Inflamed: A Shadow Riders MC Read online

  "What I know, and what I have in this" -- I pointed to the cloth -- "can help to get your business back on track. I know that members of this club fled from Crescent Beach and claimed nomad the minute word got out about that fire."

  He bellowed. "What the fuck do you know about bein' a goddamn nomad?"

  "Not much aside from what I've heard about it. People talk. Maybe not loud enough for you to hear, but they talk a lot and word travels from city to city. I also know, from what I've heard, that with them gone, you've had more problems from outside clubs wanting to patch you over. On top of the fact that most who fled were mechanics, leaving your garage in a lurch, which probably didn't matter all too much anyway considering people stopped coming around for even the smallest of tune-ups. After word of that fire spread, most of Crescent Beach viewed the club as everything the police ever said you all were -- murderers, womanizers, sex fiends, just all around bad people."

  "And you never fuckin' thought that, just like the rest of 'em before I 'saved' you, or even after when you saw me nearly beat a motherfucker to death?"

  "What I thought before you helped me doesn't matter. In fact, what I think now probably doesn't matter to you either and in truth, it shouldn't. What should matter is that I can help you in spite of it."

  "That piece of cloth might've saved your soul, darlin', but it sure as fuck can't save this club or get any of my boys back to where they belong."

  "I bet that it can. The cops more than likely won't believe me about it because they don't want to. But I can almost bet that the members who fled will come back once they learn who was actually responsible for that fire and help you to get rid of him once and for all. And if they choose to stay, it means that your garage can get to running again, which means more money for your business and club, because word will spread like wildfire about Ricky."

  "And me protectin' you before and after word gets out about him keeps you safe?"

  "Something like that."

  He snickered. "You seem pretty fuckin' confident that a piece of goddamn cloth can do all of that."

  "It's not just the cloth," I told him. "But it's something worth starting with, don't you think?"

  River finished off yet another shot and flung his glass across the bar. "This is some 'I scratch your back, you scratch mine' bullshit that may or may not get my goddamn club right back where it needs to fuckin' be."

  "What have you got to lose?" I asked.

  "A whole motherfuckin' lot including my VP status if shit doesn't go down for me the way you're promisin' it will."

  I knew I shouldn't have all but made a promise to him that I couldn't keep, because in truth, I had no clue if what I was proposing for him and his club would in fact happen. But to say that I was desperate as hell for his help once again at that point would've been the understatement of the millennium.

  We stared at each other for a long time until River finally broke away from me and turned at the roar of a motorcycle pulling up outside.

  "Shit," he grumbled. "One of my boys is back and I've still got that goddamn bitch back in my room--"

  "Do we have a deal?" I asked him, ignoring any and absolutely everything else regarding the woman who had more than likely been waiting spread eagle across his bed for the last hour or so. "Because as much as I might not be all that eager to stick around and listen to whatever noises are sure to come out of that room later, I still don't plan on going anyplace until I get the answer I need from you."

  "Goddamn, you seem like one motherfuckin' pain in the ass."

  “Just imagine me if I don’t get exactly what I came here for.”

  “Shit.” He wiped his hand down the front of his face and groaned. "Where the fuck are you stayin' now?"

  "At the Watershed Apartments just a few miles from the beach."

  "And it's just you and the kid stayin' there?"

  “Yes and for the last few weeks, Ricky’s known all about it.”

  “Shit. If that’s the case, that motherfucker is probably havin’ you tailed--”

  “Was having me tailed. You’d be amazed at the amount of strength a man loses when he’s got the wires of a stun gun can attached to his balls.”

  “Jesus.” River roamed his eyes around the club. I wasn’t sure if he was completely frightened by me, or heavily impressed by what I had done. He dropped his hand to his chest and tightened the muscles in his face. "Look, if we do this shit, we’re do it my fuckin’ way, alright?” he growled.

  “Alright... Except what exactly does that mean?”

