Inflamed: A Shadow Riders MC

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Inflamed: A Shadow Riders MC Page 48

by Kiki Leach


  "You ain't no goddamn saint yourself, motherfucker," said Wolf. "I saw how you used to treat that nineteen year old bitch that got shot up here last night, and heard about that shit when the rest of us motherfuckers weren't around."

  River turned his eyes straight ahead and sank his shoulders. The old man was right. Before Mia came along, treating women like they were only good for a handful of things was more or less what River once considered part of his overall 'charm'. It seemed to always keep them coming back, often and in droves no matter how badly he treated them, and so he kept it up even knowing just how much of a goddamn shitty thing it was to do. The worst he felt was for Courtney; not fully grasping how bad she truly had it every time he treated her like absolute shit or only used her for what the fuck she had to offer to him on nothing more than her back. It wasn't until Mia all but demanded respect from him that he understood just how much of an asshole he had truly been to the rest; and for the first goddamn time in his life realized that he never wanted to be that way when it came to another woman again, whether he ultimately gave a shit about her or not.

  Wolf pushed the bottle toward him and stared at the side of his face. River looked over at his old man, then down at the bottle. He wrapped his hand around to pick it up and poured himself another shot.

  "Jolene copped to you bein' my old man," he said. He threw the shot back as quickly as he could and slammed the glass back down on top of the bar hard enough to crack it.

  Wolf turned his head toward his son again and grinned. He threw his hand around River's neck, forcing him to straighten his back. It took every inch of restraint to stop himself from ripping his arm straight from his socket and beating him over the goddamn head with it.

  Wolf dropped his hand down to the center of his back, gave him a few quick pats, then reached for the bottle of whiskey again and poured until it was empty. River kept his eyes on that bottle, then reached out for it and placed it on the opposite side of himself where his old man wouldn't be able to reach for it again.

  "I never wanted any goddamn kids," said Wolf. "Not with any other bitch but Verna." He yanked up the bottle of tequila and poured himself yet another shot. "When she told me that she couldn't get pregnant, I fuckin' lost it on her. Not 'cause I was angry at her, but 'cause I was angry at myself. Pissed for fallin' in love with half a woman who couldn't help me to carry out my legacy for this club and every other fuckin' thing I ever wanted it to be." He threw the shot back and immediately poured himself another. River balled his fists and rubbed his thumbs back and forth across his index fingers to keep them steady and in place. He knew what he had come there for and he knew why; but he also knew that before he reacted to anything else the motherfucker said, he needed to hear him out first, gather any form of understanding that he could. "I was eighteen when we hooked up. Best lookin' set of tits and ass you ever did see on a bitch." He laughed, remembering. "Soon as I saw her, I thought, I'm gonna make that bitch my wife. I'm gonna wife her up real fuckin' good, and she'll be my goddamn queen of the motherfuckin' castle, goddamn queen of this club."

  "When the fuck she find out about Jolene?"

  Wolf chuckled. He reached into the pocket of his cut and ripped out a cigarette. He sat it between his lips and threw a quick flash over it, then took a long, long drag and handed it over to his son. Reluctantly, River wrapped his fingers around the cigarette and took a long drag for himself. He turned his eyes down to the bar and blew out the smoke while flicking the ashes near his shot glass.

  "She walked in on us here at the club," said Wolf. "I had her pinned up against the goddamn wall and when Verna kicked the door open, she saw me givin' it to your mother from the back--"

  "That's a whole lotta goddamn much that I didn't need to hear about, motherfucker," he interjected. "I had the goddamn picture on that shit inside my head before you even said the fuckin' words, thanks." River shifted in his chair. "You ever apologize to her for it? For showin' her just how much of a true to life goddamn asshole and motherfucker you really were?"

  "No." He snickered. "But she knew who and what the fuck she married in me. Wasn't some kinda goddamn secret. And she liked that shit about me, she liked me bein' all fucked up and twisted up inside. Shit meant she could fix me or have me fixed." He leaned back and sighed. "Ain't fixed shit."

