Inflamed: A Shadow Riders MC (63 page)

Wolf turned his dark grey eyes up to his son and squint. "You always were better at usin' those goddamn fists than your fuckin' mouth when it came to dealin' with shit."

"Yeah, it's too fuckin' bad I never got the chance, huh?"

"The chance for what?"

"To really live out my dream to be a fighter. Get paid to kick ass insteada always doin' that shit for free inside the goddamn club, and for you."

Wolf bellowed and poured himself another shot of whiskey. "Inside the goddamn club is right where the fuck you need to be," he said. "Where you always needed to fuckin' be. No matter how the fuck you got here, from the very fuckin' start of it all, you ain't needed to be no place else but
here
."

"
Yeah
," replied River through a clipped response, though he was sure to make it sound as if that single word held a hell of a lot more meaning to him, and his old man, than just those four letters. He swallowed hard and shot his eyes around the club again, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Where the fuck is your wife?"

Wolf leaned his head aside and pointed around the bar. "In the back where she always fuckin' is," he said. "Bitch never stays where the fuck she belongs. This time she's got me locked outta my own goddamn office." He threw back his shot and poured another.

River stopped himself from wrapping a hand around the front of his neck and choking him out, and bypassed him to head off in search of Verna. He made his way down one hallway and then another until he finally reached the door to Wolf's office. He saw 'PREZ' the same as he always did plastered across the front, but this time, he had to stop himself from damn near putting his fist right through it.

"Vern." He knocked once and wiggled the handle. "Verna," he called out again. Seconds later, he heard the lock twist left to right and saw the knob fumbling. When she pulled back the door and looked up at him, tears streaming her cheeks, her face as red as the sunrise, he immediately placed a hand over her mouth before she could speak and took the gun from her hand. After checking the barrel for bullets and spinning it once until it stopped, he slid it behind the rim of his pants and nodded. Her jaw rattled as she tried to keep herself from crying in front of him anymore than she had already, and he took her into his arms and stroked her hair, holding her tight to his chest in the same manner she had often held him as a child. She draped her arms around him in reaction, clawed her fingers into the leather of his jacket and sobbed more silent tears. And he let her. He just fucking let her get out as much of the pain and hurt and anger that she needed to because he felt that shit, he felt it just as much if not more than she did in that very moment; he had felt that shit about that old man for most of his entire fucking life, and now he had a goddamn reason to feel even more. Once she finally pulled back from him, he leaned his head to the right. "Go," he told her.

"I can't leave you here alone with him," she said in a panic. "Not after he's been on a goddamn binge all night--"

"I can handle this motherfucker. You get the hell outta here and head back to my house with Mia and Jolene. You're stayin' there with us tonight."

"River, I--"

"Go," he told her again, his voice harder this time.

She reached a hand up and cupped his cheek; without saying a single goddamn word, it was clear to her that he finally knew the truth about everything regarding Wolf and his mother, and more importantly how he truly came to be involved with the club. She apologized with her eyes as much as she knew her words would do no good for him, then eased out from the office and headed down the hall to the back door of the club.

River sucked in a load of air and clutched the lapels of his jacket in the same place that Mia had before. 'Take the crown' played on loop inside his head as he shut his eyes and turned from the office door.

He headed back down the hall, rounded one corner after another, and then made his way back to the front of the club. After taking back another shot, this time of tequila, Wolf slightly hunched over the bar and combed his fingers through his thick head of solid white hair. River looked at him; he stared hard while wondering if this is how the fuck he would turn out in another fifteen or twenty goddamn years, with his wife hating him for being such a goddamn fucking, two-timing prick and having nothing but the club, his brothers and random pussy to keep him warm at night anytime she chose not to. He didn't want that kind of life. He didn't want to end up like this old man in any way, shape or fucking form.

When Wolf turned his eyes to him, he picked up his shot glass to toast him and smirked. Then he placed it back down on top of the bar and sighed. "She call you down here?" he asked.

River walked back over to the bar and rested his hand against the edge of it. He glared at Wolf for a few seconds longer as so many thoughts sped throughout his mind like a goddamn freight truck going ninety fucking miles an hour that he couldn't get them all sorted the fuck out no matter how much he tried.

"Riv," Wolf called again. "Did she fuckin' call you out here?"

River nodded. "Yeah," he told him. "Told you that shit when I first walked in and asked where the fuck she was."

Wolf grunted and threw back another shot.

River removed his Shadow Riders jacket and placed it around the head of the first stool, then made his way down the bar and stared down at Wolf again before taking a seat right beside him. He leaned over for the bottle of whiskey and placed it between them, then reached over the bar and grabbed himself a clean shot glass. He cracked the lid of the whiskey and poured a shot for himself. But before taking it back, he looked over at Wolf again and raised his glass to him. Wolf poured himself another drink and raised his glass as well. Each man threw their shot back at the same fucking time, then slammed the glasses down on top of the bar and looked straight ahead. River folded his hands while Wolf reached for the whiskey bottle again.

"What the fuck were you two arguing about?" asked River. "Why'd the fuck she call me down here to tell me that you were damn near close to fuckin' her up like before? What the fuck is before, asshole?"

"Before," he said. "When I smacked her around once for lyin' to me about some shit to do with the goddamn club." He threw the shot back. "Shit's why none of these bitches need to be involved so goddamn much in the business of it."

"So attackin' women is the way you continue gettin' shit out of 'em?"

"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.