Riot: A Hell's Heathens MC Christmas Story (Older Man, Younger Woman MC Romance)

by Raven Dark

  When I was sexting it up with Riot, Devil must have messaged me, opening up a message stream between him and me. I must have sent the pic to Devil without realizing I wasn’t still on the one between Riot and I. I must not have been paying attention to the name on the screen.

  This whole thing would be hilarious if it wasn’t so goddamned embarrassing.

  He nods to the phone, his angry voice pulling me out of my thoughts. “It’s bad enough that I find a photo of my fucking sister’s naked fucking ass in my inbox—”

  “Devil, I’m sorry. I can only imagine how—”

  He puts up his finger. “But,” he cuts in, livid, “a pic of your naked goddamned ass, sent to a guy… A much older, and very new member of my fucking club…whom she has known for two fucking days!”

  The last comes out in a roar.

  My shoulders sag. For once, I understand too much about his anger to argue. My brother has long seen himself as the man of the house, a father figure who’s had to protect and take care of me. Seeing that pic would have shaken him on so many levels.

  “Devil, look, I know that pic must have really freaked you out. I was going to tell you that we were… Honestly, I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s lucky that Riot’s off taking care of his own shit right now, because if he was here now, I’d knock his teeth out.”

  Real concern for Riot sends a jolt up my spine. I might be ticked off at him, but I don’t want him hurt, and with the way Devil’s eyes are blazing right now, I wouldn’t put it past him to lay Riot out the moment he saw him. In my brother’s eyes, no one has been good enough for me, much less a man in his club.

  I lick my lips. “Dev, look calm down. There’s no need to—”

  “So, tell me how this happened, Red,” he growls, going around to his side of the desk again and leaning on it. “I sent Riot out to pick you up at the police station, and, what? Instead of coming home, you thought it would be a good idea to run off and fuck him?”

  “Okay, whoa.” I hold up my hands. “Stop right there. Who I sleep with is none of your business, Dev. Being freaked about the pic, I get, and I’m sorry, I really am, but that’s as far as it goes.”

  “It most certainly is my business, Red,” he snaps.

  “Oh! And how do you figure that?”

  “It is when you’re spreading your legs for a member of my fucking club, for a man you hardly know, and when he’s twice your goddamned age!”

  I grit my teeth. “Okay, one, Riot’s age shouldn’t matter. Dad was thirty nine when Mom married him, and she was the same age as me.”

  “That’s not the same thing. That was a different time.”

  “No, see, it’s not the same thing because nothing is ever the same when it’s me, is it? We both know you have a totally different set of rules for me than anyone else, don’t you?”

  “What?” He looks genuinely lost.

  I sigh. Before I know it, I’m blurting out things that I feel as if I’ve been holding onto for years. “This isn’t about Riot, and you know it. It’s about you, seeing me as the irresponsible child who can’t take care of herself, and can’t survive without you. And it’s about your not giving two shits about me unless it’s as someone you can control!”

  Devil recoils as if I’ve slapped him. “Red, where the fuck are you getting that from? I don’t care about you? I’ve done nothing but take care of you and protect you. I’m always there for you, putting aside club business to clean up your shit. You are my life, and you know it.”

  “Am I?” I snarl. “Is that why you sent Riot to pick me up at the police station? Is that why you sent a fucking driver to pick me up at the airport when you hadn’t seen me in two and a half years?”

  “Red, that’s not—”

  But I’m not done.

  “Is that why you always send someone else to take care of me when things come up? Why it’s never, ever you, why it’s always Badger, or Barbie, or Havoc?”

  “Red—”

  “And, is that why you sent me off to California?” I add slowly. “Is that why you sent me away to another state when I became too much of a problem for you? Is that how you care so much?”

  “Damn it, Red!” He slams his fist on the table and I jump. “That’s not how it is at all. When I sent other people for you, I was busy with club shit. You know how it is with—”

  “Yeah,” I hiss. “I know how it is. The MC is always first. You don’t care about me at all. You never have, and the only reason you’re pissed about Riot and me is because you know you aren’t in control of me, and it scares the shit out of you.”

