raised her furry eyebrows at her, not answering.
Her cell phone ringing had her pulling her phone from her pocket.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Why haven’t you called?”
“I just talked to you two days ago.”
“You know I like for you to call every day.”
Grace grimaced at her mother’s over-protectiveness.
“I’m fine. What are you doing?”
“Making your dad some cookies.”
“He’s going to get fat.”
“Too late; he’s already gained ten pounds,” her mother replied smugly. She had been trying to fatten up her father for years. Her mother loved to cook and make her husband special treats; a fat husband meant a happy one. Her father, a health fanatic, just worked out longer to keep his weight under control.
“How’s he adjusting to retirement?”
“You would know if you bothered to come home for a visit.” Her mother’s less-than-subtle set-down had Grace biting her lip.
“I told you I had to teach this summer. It was hard to get away.”
“We miss you, honey.”
Grace swallowed hard at the tears she heard in her mother’s voice. “I miss you, too, but I’ll be seeing you at Thanksgiving.”
“That’s a few months away. We want to see you before then,” she complained before giving in. “All right, but you better make your sweet potato casserole.”
“I will,” Grace promised.
“Will you at least promise that, if you get any free time, you’ll come up for the weekend?”
“I’ll try,” Grace said without making any firm promise.
Her mother gave a deep sigh before going on to tell her about her brother Dax’s new job. It took half an hour before Grace could hang up.
She stood up from the table, doing the few dishes she had before taking the dogs outside to her fenced-in backyard, carefully disarming then re-arming her security system when she came back inside.
She took a shower before slipping on her nightgown. She then turned down the covers on her bed and made herself comfortable before turning on her computer to go through her emails. Opening the one sent from Ross, she looked at the course syllabus Mattie had made before she had fallen. Reading over it, Grace decided to keep it, seeing no need to change the schedule she had laid out.
She scrolled down the pages of information, coming to her class list, reading over the list of names of the men. It gave their names, educational history, a brief background description, and also their nicknames with the offense they had committed. Grace’s eyes widened as she read through the class roster.
Wyatt Brown, aka Ice.
West Cohen, aka Jackal.
Silas Thomas, aka Buzzard.
Fred Everett, aka Max.
Jarrod Craft, aka Fade.
Grace snapped her computer closed. She was going to get fired. There was no way she was going to be able to walk into a closed room and teach those men for an hour and a half three days a week. She didn’t want to teach them how to get a job on the outside; they deserved to stay behind bars. She hadn’t read their background details, not wanting to know why they were incarcerated because their nicknames alone scared the crap out of her. She was too afraid that, if she knew the actual reason they had been convicted, she would never be able to work up the courage to enter the classroom.
Grace laid her computer on her bedside table then turned off her light, feeling her feet go numb from Daisy lying on them at the bottom of the bed. She moved them, prompting Daisy to get up and lay sprawled out next to her. Bear took Daisy’s place on her feet.
The dogs she had rescued from the animal shelter wanted to remain within touching distance of her. Daisy would sleep throughout the night while Bear would stay awake and guard them while they slept.
Grace let her dogs soothe her to sleep, refusing to think about Monday. If she was lucky, she would be able to convince Ross t
o let CeCe do it. It was a longshot, but she was going to try. Even CeCe had standards. What woman in her right mind would become involved with a convicted felon?
* * *
Ice lay back on his mattress, staring up at the ceiling.
“Did you sign up for the class?” Jackal’s voice from the doorway drew his attention.
“Yeah, you?”
“Yeah, so did Max and Buzz.”
Ice nodded, sitting up on the side of the bed. “Find out who’s teaching the course.”
“Already did. Seems like she’s taught here for a while. Older woman, the men here seem to like her. She’s helped several prisoners get jobs once they were released.”
“That could work to our advantage. Get me some personal info on her. If we decide to use her, I don’t want to be scrambling the last minute for shit I should already know. I don’t want any surprises, Jackal.”
“Will do, gotta go. Rita’s here to visit me.”
Ice laughed. “What did she tell them?”
“She’s my sister.”
“Again? How many sisters do they think you have now?”
“I come from a large family,” Jackal mocked. “I’ll eat a slice of pizza for you.”
“Fuck-wad.” The visitors could purchase food for the prisoners while they visited. Jackal managed to eat the whole time he was there.
Ice watched his sergeant-at-arms leave, going to the common door to wait for one of the guards to escort him to the visitors’ room. He had sent a message that he didn’t want anyone to visit him. As the president of the Predators, it would put a target on her head. At the clubhouse, he had always been careful to make sure he had never singled out any one woman. He himself had used women as weapons against other clubs, so he knew not to have that shit turned around on himself.
He stood, stretching. It was beginning to wear on his nerves being unable to ride his bike. The last four months already seemed like a fucking lifetime of being cooped up in the small cell. The court seemed to think the next four years would make him a changed man, and the time stretched endlessly before him.