Calming the Riot

by Karen Renee

  “So what’s the problem, then? Because I have to say, I don’t see one, mister.”

  He shook his head at me. “Let me finish. Life isn’t kind to me.”

  “It’s not kind to any of us, Liar.”

  “True enough, so I’ll amend, life’s particularly unkind to me. The better the woman, the less likely I am to have her stick around in my life.”

  I cocked my head slightly while I sent a questioning look his way. “You can’t mean that.”

  His arms shifted, so he had a hand in my hair and the other hand on my ass. “My mom passed when I was five. I don’t have many memories of her, but I know she loved me, and she smelled like lavender. The pictures Dad kept around; she was a stunner. He never put himself back out there. I don’t know why that was. Always seemed like it had somethin’ to do with me—”

  “It’s not easy to be a single parent.”

  “Yeah. I called him on that shit just before I went in the Navy. Couldn’t understand why he put me first and didn’t try to live his life. There was no balance for him. He told me there actually was a woman, but she couldn’t commit to an instant family. After that, he didn’t look for love. Got his rocks off when he could and did it, so I never knew. Bottom line, it’s not you. It’s me. I don’t trust life not to kick me in the teeth.”

  I pulled my lips inside my teeth and bit down. He was laying the heavy on me. I could take his heavy, but no way could I take it and not ask a question that might offend him.

  “So you’re running scared?”

  His head jolted, and those copper eyes went hard. “Don’t do scared.”

  This man was killing me. He was either turning a blind eye or had his head entrenched in the sand. “Fine. You don’t do scared, but you damn sure like to tell me one thing and then the opposite in the next moment. You say you want me, but then you said it’s not me, it’s you ending all that with your distrust of life.”

  “Yep.”

  “Your lack of trust is a form of fear, I hate to tell you, but that’s not the point really. Are you going to deny yourself what you want and what I want because you think life could throw you a curveball at some point?”

  “Christ, you’re too damn smart,” he whispered.

  I shrugged. “Momma didn’t raise a dummy. Besides, couldas, wouldas, and shouldas only lead to one thing, and that’s regrets. So what’s it gonna be? You gonna go after what you want or are you pushing me away with George Costanza’s infamous ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ excuse?”

  Suddenly Liar moved me, and my knees were in the dirt because I was straddling Liar. His eyes bore into mine. “What do you think it’s gonna be?” he asked just before he kissed me harder than I’d ever been kissed in my life.

  Liar

  Liar should have known she’d take his explanation and find the bullshit in it. He never thought of himself as being scared of anything, but hell if she wasn’t right. Operating out of fear was not something he could tolerate of himself, so Liar made the decision to go after this woman because he hadn’t felt something so right in a long time. It might have been predominantly physical so far, but if they were as compatible out of the sack as they were in it, he knew he had a rarity.

  He was kissing her, and she was beginning to grind in his lap, so he gently ended the contact. Thoughts were tumbling around in his mind, and he was working to get a handle on his arousal when she asked a question.

  “Are you a naturalist?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “With your intense love of the earth, Andi, I’m not sure how you mean that question.”

  Her giggle was almost musical, but it was definitely cute. “Pretty sure you know how I mean that question,” she said with another grind on his lap.

  “Then no,” he said on a groan. “I needed to get away from my brothers and the noise of the clubhouse. Love the club and my room in there, but this ain’t exactly the best area sometimes so no, I’m not gonna take you out in nature right now.”

  She grinned. “That’s good, because I’m pretty sure there’s an ant pile over there. And we weren’t exactly stationary yesterday. Seems you like to sprawl.”

  He didn’t like to sprawl. She came onto him like a force of nature which resulted in nearly all of his king-size mattress seeing some of their action. The mention of ants though had him knifing to his feet, but he kept a firm hold on her, and her arms tightened around his neck while her legs wrapped around his body.

  “Think fast, baby, burgers or wings?” he asked carrying her to his bike.

  “Uh, neither,” she said.

  Liar halted and looked her square in the eyes. “What do you mean ‘neither’?”