  “That’s not true. Stop twisting things to suit you, Red.”

  But I can see it in his gaze, my words have shaken him.

  “I sent you to California to get you out of this town, away from Clutch, and those idiots you were mixed up with—”

  “No.” I say very calmly. “You sent me to California to get me out of your hair. You sent me out there so some stupid boarding school could deal with your problem sister, so you didn’t have to.”

  He looks so shocked, I’m not sure what to make of it, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve laid down the law, he’s heard what I’ve said, and that’s all there is to it.

  I drop my shoulders. “And you needn’t worry about me being with Riot. There is no Riot and me. It’s over.”

  Devil’s eyes narrow. “Red, did he—”

  I put up my palms. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.”

  It’s almost humorous, the way he relaxes.

  “At the end of the month, I’m going back to Cali, and then I’ll be out of your hair for the rest of your life. You’ve never let anyone get close, Devil and that’s fine. I won’t try. You can wrap yourself up in your club, brother, but be careful, because one day, you’re going to turn around, and it’ll be all you have left.”

  “Red, for fuck sake, get—”

  “Bye, Dev.”

  And with that, for the second time since I’ve come back, I turn and walk out on him.

  8

  Cold, Cold Shoulder

  Three days later, Monday afternoon rolls around, and Riot still hasn’t returned.

  The day I’d argued with Devil, when my brother had said Riot was taking care of some “his shit”, I’d assumed he’d merely told Devil that as a way to explain his absence without having to explain about us, but now I wonder if it was actually the truth. He wouldn’t have been stranded at that motel for three days, even with all the snow.

  I put another tray of cupcakes into the oven for baking and glance out the clubhouse kitchen window. The storm has since abated, leaving everything a blanket of white, but the roads have been plowed, creating snow banks several feet high.

  The dirt road that leads away from the clubhouse is clearly visible, snaking toward Whiskey two hours to the left and Holden to the right. I catch myself watching for any sign of a biker with California blond hair and shake myself.

  I know I shouldn’t be worried about him. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself by the looks of him, and there’s no reason to believe his business is dangerous.

  Besides, he’s not mine to worry about. So why am I watching the road like a fretting ol’ lady waiting for her man to return from a shootout with the Grim Reapers?

  “Red? Earth to Red.” Barbie peers at me.

  “Huh?” I blink at her stupidly.

  “You wanna do these, or you want Anne to do them?”

  I look down. Barbie’s holding out a freshly baked batch of cupcakes that have been left on the counter to cool for decorating. “Oh.” I take the rack from her. “I’ll do them.” I take them over to another counter and start preparing fresh frosting.

  Barbie, Anne and Sandra have been spending the afternoon helping me bake and decorate Christmas goods for the toy drive. Most of these batches will be carted off to a homeless shelter in Whiskey. The men are out gathering donations from the stores, which mak
es it easier, since they aren’t underfoot. The women have been talking and laughing most of the time, but I haven’t heard a word they’ve said.

  “Someone’s preoccupied,” Sandra says, looking up from her mixing bowl with a grin.

  “Yeah, and I get the feeling the only cure is a hot blond hunk with blue eyes.” Anne gives a dramatic, dreamy roll of her dark eyes as she slaps a lid on a box full of cookies.

  Barbie and Sandra laugh, casting a look at me.

  “They’re hazel, actually,” I correct without thinking, filling a decorating bag.

  As soon as I say it and I hear the girls chortle, my face heats.

  For the past three days, I’ve been trying to convince these ladies that I’m not hung up on Riot. I’m failing miserably.

  “Yep, someone’s hooked,” Sandra says, continuing to stir her batter.

  “Just because I know the color of his eyes doesn’t mean I’m hooked girls.”

  “Uh huh.” Heavily pregnant, Anne waddles over with the box and sets it on top of a pile of others, all lined with freshly decorated cookies and cupcakes. “If you’re not totally hooked on that man, then how come I bet you can tell us every tattoo he has and where he has it?”

