Refuge (Riot MC Book 1)

by Emily Minton

  The sound of the door banging against the wall has me jumping from my chair. I turn just in time to see Kendra stomp into the room. The first thing I notice is a look of pure hatred in her cold blue eyes, but that only holds my attention for a second. After that, I am completely focused on the gun in her hand.

  “Is that a gun?” Kat screeches, while Erin shouts, “What the fuck?”

  I ignore them both, doing my best to stay calm, even if my heart is beating a million miles an hour. “What are you doing here? You know Van doesn’t want you here.”

  She doesn’t answer, just raises her gun and pulls the trigger. I scream, throwing myself to the hardwood floor. The computer's screen shatters, falling off the desk with a bullet buried within it. For a long minute, the only sound in the room is Denver’s ferocious barking.

  Kendra looks down at me, disgust filling her face. “Don’t be such a pussy. I wasn’t shooting at you. I just didn’t want anyone to hear our conversation.”

  “What do you want to talk about?” I ask, my eyes still locked on the gun.

  “Van, Tito, my fucking granddaughter. I want to talk about them all!” she shouts, waving her hands, not caring at all that she has a loaded pistol in her hand.

  She starts pacing, talking so fast I cannot understand a damn thing she is saying. She is obviously high as a fucking kite. Not the mellow high you get from weed or even the energetic high you get from coke. I’ve never tried meth, never wanted that poison anywhere near me, but I have been around my fair share of meth heads. She looks like every single one I ever met.

  Her hair is a matted mess, falling in stringy tendrils over her shoulders. The deep brown she usually wears is now washed out, with grey roots showing. Her eyes are red, glassy, and unnaturally dilated. She has oozing sores on her face, which she is scratching even while she waves the pistol around the room.

  Denver’s barking draws her attention, and she swings her gun to him. “Shut that thing up, or my next shot will be pointed right at him.”

  I push myself off the floor and slowly walk to his crate, still watching her every move. When I get near him, I do my best to soothe him with soft words, but he keeps barking. It takes a minute or two, but he finally quiets down to a menacing growl.

  I finally move my eyes from her, scanning the room for a weapon. There’s nothing, not one fucking thing I can use to defend myself. I look back at her, trying to decide if I can take her. Without the gun in her hand, I could have her on her ass in a second. With the gun, I have no choice but to sit back and see what happens. I’m not going to let her shoot me, but I’ll take my time and see if I can keep her talking long enough for someone to come get her crazy ass the fuck out of here.

  “Tito was happy with me. He loved me. Everything was good until you came along,” she says in a growl of her own. “When you came around, nobody else mattered. Nothing mattered but his precious baby girl.”

  I’m not sure what she is talking about. Does she mean now or years ago? I can’t even guess, and I don’t really care. The only thing I care about is figuring out how the hell I’m going to get out of this mess, so silence is my only response.

  Kendra stops her pacing and shakes her head. “I’m standing here with a damn gun in my hand, and you’re not even scared of me. You never were, were you?”

  She couldn't be more wrong. I’m scared out of my fucking mind, so scared I can barely keep myself standing. However, I know not to let her see my fear. I learned a long time ago, Kendra gets off on my fear. Even when I was a little girl, she seemed to enjoy scaring the shit out of me.

  “Answer me,” she screams, stomping her foot like a spoiled child.

  “I’m not scared of you because I know you would never hurt me,” I lie, hoping she believes the bullshit I am spewing. “You’re a good person, Kendra.”

  She blinks as if no one has ever said anything like that to her before. They probably haven’t. She’s not a good person, doesn’t have a good bone in her body. She was born bad and will die bad. That will happen the minute Van and my dad find out about this. Hopefully, that will be any time now.

  Surely, Erin and Kat called Van the moment she shot at the screen. Maybe, Dad and Van haven’t got too far out of town yet. If not, they should be pulling into the driveway any minute. At least, that is what I am telling myself. If not, I am completely and utterly fucked.