  Her head leaned toward her shoulder, and an apologetic look shifted over her face. “I only eat burgers if they’re veggie burgers, and the idea of eating a wing turns my stomach.”

  Maybe he didn’t hit the lottery after all because this was the foundation of a high maintenance chick. He squeezed her ass, and she took his signal immediately putting her feet on the ground, so she was standing in front of him. “Let me clarify. Ted’s or Buffalo Wild Wings. Pick quick.”

  “Oh, well, Ted’s because they have fantastic salads, but we should go dutch because they tend to be a little pricey.”

  Now Liar’s head leaned toward his shoulder as he shot her a displeased look. “Wouldn’t have mentioned a place if I wanted your ass to pay for your damn food, woman. Let’s go. I’m hungry, and I gotta taste for bison.”

  “Those poor gentle beasts,” she muttered.

  He shot a sideways look at her. “Have you ever been hunting? Never been north enough to hunt them, but I’m tellin’ you right now, they ain’t as gentle as the damn Nature channel would have you believe.”

  “Is there a Nature channel on TV?”

  They got to his bike, and he turned to her. “Fine. Animal Planet, whatever. They’re like any other animal. You leave them alone, they’ll likely leave you alone, but by God, they damn sure can be mean as hell. All I know is that I’m a damn carnivore and proud of it.”

  Thirty minutes later, Liar took his third bite of an exceptionally juicy bison burger loaded with bacon, onions, tomatoes, and lettuce when Andrea giggled at him while shaking her head. He set his burger down but raised his eyebrows and bulged his eyes in a non-verbal cue for her to explain.

  “You really like your meat, I have to say.”

  Liar washed his food down with some Yuengling shaking his head. “You’re the one who’s going to enjoy my meat,” he goaded.

  Her cheeks flushed, and it made him chuckle. He grabbed a French fry and pointed it at her. “See you like that idea.”

  “Don’t get cocky.”

  “Hard not to when your cheeks are such a pretty shade of pink at the mention of my meat.”

  She sipped her white wine while spearing some of her salad. Since they were out in public, Liar took their conversation out of the gutter. “So, what do you do for fun. Besides sunbathing at your pool.” He bit back his urge to tell her that had to stop because he knew it wouldn’t sit well with her, plus November was approaching, and her opportunities to lay out would be cut off very soon.

  “Not much really. I hate to tell you this, but I’m terribly boring. I like to read, and binge watch Netflix with my cat Mr. Snuffles.”

  “You’re shitting me?”

  Her eyes went side to side rapidly with her confusion. “What do you mean, I’m ‘shitting’ you? Why would I be?”

  He grinned. “You named your poor cat, Mr. Snuffles?”

  Leaning back, she crossed her arms under her tits and Liar’s eyes dropped to the show. He might make it a mission to rile her up everyday if she always reacted that way. “You meet him, believe you me, you’ll agree he’s a Mr. Snuffles if ever there was one. Besides, and this illustrates that you are not a die-hard cat person, but even while they’re kitties, cats do not tolerate being called names that are not appropriate. They might not like their given names, but if the name is completely inappropria
te, a cat will damn well let you know it.”

  Liar couldn’t argue with that even if he wanted to because he had never had a cat of his own. He wasn’t certain he was or was not a cat person, but given his druthers, he’d have a dog. Living at the compound prevented such a thing, but he was more determined than most to save a hefty chunk of change before he bought a home of his own.

  He wasn’t a miser, but he weighed almost all of his purchases more than most men did. It was an occupational hazard of working Hock’s day in and day out. He saw how easy it was to get behind the proverbial eight-ball and how mountainous the challenge was to get out from behind it, let alone get ahead. Many of his customers were repeats. They’d get their loan, come back for the heirloom while also paying the fees and the original loan back. Deep down he had sympathy for them, but he couldn’t give in to this sympathy because it would prevent the shop, and by extension Riot, from making a profit.

  “So, what about you?” Andrea asked.

  “‘What about me,’ what, hon?”

  She chuckled. “What do you do for fun?”

  “Ride, fuck, repeat.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know you’re pulling my leg.”