  “It means that with my club bein' in the state it's in, the only way to remotely make this shit work out for the both of us equally is if you and your kid get the hell outta Tampa and bring your asses here permanently."

  "Here? As in Crescent Beach?"

  “Here as in...” He bent forward and opened his arms wide. "Your new goddamn motherfuckin' home sweet home."

  "The Compound?" I spun around in my chair and took another visual sweep of the club. Aside from the awful smell and knowing that he still had a woman in the back that he seemed all too eager to get back to screwing until they both went blind, the place was the definition of pure, unadulterated filth. "You want me to stay here with my child? I'm sorry, but no, no way in hell. Between the constant drinking and widely known 'pussy parties', I'd be an absolute fool to bring a child into this kind of environment and call it 'home'. Even dysfunction sounds like too kind of a word to use in this case--"

  "Look, I don't exactly want you or your kid runnin' around here anymore than you wanna fuckin' be here."

  "Nice--"

  "But let's get real, neither one of us has got much of a goddamn choice in the matter if we both wanna get somethin' outta this fuckin' deal aside from that prick's head on a silver fuckin' platter." River rounded the bar and headed over to the door leading to the parking lot. "There's a spare room in the back of the place that nobody ever uses. It's got all the shit you and your kid are gonna need to keep afloat around here, except a shower. Only one we've got is in my room, and I don't let too many people use it."

  "So I'm forced to make sacrifices by uprooting everything I know to move here, but you're unwilling to let us use your shower? Why? Are the walls of it covered in nothing but cum?"

  He looked over at me with wide eyes and blinked once.

  After the apparent shock wore off, he turned just as the biker who had pulled up, yelled out and waved him to the parking lot. He nodded and rested his hands on either side of his waist. "Where the hell is your kid now?" he directed toward me.

  "School."

  "You plan on keepin' her in it after movin' down here?"

  I shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? I mean I obviously won't be able to keep her in the exact same one, but let's face it, quality education for children of color is priceless and not often easy to come by out here. And the White Plains school is pretty top notch, which means it’ll be hard as hell trying to find one to top it on such short notice--"

  “Shit,” he interjected.

  “What?”

  He grinded his teeth. "Look, you don’t need to go makin’ this shit a goddamn color thing about the schools, alright?"

  I tilted my head and made a face, confused. "What--?"

  "Don't accuse me of bein' some kinda goddamn racist over this shit – me wantin’ to keep your kid outta school.”

  "I wasn't accusing you of anything, actually. But to be perfectly honest, given your entire attitude about it, I just might start to wonder."

  "I wasn't makin' a mark about you and your kid bein'..." He waved his hand, gesturing toward me. "What you are."

  "Black. It's okay, all the 'cool' kids are still saying it," I shot back.

  "LOOK!" he roared, and I would swear the sound of his voice shook the walls around us. "The point I was makin' was that if you keep her in school no matter where the fuck it’s located, that crazy son of a bitch or someone on his payroll will find her. It's no different than if you tried findin' another goddamn place t
o live out here, even in my name. Ricky's a ruthless motherfucker. You should know better than a lot what kind of goddamn savage he can be, to the point where he doesn't give a fuck about anybody but his goddamn self. His own fuckin' family'll probably be no safer than you once he gets out for good. You turn your back once and that asshole will snatch your kid right outta class beneath your goddamn nose without you bein' the wiser of it."

  I hated to even admit it given how hateful he sounded toward me, but the truth was that he had an unfortunate point. Tailing me from the moment he finally learned he was the father of my child proved just how many people Ricky had in his corner. Hell, even his people had people. And those people had even more important people sitting high up in gold framed chairs behind bullet proof walls from Dubai to New Mexico. I was probably stupid as all get out to believe that just a man and his motorcycle club could even manage to protect me from all of that, but with no one of any real authority or importance willing to help me, what the hell choice did I have?