  “Tito loved me,” she says, breaking the momentary silence. “He made me his old lady, so he had to love me.”

  That’s not true. I don’t know the whole story, but I do know that he only claimed her as a favor to Crew. He kept her around because of Van. I don’t know why he didn’t get rid of her the minute he turned eighteen, but I know for sure he never felt one ounce of love for her.

  “He still loves you,” I state with a slow nod, willing to say whatever I need to keep her from pulling the trigger.

  “Van loves me, too. No matter what he says, he loves me. I’m his momma; he has to love me. He would do anything for me.” Kendra gives a frantic nod of her own, her movements jerky. “Only Crew didn’t love me, but he was supposed to. I did everything for him, gave him a son, but he still didn’t love me.”

  “I’m sure Crew lov—” I start, but she cuts me off with a shake of her head.

  “No, he didn’t and now he never will!” she screams, lifting her free hand to her head and pulling her hair. “Brass promised not to tell anyone, but he’s going to. He’s going to tell Crew everything, and he’ll hate me forever.”

  My stomach drops, knowing there is only one thing she can be talking about. I have to be wrong, have to be. There is no way the man I consider my friend would sleep with Kendra. Not only is she a crazy bitch, but she is his best friend’s mom and was his Pres’s old lady. Surely, Brass wouldn’t betray them in such a way.

  “Crew won’t understand, won’t understand Brass wasn’t a kid anymore,” she says, causing bile to rise up my throat.

  I immediately start to pray, asking God to make Brass an asshole that would betray Van and Dad. I’d rather that be true than what I think Kendra is about to say. I start praying even harder when I see Van sliding along the wall behind her. I would give anything to keep him from hearing the next words out of her mouth.

  He lifts his finger to his mouth, letting me know to keep my mouth shut. I do as he orders, lowering my eyes. I don’t want her to know he’s there. I doubt she would actually shoot him, but she is tweaking so bad right now that she might not even realize what she is doing.

  “He was thirteen. That’s not a kid,” she says in a fucked-up attempt to excuse herself. “He may have been crying, but I know he wanted me to do it. He wanted it every time, no matter what he said.”

  My eyes jerk up at her words, going to Van once again. I see a look of pure devastation cross his face and can’t stop my breakfast from spewing out. I grab hold of Denver’s kennel and drop to my knees as my body heaves painfully. My mind fills with the image of Brass as a young boy. I can see it clearly, can see this bitch ripping his world to shreds.

  “You’re fucking sick!” Van shouts before the sound of a fist hitting flesh fills the room.

  A split second later, the pistol flies across the room, and Kendra drops to the floor. I turn my head just enough to see blood trickling from her lips. I watch as she attempts to push herself up, but Van lays his hand on her shoulder and holds her in place. My eyes are glued to her face when he places his other hand on the back of her head and gives it a brutal twist. The snap of her neck breaking hits my ears just before the room goes completely silent.

  I don’t even realize a scream has left my mouth until Van pulls me off the floor. He drags me right past her, up the stairs to our room. My entire body is in shock as he leads me to the bathroom. Once in there, he pulls my shirt over my head and tosses it on the floor then turns on the faucet.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” he says, grabbing a washcloth from the shelf.

  After getting it wet,
he washes off my face. He does this gently, running the cool cloth over every inch of skin. When he is done, it lands on the floor beside my shirt. Then, he grabs the mouthwash and fills the top.

  “Rinse out your mouth, Ronni,” he orders, holding it to my lips.

  I do as he orders, my body trembling the entire time. When I am finished, he drags me into the bedroom, grabs one of his tees, and pulls it over my head. My body is running on auto-pilot as I slide my arms through the holes.

  “She’s gone now. She can’t ever hurt you again,” he states as he leads me to the bed and pushes me down. “I’ve gotta go take care if this shit.”