  I roll my eyes, fighting off a smile.

  I happen to know Riot has a beautiful series of black lines running down the outside of his right leg, designed to look like flames. I saw them while we were showering together.

  “Face it, girl,” Barbie says, giving me no mercy. “You’ve got it bad.”

  Saving me from having to respond, Vicious and Gar come over to collect the goodies.

  “Here, honey, take these,” Sandra says, handing Gar the stack before Anne can do it.

  “Perfect.” Gar leans over and tips her chin up. “But I want some sugar before I go out to the car with them.” He snatches a kiss.

  Anne goes to the cupboard to get another box down for filling, but Vicious comes around the counter and stops her.

  “Don’t even think about it, woman, let me get that.” He grabs the box without having to reach and waves her away.

  “Oh, sure, because that thing is so heavy that little me couldn’t possibly lift it.” Anne’s smile is teasing.

  “Shut your mouth and sit down. Let the other girls take care of this stuff. You shouldn’t be up and about in your condition.”

  “We’ve been trying to tell her that all morning,” Barbie says, taking the box from him.

  “Chillax, ladies. You too, Vicious.” Anne starts getting herself a glass of water from the fridge, knuckling her back. “I’m pregnant, not dying.”

  “Anne, stop,” I tell her, hurrying over and grabbing her glass. “Sit. I’ll get it.”

  Over the past few days since meeting Anne and Sandra, I’ve seen them with their men, and I can’t help feeling a little jealous. Vicious and Gar obviously adore them, and I love the way Vicious is so protective of Anne.

  According to the guys, Anne and Vicious had been dating for months before I’d left for California. How is it that Vicious, one of my closest friends in the club, had been involved with a woman and I hadn’t even known? This only illustrates how screwed up my life had been in that last year before I’d left. Avoiding Devil and the club, getting in deeper with Clutch and his friends, I’d been so wrapped up in my own shit that I’d shut everyone who was important to me out of my life. The realization makes my heart ache.

  I listen to Anne and Sandra banter with Barbie, and it makes me smile. These two women might have been totally unfamiliar with MC life when they met their men, but they fit in with the rest of the women perfectly.

  Ordinarily, I used to like to give new girls a hard time, especially when they’re new to the MC world. Or at least I used to before I’d left for Cali. But Anne and Sandra are both so damned adorable, I can’t bring myself to do it.

  Both of them have worked tirelessly to get the food for the drive ready, regardless of the objections Vicious has to Anne’s working so hard. Of course, Anne being eight months pregnant would have earned her a break anyway.

  Anne sighs, but lowers herself awkwardly onto a chair at a nearby table with a groan. I pour her a drink and bring it over.

  “Vicious, maybe we should tie her to the chair if she won’t stay there,” I tease.

  “You have my blessing,” he rumbles. Anne glares at him and he bends down, laying a kiss on her lips before he waves at us and heads for the door with Gar.

  “Badger!” Barbie squeals behind me.

  I turn to see Badger nicking a few of the Christmas cookies from the newest batch that hasn’t even fully cooled.

  “Wow, they’re still hot,” he says, dancing a bite of cookie around in his mouth.

  “Serves you right,” I say.

  “Get out! Shoo!” Barbie pushes him out of the kitchen. “Calamity, will you remove him, please?”

  “Sure thing. Come on, Badge.” The club’s huge, salt-and-pepper-haired Cleaner pulls him away. “Give me one of those.” He grabs one of the cookies from Badger and eats it in a single bite.

  I flick a spoonful of frosting at Cal. He dodges it and winks at me, holding Badger in a headlock.

  “Did you make those?” Cal asks me.

  “I did. You like?”

  When I go back to California, my friend from culinary school, Gabby, is going to partner up with me to open up a cupcake shop. The thought used to make me feel excited, but now it makes me feel a little sad.

  “It’s fantastic,” Cal says, licking frosting off his fingers. “You’re gonna make some lucky dude a happy guy one day, Red.”