  And I knew that if I wanted to keep my daughter completely safe from him and those around him, there was no way in hell that I could continue to allow her to be out of my sight for even a second. At least not until Ricky and maybe even the more important members of his crew were rightfully eliminated from the equation.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot against the floor, defiantly agitated but determined as hell. "If I choose to stay here," I said, "which I'm not agreeing to just yet, what exactly am I supposed to tell people?"

  "The ones you know?"

  "The other members of your club. I can't imagine that any of them would be too happy about an eight year old kid running around during the times they'd rather be reclined with whatever hoochie-mama comes prancing through here."

  "You let me handle my own goddamn club, alright? In the meantime, you take care of whatever the fuck it is that you need to deal with and bring your ass back here no later than midnight tonight so that I can make sure both you and your kid are accounted for."

  "You mean you want me to drive back to Tampa, pack up my stuff, and then come back here to you in the same night?!" I laughed, though there wasn't a single thing about this that I found remotely funny. "You must be out of your entire mind! It'll be days before I can get everything out of there, and what I can't get out, I'll have to try and sell. It's bad enough that you're not giving me any time to inform my child of her new living arrangements but--"

  "What the fuck were you expectin'? You said that crazy piece of shit gets out soon."

  "I know that, but in the meantime, I still have furniture that needs to be stored and bills that need to be paid! I have to give notice to not only my child's school, but to my landlord and leave on good terms with both in case I ever want to move back. And I need to give my parent's some time to understand why they more than likely won't be able to contact me or their grandchild as often as they'd like to anymore. Not to mention giving them a heads up about this whole thing in the first place, so at the very least, maybe they can get out before he does! You can't just expect me to drop everything and move here in less than a freaking day just because I need your help."

  "The fuck I can't."

  "What you're asking of me isn't just unrealistic, River, it's practically insane! You can't just pick me up and toss me over your shoulder like some kind of caveman and throw me down wherever and whenever you see fit -- it's barbaric!"

  He stomped back over and stood so close to me that I could feel something hard pressing down against my pelvis.

  I peeked up at his gigantic build as he hovered over my five-foot-nine frame, inhaling sharply and exhaling hard enough to shove his chest into mine; then I looked down between us. My eyes practically flew into another dimension when I saw the ginormous bulge in his pants and I gulped so hard that I nearly swallowed my own tongue.

  I stepped back as my legs quaked involuntarily against him and it was obvious that he hadn't planned to move away from me any time soon. When I looked up at him again, I couldn't help but be mildly curious about what the hell he was even thinking while staring down at me. His eyes twitched as that steel blue color in them grew dark. His nostrils flared again and his lips seemed to quiver in question of the right words to use. Was he suddenly hard up and acting this way because he had been with me for so long pitching a fit, or had the woman back in his bedroom been on his mind the entire time? It was something I was almost curious enough to ask out loud, but not bold enough to be willing to hear the answer.

  "You came here askin' for my goddamn help, alright?" he finally said in a low, gravelly voice that seemed to rumble against every syllable used. "I'm givin' you all the fuck that I can on a short fuckin' notice and tellin' you how shit's gonna motherfuckin' be around here and with me from now until the goddamn end."

  "I--"

  He bent his face toward mine and clamped his teeth together. A mixture of sweat, alcohol and his natural pheromones filled my nostrils, leaving me at a cross between wanting to taste every drop of him on my tongue and slug him right in the face with the head of my fist or a hammer. Given our proximity, the truth is that I can’t really say which one I wanted to do more of.

  "You want me to save you, keep you and your goddamn kid safe from that sick, twisted fuck? This is how the fuck we're gonna play it, doll." He stepped back, huffing and puffing so hard, I thought he might actually blow me over if he opened his mouth even an inch wider. "I'll get enough money to cover your motherfuckin' rent so you don't have to do somethin' stupid like fuck your landlord or suck his cock in order to remain on 'good terms' with him."