  I watch him walk away, trying to make sense of his words. It takes a few minutes for my mind to clear enough to understand. By ‘this shit,' he means his mother’s body. I can’t let him do that on his own, no matter how damn freaked out I feel.

  Taking a deep breath, I push myself off the bed and force my legs to carry myself down the steps. When I hit the bottom, I hear him talking on the phone, and my heart breaks for what he must be going through.

  “I killed the bitch, Tito,” he says, his voice breaking with each word. “I fucking killed my own mother.”

  My chest tightens, realizing that is something he is going to carry around with him the rest of his life. No matter what she did, no matter what she could have done, he is going to regret ending her life.

  “The shit she was saying… Fuck, brother. I can’t get that shit out of my mind,” he growls, his voice hard and cold. “If I could, I would kill her again.”

  Okay, maybe Van isn’t feeling any regret right now. It will come with time, and it is going to hit him hard as hell. He is going to be filled with anger, guilt, pain, and a million other fucked up emotions. I’m trying to think of how I can help him when he suddenly turns as if he could feel me behind him.

  “See you in five,” he says, sliding the phone into his pocket.

  He immediately comes to me and pulls me into his arms. I bury my head against his chest and hold him close, hoping he can feel how much I love him.

  “You need to go back upstairs, darlin’,” he tells me, leaning back just enough to look into my eyes. “I’ll come and get you as soon as we get rid of her.”

  Hearing him talk about his mother’s body like it is a piece of trash sends another wave of shock through my body, but I push it away. I have to be strong for him right now. When I have a few minutes alone, I can have a breakdown. I just shake my head as he wipes the tears from my cheeks that I did not even know were falling.

  Taking a deep breath, I pull away. “I’m okay.”

  The sound of Denver barking is echoing throughout the house. He doesn’t sound quite as ferocious now, but he still sounds on edge. He wants out, wants to make sure I’m okay, but that’s not going to happen. With the way things are going, he’d probably attack her body. Van may not mind that, but I definitely would.

  “Why don’t you take Denver out back for a few minutes?” he asks as if he can read my mind.

  “That may not be a good idea,” I reply, looking over his shoulder to where Kendra’s body is still sprawled across the floor.

  He looks back then nods, obviously getting my meaning. He pulls me into his arms again, holding me tight. He’s quiet for a few minutes, both of us lost in our thoughts. As bad as it sounds, all I can think is that there is a dead woman lying on our living room floor and I want someone to get her the fuck out of here.

  The silence continues for a few long minutes until I hear the sounds of bikes pulling into the driveway. I let out a relieved breath, knowing the cavalry has arrived. Now, I can go hide in the bedroom and cry my fucking eyes out.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Veronica

  My head is lying on Van’s chest while he holds me close. We have been in bed more than an hour, neither of us saying a word. In fact, he has barely said a word since he came home from getting rid of his mom’s body. I have no idea what he did with it, and I have no plans to ever ask him. I can go to my grave without ever knowing that information.

  “Are you all right?” I ask, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  The question is stupid. There is no damn way he is all right. Not only did he take someone’s life, but that someone was his mother. There is not one fucking thing all right about that, but what else am I supposed to say at a time like this?

  “I saw her standing there in front of you, holding a gun in her hand, and I couldn’t fucking believe it,” he says in a voice only a shade louder than a whisper. “Then, I heard the shit she was saying and just snapped.”

  I don’t want to think of everything she said. Just thinking about everything makes me want to be sick again. Van told Dad everything, even the shit about Brass, but he didn’t tell anyone else. Without words, he let me know not to ever mention anything she said. If Brass ever wants to tell anyone what she did, that’s up to him. It’s not any of our places to say shit. I just hope that I will be able to look at him without pity in my eyes.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say, running my fingers over the ink on his chest. “You did what you had to do to protect me.”