  He grinned. “Yeah. Just wanted to see if that would rile you up. When I’m not working, I like shooting pool, hanging with my brothers. ‘Fraid I’m not that interesting at the end of the day.”

  She aimed a sideways look at him. “I think you’re holding out on me. But that’s okay. It’ll be even better to find out what you do for fun by doing those things with you rather than just discussing them.”

  Liar snorted. “You want to hang with my brothers?”

  “I didn’t say that, but you could always teach me how to shoot pool.”

  Visions of her lush ass bent over a pool table, and him draped over her backside to teach her how to line up a shot filled Liar’s mind, and he had difficulty swallowing the French fry he was eating. With a sip of his beer, he managed to clear his palate. “You tellin’ me you’ve never played?”

  “No,” she said in a small voice. “But I have to imagine you’re really good, so that leads me to believe you could teach me more than just a thing or two.”

  Liar smirked at her because he had no doubt he could teach her a thing or two about more than just shooting a game of pool.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Liar

  Four Weeks Later…

  Liar had just lined up his shot and pulled the cue back when the front door to the clubhouse flew open dousing the room in bright sunlight from the setting sun. When in the middle of a game, he was practically one with his cue, and he took the shot but the sudden burst of light along with Beast shouting, “Honey, I’m home,” caused him to hit the ball just slightly off his mark. The shot went wide.

  Roll roared with laughter. “Oh yeah. Havin’ your cousin around is gonna be great, Liar.”

  Liar shot Roll a scathing look but thanked God he didn’t wager more than fifty bucks on this game of pool. Turning away from the table, it pleased him to see his cousin coming into the clubhouse with a big-ass duffle in each hand. It would be good to have family close even if he and Beast were just cousins.

  “About time you got into town, you crazy asshole. You got more shit to bring in?” Liar asked moving toward Beast.

  Beast dropped his duffel bags and clapped Liar on the back. “Nothin’ that needs to come in right this second. Soon’s I get these to my room, I gotta get my bike off my truck.”

  An hour later, Liar, Roll, and Rage had helped Beast bring in the last of his boxes from his truck. It was a Wednesday night, and most of the other brothers were home with their women or out carousing. Roll and Rage started their own game of pool and Beast and Liar were sitting at the bar with a bottle of Crown Royal between them.

  “We should wait ‘til Thanksgiving. It ain’t that far off,” Beast said.

  Liar shook his head. “No way. She’s ornery, always has been, but I got a feelin’ she’s even more ornery these days. We need the element of surprise. No way she’s gonna lie to our faces, especially if we’re both standin’ on her doorstep.”

  Beast threw back what was left in his glass, setting the glass on the bar with a thud. “You’re right. Let’s go Friday though. Seen enough of the road today to last me a while.”

  “She’s got that standing lunch date with those hat ladies every Friday. Need to do it tomorrow.”

  “Christ almighty. Were you this bossy before you left Mississippi?”

  ***

  It was overcast when Liar and Beast trudged up the sidewalk outside Gran’s condo. He was just happy the rain had held off so far. Beast knocked on the door.

  Gran opened the door, and her eyes narrowed. Then, she put her hands on her hips. “What are you two boys doin’ here?”

  Right off the bat, Liar noticed Gran had lost a substantial amount of weight. That was not a good sign. Gran didn’t cut corners when it came to her cooking, and his Dad joked that just looking at her biscuits and gravy added a pound to his waistline.

  Liar stooped over to hug her. “We wanted to check on you. Heard you’re sick and knew you’d tell us not to worry even though we’re gonna worry regardless.”

  “I don’t need you boys tryin’ to take care of me, no matter how sick I am.”

  Beast moved into hug her. “Gran, you can tell—”

  His cousin was interrupted by Liar’s father, who had come out of the nearby bathroom. “You heard her. She doesn’t want your help, and frankly, it’s not the way she wants you to remember her either.”

  Liar was shocked as hell to see his old man standing inside Gran’s tiny condominium. His father’s carrot orange hair was standing on end, and Liar suspected the situation might be worse than he thought.

