Inflamed: A Shadow Riders MC (21 page)

"What the fuck were they supposed to do, Riv? Accordin' to you, Mia was knocked out cold thanks to drinkin' up half the goddamn bar, and you couldn't get there cause you had to get back here for church. You didn't want her parent's gettin' involved 'cause then they'd have to know exactly what the fuck's goin' on. And all these assholes know how to do is throw fists, pull knives and verbally slice a motherfucker 'til they bleed. If you were expectin' some sorta kumbaya shit from all this--"

River groaned and spun away from him on the balls of his feet. The tight and tense feeling inside his chest started to loosen up only as he slowly breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. He knew Blue was right,
again
. He knew what he would get in asking any member of the club to retrieve Avery for Mia. He was targeting every bit of his anger at the wrong two people and he knew that too.

"Where's Mia now?" said Blue.

"In that back room with her kid."

"What she think about it?"

"I didn't stick around long enough to ask."

"You two sure were back there for a pretty long fuckin' time for you not to ask how she's likin' her new 'livin' arrangements'."

He lowered his head. "She just kept thankin' me and shit for lettin' her stay here."

Blue snickered. "And that's what you call a bad fuckin' thing? Brother, I'm gonna need you to get your goddamn priorities back in order when it comes to these bitches."

"She thanked me this mornin' after I took her back home." He rattled his head. "I don't think she fuckin' remembers sayin' any of that shit to me then. Or what I even said to her in return."

"Maybe next time you can get her to thank you with that goddamn mouth instead. Never in my fuckin' life have I seen a set a lips that look like two soft pillows just planted right onto a bitch's face, 'til her."

"Her mouth is the least of my goddamn problems, motherfucker," he said under his breath. "Or maybe it's most of 'em." He anxiously snaked his fingers through the waves of his hair and moved back over to the club. "This bitch is all around fuckin' me up." He balled his fists. "FUCK!"

Blue stood back and chuckled while lighting up his cigarette. "Motherfucker, why the fuck are you actin' like this is some kinda goddamn shock to you? Or a motherfuckin’ revelation? Why the fuck do you think I've been fuckin' with you since the very second I saw that bitch walk outta here this mornin'?"

"I'm not actin' shocked," he said. "Just..." He flared his temples. "FUCK!" He sent his fist flying into the side of the building, but quickly pulled back and stretched out his fingers when he heard his knuckles cracking.

Blue moved in behind him and stared at the fist sized dent. "You wanna taste of her pussy, it’s cool,” he said. “In the meantime, what the fuck did you find out about this Fontaine shit?”

River shrugged him off and moved over to the cement picnic table on the other side of the lot. He climbed on top and dropped his feet on the bench. "Prez is still lookin' into alota shit as far as that son of a bitch is concerned, but every goddamn word from Mia's mouth was legit. And he’s gettin’ out, his guy told him as much."

"When?"

"Says a few weeks but that part cold be bullshit. Asshole could be out by tomorrow for all we fuckin' know or he could be out next month if he's not out here walkin' the goddamn streets already." River wrapped his hand around his swollen fist.

"So this bitch could be here longer than even
she
might've planned for it." Blue took a seat beside him on the table and took one quick drag of his cigarette. "Lem’me ask you somethin', Riv. What the fuck were you really lookin' to get outta this shit with Mia? Aside from the reasons you claimed before? 'Cause it'd be easy as fuck if you just used your own goddamn mouth to speak what we all know regardin’ how much you just wanna get laid by this bitch, and how."

"What the fuck does my cock have to do with the shit I just said?"

"Every goddamn thing, VP," he replied. "Every goddamn, single fuckin’ thing."

They stared at each other until River finally broke contact and lowered his head.

Silence traveled between them until he finally spoke again.

"You know what the fuck happened to my mother," he mumbled. “The motherfuckers who left her for fuckin’ dead.”

He sat back and made a face. "Motherfucker, forget the bullshit and the way you’ve always felt about folks who look like her ‘cause of what the fuck happened to Jolene. When you look at this bitch beyond that shit, and I mean when you’re really lookin’ and starin’ right into those goddamn beautiful as fuck eyes of hers and nothin’ else, not another goddamn thing else ‘cept for those big grey eyes, asshole; what the fuck is it that you’re actually seein’? Is it those motherfuckers? Is it her? Or is it your own goddamn reflection starin’ right back at you?”

“When’d the fuck you get so goddamn deep, asshole?”

“Right around the same fuckin’ time your cock started twitchin’ around this bitch more than mine,” he said. “What the fuck do you see when you look at her, Riv? Hand to God, what the fuck is it that you see?”

River tore his eyes away from the ground and thought of how to answer.

And then he sat back shaking his head because men like him didn't wonder and think about shit like this. Men like him did every goddamn thing they could to wonder and think of anything BUT shit like this. It was the lesser men who considered this shit, the weaker motherfuckers who valued the actual worth of a woman more than just what she had to offer him between her goddamn legs or inside her blouse. It was men like Styx who put the idea of who a woman was before her pussy, and he always thought him such a pansy son of a bitch because of it, just like his old man.

But the more time he spent with Mia, the more she spoke to him, the more she listened; the more she looked at him as if he was truly more than just some piece of shit biker with a giant cage around his heart and a constant axe to grind in someone, the more he started to wonder if thinking like Styx was really so goddamn bad.

Because when he looked at this bitch, really looked at her like Blue said and told himself the honest to God's truth about it all, he saw a chance at something good, something really fucking good that could’ve turned into something great and was damn near better than even being real. He saw his life getting better and he saw a future,
his
future, something that before her coming back into his life was almost a myth inside his own goddamn mind.