  I wrinkled my nose. "He's actually a she."

  "Then I guess lick her pussy," he said.

  I wanted to puke. "She's not exactly a lesbian."

  "Shit, sometimes it makes no goddamn difference when it comes to money with these hungry motherfuckers and what can be given in exchange for it, doll. I’ll get in her face about it, then we can sell your fuckin’ furniture for the extra cash durin' a club auction, 'cause you're gonna need it anyway after you quit your job out there, assumin' you've actually got one."

  “Assuming I’ve actually got one?”

  “Well do ya?” he snapped, his tone harsh. It was clear that he was becoming just as fed up with me as I was with both him and the entire situation at hand.

  I pulled my lip into my mouth to keep from saying something I knew I’d regret later if not in that very moment already, and bit down hard before muttering, "I'm a temp."

  "Then you’ve got one, a bunch of different ones as a matter of fact. Now look, all that other shit aside from what I just mentioned has no goddamn concern to me whatsoever ‘cause it's not my goddamn problem, alright?" He spun away from me and headed back over to the door. "This is your goddamn life now," he said. "If you'd have kept your fuckin' mouth shut about that piece of cloth and the goddamn fire, you wouldn't be stuck with the possibility of seein' bitches paradin' in and outta here with their tits and asses hangin' out and motherfuckers who like bein' sucked off out in the open. We'll shield your kid from that shit as best as we can, but I'm not the kind of motherfucker who makes a promise he can't keep."

  "So you're not making one at all, is that it?"

  "That's it."

  He took one last look at me before stepping outside and leaving me completely alone with my thoughts. My thoughts, my thoughts, my stupid, stupid thoughts; the same ones that pushed me into coming here and forced me into regret the minute I first opened my mouth.

  What the hell was I thinking? I assumed if he was willing to help me at all that he would want me nearby, but moving here just mere hours after telling him so? And not only to Crescent Beach, but expecting me to stay in a den of sin with my child? Pussy parties. Club whores. Guns and booze, maybe even drugs all out in the open for her to see. And it's clear that he's not comfortable around someone like me as much as he might like to think he is.

  But River Hawkins is my only way out of a life encased by fear.


  “Damn it.” The truth of that statement plagued my mind to the point of producing a full on headache, one I was all too eager to get rid of. I eyed the liquor with reverence but frowned in knowing the consequences. I shook my head anyway and sighed. “Screw it.”

  I slid my purse across the counter, reached over the bar for that opened bottle of tequila, poured until it spilled over the shot glass and drank it back too quick to regret it.

  This man is my only chance of survival.

  I moaned while pouring another glass, and then another, and then another until I felt the sensible parts of my brain going so far numb they felt like rubber. And as that liquor burned the back of my throat and settled right into my belly, I figured that being stuck inside the club for God only knew how long, was my punishment for being a completely shitty person in a previous life. Given the current set of circumstances surrounding me, there had to be absolutely no damn doubt about it.

  Chapter Four

  River stepped outside and found Blue near the garage and leaning on his bike, while mumbling what sounded like ‘sweet nothings’ into the ear of some random bitch in his phone.

  He walked over and slapped him on the back.

  Blue whipped his head around and nodded up at him. "Lem’me call you back," he said to the person on the other end of the line. He snapped his phone shut before the person could respond, and tossed it inside the pocket of his Shadow Riders jacket. "'Sup, brother?" He gave River a quick hug and pat on the back.

  "Too much for bein' so early in the fuckin’ mornin'," he replied through a snarl. “That’s for goddamn sure.”

  Blue pulled back from him and laughed. "Shit, that bitch from last night already givin' you trouble, motherfucker? And none of the good kind?" He dropped back and ripped a pack of cigarettes from a pocket sewn into the seat of his bike.

  "Yeah, but she's not the only bitch I've got crawlin' up my ass and makin' a goddamn home for herself inside there."