  “What are you doin’ here?”

  His father’s arms were crossed on his broad chest. “I’m here to take care of your Grandmere. Your Uncle Delmas will be down in a few weeks. We’re switchin’ off. I’ve taken FMLA from the casino, but I’m gonna try to split it, so neither me nor Delmas are spread too thin with work or our Momma.”

  Beast nodded, but said, “You know, Liar and I—”

  “Liar? What kind of fool name is that?” Gran interrupted.

  “It’s my road name, Gran. But Beast and I can both help, so neither Dad nor Uncle Delmas are spread too thin.”

  Gran’s eyes narrowed on him and his cousin. “You two will not go by ‘road names’ in my home. I appreciate you havin’ an extended family with your clubs, but you’re Jim and David here. Understand me?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” both men mumbled.

  Liar’s father put his hands on his hips. “Son, don’t get too hip on the idea of helpin’ your Grandmere. She acts like just me bein’ here for her is puttin’ her under duress as it is.”

  “Not under duress, boy. More, you bein’ under foot. Only got one bedroom.”

  “Not stayin’ overnight with you Momma. We don’t need to hash that out more in front of the boys. Jim. You need to give your old man a hug. Goes for you too, David.”

  Jim clapped his father on the back while shaking his hand, then he moved to his Gran to lean over and hug her small frame again. When he stepped away, he saw Beast and his father shaking hands.

  “Speakin’ of not stayin’ with me,” Gran started while spearing both grandsons with a look, “I hope to high heaven the two of you don’t think you’re stayin’ in either of my recliners tonight.”

  Beast chuckled. “No, ma’am. We wouldn’t dare impose that way, and you know it. This was just a day visit, and we’re headed back tonight. Didn’t expect to run into Uncle Charlie when we showed up.”

  “You can say that again,” Liar added.

  Gran nodded. “Well, glad to hear that, though I don’t like the idea of you boys spending that much time on the road in one day, but the upside to this is we can all go to Yoder’s.”

  “Momma, are you sure you can keep that down?”

  “Charles Adrian Hu
ntley, I don’t start treatments until after Thanksgiving. You better believe I’m gonna eat the best food I can get my hands on before I have to go through chemo again. I haven’t forgotten how awful that business was the last time.”

  Liar’s dad opened his mouth, but Liar spoke first. “Yoder’s sounds great, Gran, but you’re not drivin’, so Davy and I will follow you and Dad.”

  Gran speared him with a look and went to her bedroom, but she did it talking. “I don’t know when you went and got so bossy, Jim, but I’ll remind you that I am your elder.”

  Liar’s dad chuckled. Gran pointed a finger at Liar. “You two are damn lucky we had a late breakfast. Otherwise, Yoder’s would be off the table. But this way, we’ll hit it after the lunch rush and before even the earliest of the early-birds show up. Let’s get a move on.”

  ***

  Being around his Gran had a way of making him yearn for the past, but two hours after they had returned from Yoder’s Liar found himself wishing for a slice of the early seventies. It was inevitable because Gran insisted on watching the Game Show Network the remainder of the afternoon. Nearly four episodes of The Match Game and Liar had to wonder if any of the politically-correct delicate flowers had ever bothered to watch an episode. If they had, their ears might combust with the innuendo and sometimes overt crassness of the program. It was great, and Betty White back then was likely twice as funny as she was now. His Gran had fallen asleep about five minutes ago. As he listened to the over-slick sounding announcer prattle on about sponsors and providers of wardrobes, his father caught his eye and tilted his head toward the front of the small condo.

  He stood from the tiny love-seat and followed his father and Beast. His father quietly opened the front door, and all three of them stepped out into the breezeway.

  “She puts up a good front,” his father started in a very low voice.

  “That’s why I wouldn’t settle for callin’ her on the phone,” Liar put in.

  His father’s lips were tightly set for a beat. “She ain’t gonna tell you this, hell, she doesn’t even want to tell your Uncle Delmas this. It’s back, but it’s more aggressive this time around. By the time she told me, she’d already had her second appointment with the oncologist.”