  Kendra never truly threatened me, unless you consider the gun in her hand. She never approached me, never threatened to shoot me, never even really pointed the gun at me. I’m not sure if she would have killed me. If anything, I think she may have killed herself. She was a broken woman. Van may have killed her, but he also put her out of her misery.

  “I don’t feel like I did anything wrong. Don’t feel much of anything really.” He goes quiet for a minute or two then asks, “Am I supposed to feel something? Aren’t I supposed to feel bad, sad, some fucking thing other than relieved she’s not gonna be in my life anymore.”

  I remember the numb feeling I felt after my mother died. I was weighted down with such guilt for not being sad that it damn near killed me. For months, I was sure something was wrong with me. I finally realized that my guilt was misplaced. We can’t control our emotions, no matter how much we want to.

  “I’m not the one to ask because I didn’t even cry when Mom died. I didn’t feel anything. I felt sad that she died so young, but nothing more,” I say, knowing he will understand. “I really tried to feel some sort of grief, but it just wasn’t there.”

  Van’s arms tighten around me as he says, “Well, aren’t we just a pair? Maybe, if our mothers weren’t so shitty, they’d deserve a little sympathy.”

  “True,” I mumble as I sling my leg over his. “They never cared about us when they were alive, so it’s fitting we don’t care now that they’re dead.”

  As I say the words, I realize just how true they are. My mom didn’t give a shit about me when she was here on this earth. I was nothing more than a weight around her neck, one she wanted to shed. Kendra was the same, using Van as her meal ticket with my father but never giving him even an ounce of love. Neither of them earned our sympathy.

  He runs his hand down my back, resting it just above my ass. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you.”

  I go up on my elbow, wanting to look into his beautiful blue eyes. “You didn’t lose me, Van. You’re never going to lose me.”

  He may not have talked much since getting home, but his eyes followed my every mood. He touched me, kissed me, held me close. It was like he was afraid I was going to disappear. I gave him that, needing it as much as he did.

  “Prove it,” he orders, moving his hand to my head and forcing my lips toward his. “Remind me that we’re both still breathing.”

  I know what he wants because I want it, too. I’m just not sure that is what either of us needs. A shrink would probably tell us to talk about our feelings, not to smother away the pain with sex. Then again, my man is a biker. He’s a different breed of man—a man that always knows what he wants and does what he has to do to get it.

  I brush my lips over his and whisper, “I can do that.”

  The words
are barely out of my mouth when he rolls me over and jerks my nighty over my head. My panties go right before he tugs off his boxers. He settles between my legs, bringing his lips back to mine. He kisses me softly, showing me a tenderness I have never experienced before. Our tongues slide against each other as his hands run down my body.

  His lips leave mine, traveling slowly down my body. He pulls one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking it deep. I gasp at the pleasure filling my body. His mouth moves to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. Each time his teeth scrape against the tight peaks, I let out another moan.

  He slowly moves further down my body, trailing kisses all the way to my pubic bone. He glides his fingertips over my pussy, paying close attention to my clit. Finally, he sinks a finger deep inside me. At the same time, his mouth latches onto my clit, and he gives it a gentle nip. The sensation has my hips coming off the bed and a whimper pouring from my lips.

  “I love tasting you, baby. You’re so sweet and tangy, fucking delicious,” he growls against my clit, sending a shiver up my spine.

  My hands go to his head and hold it in place. I want to say something, tell him how good this feels, but I can’t seem to make my mouth form the words. My mind is so consumed with the pleasure I am feeling, it’s all I can do to even breathe.

  He continues to glide his fingers in and out as he sucks on my clit. With each second that passes, I’m getting closer and closer to the edge. As much as I want to let go, let him take me to the pinnacle, I need him inside me. I want to come around his cock. I want him to feel what he does to me.

  I pull on his head, wanting his eyes on mine. “I want you inside me, Van. I need you inside of me tonight.”

  “Don’t worry, baby,” he says with a smile, still stroking his fingers inside me. “I’m gonna be inside you before this night is over.”