  "That's fuckin' clear, asshole." River took another drag of his cigarette and rested his elbows on the edge of the bar. "She may have been willin' to take your shit back then, but you ever get the feelin' in spite of all that, that she feels like she made a mistake in doin' that shit now? That she regrets the fuck outta her life and the way she's been livin' it here with you, the same way my mother regrets every single goddamn thing about hers?" he asked.

  Wolf peeked at him from the corner of his eye and nodded. "Every goddamn day of her miserable, fuckin' life," he said. "Every goddamn day--"

  "She's miserable 'cause of you--"

  "No," he replied. "Miserable 'cause of herself and the fact that she chose to fuckin' stay."

  "You helped that shit along."

  He chuckled. "Maybe."

  "Ain't no maybe in that shit, motherfucker. More like a goddamn, motherfuckin' fact. You helped that shit along. Still are."

  "'Least I ain't killed nobody inside the goddamn club, young buck... 'least not as of fuckin' late--"

  "What the fuck are you talkin' about?"

  "Eightball," Wolf blurted. He snatched his cigarette back and took another drag until the lit tip burnt out. He squeezed the ashes from it, then flicked it across the bar and turned back to face his son. "You really off that motherfucker like you told Tiny you did?" asked Wolf.

  River shook his head. "Mia fucked him up before I could get to him first. Used his own goddamn gun on him like a motherfuckin' pro."

  Wolf arched his brows in so much goddamn shock, he thought they might get stuck high up on his goddamn forehead. "Mia?" he asked. River nodded. "Shit. That bitch just might be worth keepin' around for you after all."

  "Yeah." He stared down at the bar again and glowered. "After she came back home last night, I asked her to fuckin' marry me."

  "What'd she say?"

  "She said yeah." He swallowed hard and breathed in deep. "But I could tell that she was still thinkin' about that shit," he told him. "I could see it in her fuckin' eyes that she was thinkin' about it even as she said yes with a smile so fuckin' bright it damn near blinded me. And my cock bein' so goddamn deep inside her that..." He felt it twitch just thinking about it and reached for the tequila to pour himself another shot. "She's scared as shit. Scared I might not come home when I come here or when I'm dealin' with other clubs; scared that what happened last night could happen again and with her girl caught up in the mix this time. And I can't blame her for that shit. This kinda life we live wasn't meant for the women in our lives. Wasn't meant for Verna, or my mother or little girl. Ain't meant for her, but I fuckin' need her like I ain't never needed nothin' else in my life before. She's mine for the takin' and I'll be damned before I just give that shit up for the sake of this shit or any other goddamn thing else." He tossed back that second shot and made a face as the liquor burned down the back of his throat and settled inside his belly with the other.

  "She got every goddamn right to be scared," said Wolf. "You gotta keep bein' the reason that she ain't."

  He looked over at his old man and blinked once. "Are you shittin' me right now with the shit you just said to me, motherfucker?"

  Wolf swiftly arched a brow and made a face. "What?"

  "I think you heard what the fuck I just said, and know just why the fuck I'm here, and it ain't 'cause your woman suddenly thinks bein' okay with you ain't a fuckin' problem." He turned in his chair. "You got some kinda goddamn fuckin' nerve tryin' to tell me shit about my life, or my woman or how the fuck we choose to be with each other, when your wife ran the fuck outta here CRYIN' over your goddamn bullshit. You're real good at dolin' out advice to the rest of us motherfuckers and tryin' to dictate just ho
w in the fuck we need to live our lives while yours has been full of nothin' but SHIT! for fuckin' decades now."

  "I ain't dictated shit to you assholes."

  "Oh yeah, motherfucker, that's all the fuck you BEEN doin' since I was a goddamn kid, but the problem is, you continue not to fuckin' admit to that shit. You won't fuckin' own up to knowin' that the shit you've done over the last too many goddamn years is the reason why we're fuckin' here now; in this fucked up, damn near destitute position with ourselves and the goddamn club. You can end my fightin' career, knock up my mother, force me to beat a motherfucker to death that you paid off with what I'm guessin' was nothin' but club money, but you can't get your own goddamn home in check. And you're about thirty PLUS years too goddamn late for this 'daddy dolin' out advice to his son' bullshit as it is."

  "I think it's best if you stay in your fuckin' lane, son."