  An unwelcome image of Riot with that lazy smile floats up in my mind but I shove it aside. Then I pause in swirling frosting onto a cupcake and scrunch my brows, watching Cal roughhouse with Badger. Is it my imagination, or did I hear loneliness in his deep voice?

  I’d always guessed it would be harder for Cal than some of the others to get involved in a relationship. With his handsome, older guy looks, military background, and smooth demeanor, women usually swarm around Cal, but since it’s his job to take care of evidence for the club, and since said evidence sometimes involves some pretty gruesome cleanup gigs, Cal’s never let a woman get close.

  “Cal, if you’re coming, get a move on,” Gar says, calling his older brother from the door. “There’s another storm coming, so we’d better get these to the shelter now.”

  The boys make their way toward the clubhouse’s front hall, insulting each other and roughhousing the whole way.

  See, this is one of the things that’s going to make it hard to leave the MC. There’s a closeness and a camaraderie between the men that isn’t found anywhere else. Club brothers are there for each other in ways that go far beyond real brothers. It’s the same with the women. The ladies share a bond that almost defies explanation. I’m going to miss this life, and the Heathens, like hell.

  “Hi, guys. Wait a minute and I’ll help you get that stuff over to the shelter.”

  Riot’s baritone voice drifts from down the front hall. I squeeze the decorating bag too hard and a big glob of frosting comes out, spilling all over the cupcake.

  Three days of not hearing that voice, and it immediately makes my heart sing. It’s like a slice of heaven.

  Fuck, the girls are right, I’ve got it bad.

  “We’ll wait, but hurry your ass up, new kid,” Badger says. “We need to get back here before the storm dumps another three feet of snow on us.”

  “Yeah, yeah, hold your fucking wads.” Riot ambles in.

  I put my head down, focusing on my task and try not to notice him, but it’s like the air in the room has changed, becoming superheated with his presence. My eyes lift and follow him and his sexy walk across the clubhouse common room, toward the stairs.

  He looks as perfect as ever in those tight leather pants, and his cut that fits him like a glove. The women are gabbing behind me, but they’re voices are a muted buzzing in my ears. Part of me hopes he doesn’t notice me in here, and anothe
r part dreads that he won’t.

  “Hold it, Riot,” Havoc calls from the couches, stopping him before he reaches the stairs. “Devil’s been waiting to talk to you all morning. He’s in his office.” The VP nods toward my brother’s office.

  Nervousness snakes up my spine for Riot. Damn it, I shouldn’t be feeling bad for him. The man implied he was going to force me to change my plans and stay in Ohio so he could keep me with him.

  I notice that as Riot heads for the office, the rest of the guys have conveniently come back into the room and plopped themselves on the couches with Havoc. Putting themselves close enough to hear what’s about to go down in the office.

  God, they really are worse than schoolboys. Badger starts humming a funeral march, and Gar says something to Cal about his probably having to bury someone tonight in the backyard.

  Riot just grins and shakes his head.

  Totally unfazed by their fucking with him.

  Passing the kitchen, his eyes catch mine and he winks. I snatch a look back at the women, but none of them seem to have noticed. His back is to the boys. I hate the relief I feel that no one saw that wink.

  I sigh, setting the decorating bag down. It’s only fair that I warn him about the pic.

  “Riot, wait.” I stalk across the room to him and wave for him to stop. “I need to tell you something.”

  He lifts a brow at me and smirks. Fuck. Riot isn’t stupid, he knows he’s in deep shit. How is he not nervous? No one ever faces my brother without being a little on his guard. He must know from the way the guys are behaving that Devil is aware of what happened between us.

  I open my mouth to speak, then notice the guys. All of them are turned around on the couches, watching us like a pack of coyotes at a dinner party. Waiting for the sparks to fly

  Assholes.

  I scoff and wave him over to the stairwell that leads to the basement, especially since the ladies have all gone quiet in the kitchen. No one but Badger ever goes down here, since it’s the space he uses for all his surveillance work for the club, and he’s ridiculously obsessive about no one touching his equipment. I’m not about to discuss that fucking nudy pic anywhere near the guys.