He saw shit that blinded most men when they looked at a woman like her, someone who took his breath away and shoved it right back inside his chest at the same goddamn time with just the swift kick of her right hand or even a goddamn foot. He saw too much in her and not enough. He saw the pain and the guilt and the fury and the anger and rage she had built up inside because for too goddamn long, he had all that shit building up inside himself too; though the reasons were different and he knew they'd remain that way no matter how he fucking felt about it all beneath that superficial surface he forced onto such an unstable display of emotions.

"Riv." Blue hit him on the arm and shoved his brows together. "I asked you what the fuck you see when you look at this bitch, brother?"

"Jesus." He lifted his eyes and stared out into the parking lot. "I don't even fuckin' know."

Blue kept his eyes on River and nodded. He knew that his best friend was still full of shit. Maybe even more shit than he had been all day. Hell, maybe even more than in his entire, goddamn life.

"Riv." He and Blue whipped their heads around and saw Styx standing in the doorway of the club. River jumped down from and rounded the table. Styx gradually approached him while keeping his guard up and stopped walking the minute they were literally toe to toe with each other.

River looked behind him and saw Trucker leaning back against the pool table, eyeing him in a way that told him Styx coming out there was due to talking to him and not for any other reason. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, waiting for his prospect to speak first.

Styx swallowed hard and inhaled deeply. "We fucked up," he said. Once the words left his mouth, they tasted like acid. He shifted his jaw side to side as if it would somehow relieve how he felt. "There’s no goddamn doubt that we did, and the shit won't happen again."

He tightened his jaw. "Damn fuckin’ right it won’t. ‘Cause let me tell you somethin’, motherfucker, anymore goddamn fuck ups like that and you and the other one can kiss the chance of finally bein' brought into this club as a full-time member for life good fuckin' bye," he said. "I don’t give a fuck who your old man was; the last thing I’m gonna do is tolerate disrespect from a motherfucker I don’t even like bein’ around. Now you feel that shit? I sure in the fuck hope that you do ‘cause it’s me topplin' your oversized ego, motherfucker, with the goddamn weight of my own."

Styx lifted his head and sneered. He didn't like River all that much either to be perfectly honest, never had and probably never would, but he respected him as a superior; both out of obligation and by choice. They had a sort of strange history with one another dating back to Styx's days as a mechanic at the garage that no one seemed to know about, except for Blue. And despite knowing, even he couldn't seem to understand much of the animosity they had for each other. He just knew it was there and that it was more than likely never, ever going away. And now with Mia around and possibly thrown into the mix of it all? He knew it was only bound to get stronger, and much, much worse.

"You and Trucker get Mia's clothes and shit," said River. "Hand 'em off to Verna and she can stick 'em inside her bedroom."

Styx nodded. "Yeah." He turned back to Trucker and pointed his head toward the tow truck.

As they headed over, Blue hopped down from the picnic table and joined River in watching them. "What are you plannin' to do with the rest of her shit? Keep it in your garage so you can stare at it forever?" he asked.

River snarled. "Like I said in the meetin', her shit's bein' auctioned off this weekend."

"Thought it was just an idea you had, didn't know a goddamn decision had already been made without the club,
again
." He grumbled. "Honest to God, Riv, hand straight up to the motherfuckin' sky and Big Man himself: who the fuck do you think is gonna wanna buy that shit? These old ladies are some high class bitches. Second-hand shit from anybody that ain't Oprah or some shit is not exactly their style."

"We won't be sellin' her shit to the old ladies. I'm gonna invite some motherfuckers and their wives and girlfriends or any women they’re fuckin’ at the moment from around the area to stop by."

"Your area?"

"Yeah. They can show up and buy out all her shit for the highest goddamn price point."

"And if they think her shit is no better than their own shit to the point that they don't need any more of it?"

River turned to his friend and glared. "Her shit's gettin' sold on Saturday, motherfucker. No matter who's purchasin' it, her shit's gettin' sold. Trust."

Blue took note of the severe look in his eyes and the hard and determined tone of his voice, traits that only seemed to appear during discussions about Madison or his mother, and snickered. He knew what that shit meant, even if River didn’t. "I'll be a good goddamn motherfucker--"

"Wolf said some shit about droppin' me some info about Fontaine in the mornin'," he interjected, forcing him to cut that portion of the conversation short. "I want you here with me to take note of every goddamn word he says in case he slips up about it later.”

Blue kept a smile on his face and bobbed his head. "Sure, VP, yeah."

"Good," he said. "I'll call you up when he gets in contact with me, so make sure whatever bitch you decide to screw tonight doesn't force you to sleep through that goddamn ringtone." He kept his eyes on Styx as he and Trucker passed them while holding all of Mia and Avery's clothes in their arms, and headed back inside the club. "And keep an eye out for those two motherfuckers before you head out for good tonight."

"Yeah," he replied. "I'll make sure Styx keeps away from your girl." He threw a hand into his back, then rushed back into the club before River could truly react or respond.

Chapter Twelve

Later that night, River returned to what felt like a completely empty house.

"Madison?" he called out, hoping that at least his daughter would be there to greet him.

He flicked on the light and scanned the living room, searching for anything that might’ve been out of place. But from his couches to his television to his vinyls in the corner, everything was just as he had left them two nights before. It was all so absolutely still and quiet; not a single sound was coming from any part of the house. It gave him comfort, but also scared the absolute shit out of him because the one thing River Hawkins hated more than even Ricky Fontaine himself, was being completely alone. The silence gave him too much time to think and too much thinking never seemed to do him much of any good.

After closing the door, he moved into the kitchen and tossed his keys on the table. He removed his leather cut and tossed it on the back of a chair, then went over to the fridge for a beer. As soon as he opened it, he saw a note on the box of beer, written by his daughter, and ripped it off.