  "I been stayin' in my lane for far too goddamn long, old man, which is just another part of the fuckin' problem we've been havin' around here. I've kept my mouth shut for too goddamn long and even when I spoke the fuck up, took a back seat to your ass -- even when I KNEW shit was fucked up, but I'm done with that shit. It's clear as fuckin' day that you can't run shit around here just like I told you before, and that you never fuckin' could, and there's a reason for that."

  "You plan on tellin' me just what the fuck that reason is?"

  "No. I just plan to sit here and let you marinate on that shit and figure it the fuck out for yourself. But in the meantime..." In a flash, River reached out for the neck of the empty whisky bottle, flipped it on its head, then whirled his hand around and smashed the bottle directly into Wolf's face, sending him flying straight back to the goddamn floor where he nearly cracked his skull.

  "ARHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he hollered out, grabbing his face as blood gushed from his mouth, nose, forehead and eyes. He covered himself with his hands and pulled back shards of glass that had been stuck to and imbedded within his skin. "No way in FUCK your crazy ass got any of this shit from me!" he screamed between his hands.

  "I beg to fuckin' differ, asshole. I just beg to fuckin' differ." He ripped the gun he had taken from Verna from behind himself and pointed it directly at Wolf as he rolled back and forth against the floor.

  Once he stopped and looked up at his son, at the gun pointed toward the center of his fucking forehead, he frowned. "What the fuck are you doin'?"

  "I'm standin' here, motherfucker. Standin' here with this goddamn gun inside my hand and wonderin' just why in the fuck I should bother sparin' your life when you didn't give a single shit about sparin' mine or anyone else's."

  "I gave you a goddamn place to lay your head at night!" He spat out some blood, a few tiny shards of glass and a set of teeth from the back of his mouth as he rolled to his side. "I gave you this goddamn club!"

  "No, motherfucker." River dropped down to a squat, shoved him back over on his ass and looked him straight in the goddamn face. "You ain't gave me shit." He clinched his teeth. "I'm here 'cause you forced your hand with my mother, asshole. I'm here 'cause insteada you tryin' to do right by her, you chose to have some motherfucker beat the shit outta her to prove you were fuckin' man enough to take care of her as if she couldn't take care of her fuckin' self, which was bullshit to the highest fuckin' degree. I'm not here for any other goddamn reason outside of you bein' a selfish motherfucker, which is some shit that I can fuckin' relate to, as you've just seen." He rested his arms on his knees and glared. "Now tell me why I shouldn't abide by the fuckin' code of the club and just drop you right the fuck here and now."

  "Ain't no code gonna change the fact that I'm your old man," replied Wolf, his voice now weak and weary. He coughed up more blood and spat it out to the floor.

  "Shit ain't good enough for me, asshole. You bein' my old man don't change a goddamn thing 'cause you're still the same son of a bitch you always were. Only difference now is you've gotten even crazier than I ever fuckin' thought you could get." He hopped up to his feet and pointed the gun at him again. "Take off the cut," he told him.

  Wolf rolled his eyes up to his son and snarled. "No."

  River looked to the ceiling for a few seconds, breathed in deep, then turned his eyes back down to Wolf. "Take off the goddamn cut, old man," he said again. "I don't like askin' motherfucker's shit more than twice, which you know all too fuckin' well by now; and after thirty-eight fuckin' years of my life, I've already hit my goddamn limit with you as it is." He cocked the hammer of the gun.

  Reluctantly, Wolf rolled over on his knees and while keeping his eyes up on River, slowly started to remove his cut, unsure of just what the hell his son was actually capable of doing to him if he didn't. Or maybe he knew too fucking much, which is exactly why he did.

  He held it out to the side with one hand and after clutching it tight to get that last feel of leather between his fingers, he dropped it to the floor. River moved in and slammed the muzzle against the center of his forehead. And while staring at him, watching as the fear built up on his face, River suddenly felt a sense of pride in having beaten that old man at his own goddamn game, the same one he felt he had been playing with his life since he was a child.

  He slid his index finger across the trigger and with a single jerk, pulled it back. Wolf shut his eyes and flinched, only to realize after a few seconds that he hadn't actually been shot between the eyes or through his skull; that his brains had in fact not been splattered across the walls of the club like every other member of the Dragon Lairs had last night. His eyes flew open and he leaned his head back to look up at River again, who was smiling down at him and doing his goddamn best to hold back a chuckle.

  He lifted the muzzle from his face and turned it up toward the ceiling. "It's Verna's gun," River told him. "She ain't put a single goddamn bullet in this thing since I bought it for her. I thought tonight would be different with you actin' like such a piss ass motherfucker, but I guess not. For some reason, she seems to find somethin' worthy in you; maybe the same thing that my mother found all those years ago, but I gotta tell you, motherfucker, I don't find shit and never fuckin' will."

  "I could say the same thing about Mia," he spat.

  River bobbed his head. "I could too. But the one goddamn thing she'll never have to worry about is me becomin' you."

  Wolf raised his arms out and laughed. "You already have, son. The minute you beat that fucker into the ground outside of his own goddamn house twenty fuckin' years ago, you became me."

  "If I was still that same son of a bitch," said River. "If I was the same motherfucker even a few months ago, maybe. But the one thing I can say for a fuckin' fact right damn now, is that I'm somethin' you'll never fuckin' be, asshole--"

  "What's that?"

  "Better." River tossed Verna's gun across the room, then ripped his own gun from his holster and lowered the muzzle back to Wolf's forehead; he clicked the trigger again just to watch him flinch against it for the second time, and smirked.

  "Yo, Riv," a hard voice called out from the front of the club. He turned his head toward the door and saw Blue standing in the doorway with wide eyes and opened hands. "Brother, what the fuck?"

  "This don't concern you, asshole." River turned back to Wolf, who had kept his eyes on River even as he turned away. "This is between me and this motherfucker here."

  Blue stared between them and tilted his head. "He your old man?" he asked.

  Slowly, River nodded his head. "Who told you that shit?"

  "Tiny all but confirmed some shit last night about Wolf havin' a kid out there when he was goadin' Styx about his mother. Didn't know it was you brother, not 'til now, but the shit makes alota fuckin' sense--"

  "What the fuck do you want, Blue?" asked River, steadying his feet as he pressed the muzzle hard enough against Wolf's pale skin to leave a fresh, red dent.

  Blue moved further into the club and puffed out his chest. "It's Mia," he blurted.

  Suddenly, River dropped the gun from Wolf and turned to stare at his friend.
"What?"

  "She's gone, brother."

  "What the fuck are you talkin' about ‘she's gone’?" he growled. "She was fuckin' fine when I left--"

  "Ricky and a few of his boys came and snatched her up," he interjected.

  His brows flinched and he puffed out his chest. His face turned cherry red and his eyes damn near flew out of his fucking head. "WHAT? How the FUCK was that asshole able to anywhere near her?"

  Blue gulped. "Verna called me when she got to your house, told me she couldn't get through to you but that you were here with Wolf. She said when she pulled up in the driveway that the front door was cracked open; she could see some light or shit peekin' out the side of it and it made her nervous as fuck. Made her think twice about even goin' inside 'til she realized Trucker's bike was there and he was nowhere in sight. So she went inside and as soon as she opened the door, found your mother knocked out like she'd been hit in the back of her head with the butt of a gun, and tied up in the living room with Trucker dumped in the middle of the fuckin' floor. He'd been shot in the goddamn neck with one of those pellet guns that put you to fuckin' sleep, and stabbed in the fuckin' chest and stomach a few times with a kitchen knife."

  River anxiously dragged his hand down his face and sucked in air. He couldn't believe what the fuck he was hearing about this shit, about Ricky, about his mother, Trucker and more importantly, about Mia; he didn't want to fucking believe a goddamn word of it was true. "Was he still breathin' when she got there? My mother?"

  "Yeah. She called up the private doc, right along with Snake and Shiver, to come and help 'em both out before they headed off to the hospital to get fully stitched up."

  "Alright--" He stuffed his gun back inside his holster and raced over to his jacket, working as quickly as he could to throw it back on.

  "But there's somethin' else, Riv."

  "What the fuck else?" he snapped, his voice rattling with nerves as he felt like they were wasting too much goddamn time that he could've been spending in getting to Mia.

 

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