Page 43 of Riot’s Thorn (Sons of Erebus: Reno, NV #4)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
RIOT
I brush a lock of Parker’s hair off her cheek, loving how innocent and peaceful she looks when she sleeps.
She’s had a busy week with very little downtime, and I can tell it’s draining her.
That’s why last night, I left some lavender-scented bath oil and a few other things to encourage her to relax.
It made me proud to watch her sink into a bath tonight, close her eyes, and let a little of her worry melt away. I like that even though we’re not together right now, I’m still taking care of her. Hopefully, I’m proving to her she can depend on me.
I tuck the stuffed rat I left for her a few nights ago under her arm, and she stirs, bringing it closer to her chest. The idea came to me when I was playing with Ben and Amy, trying to cheer them up. We all miss Parker, and with the construction, our lives have been upended.
Thankfully, Rigger and Navy let me move into their cabin while mine is being renovated, but it’s just not the same.
I’ve lost control of my life, and it’s making me irrational and angry, something Killer’s grateful for because we crossed another name off her list this week, and fucking hell, did we make a mess of that guy.
Of course, Killer stabbed a million holes into him.
Something about the way the knife feels as it moves through skin and muscle does it for her.
While she was doing that, I flayed open his cock and balls.
I always wanted to know what they look like on the inside, and now I do.
His screams matched the way I feel inside right now, and it was comforting to know I wasn’t alone.
Once that was done, I sliced down his breastbone and peeled back the skin on each side of his chest until his insides were exposed.
It felt like I was creating art, putting my feelings out into the world.
I hope whoever finds him sees what I did and understands what I’m going through without Parker by my side.
These nightly visits aren’t enough. I want her to be conscious—arguing with me, understanding me, fucking me. I reach down to readjust my cock, but it feels good to touch myself, so I don’t stop. As I stare down at my beautiful fiancée, I rub myself to a full erection.
Parker put on quite the show tonight. After her bath, she drained some water before turning on the faucet.
It had a removable head, probably to make cleaning the tub easier, or maybe Parker used it as it was intended—to get herself off.
She draped her legs over each side of the tub, and even though I couldn’t see what she was doing, it was obvious. So was the orgasm she had.
Was she thinking of me? Could she sense me coming at the same time as her, spraying my cum all over a tree?
It better have been me on her mind and not that Roland prick.
She might not see what he’s doing, but I do.
Picking her up every morning with coffee and breakfast in hand, opening her car door for her, and then walking her to the door each night—it’s all I can do not to kill the motherfucker.
I still might if he lays one goddamn finger on her.
My usual rage burns hot in my chest, and my need to claim my woman is so strong, I unbutton my pants and pull my cock out.
From her dirty clothes, I grab her silky panties and hold them to my nose as I stroke.
Her scent is indescribable, something my mind has just associated with sex. One whiff, and I’m ready to blow.
I lick the crotch of her panties, hoping to get a taste, and am pleasantly surprised when a light burst of flavor hits my tongue. It’s not as good as directly from the source, but it’ll tide me over for now. I suck the fabric into my mouth, and with the hand not tugging on my cock, I cup my balls.
Fuck, that feels good, though it’s so much better when Parker sucks them.
Goddamn, it turned me on to look down at her, her mouth full of my balls, her small hand running up and down my length.
. . fuucckk. My orgasm hits like a ton of bricks.
I had no plan for where I wanted to aim, so at the last moment, I went for her hair.
I’d love to come all over her face, but that might wake her up.
She’s going to be pissed either way, but as I milk the last drop from my dick, I don’t have it in me to be sorry. If she wants to control where my cum goes, she’ll have to come back to me. Until then, it’s Riot’s choice.
“Look who decided to show up to help rebuild his own house,” Lucky says, sliding a hammer into his tool belt.
I glare. “I am paying you.”
“I don’t want your money; I want a marker.”
“Oh yeah?” This interests me. The only markers people want from me are to kill someone. Who does Lucky want dead?
“Not that kind of marker.” The bastard beams the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. “Tinleigh’s pregnant.”
Since that means fuck all to me, I walk around my house that’s basically been stripped to the studs. I didn’t need to pay the construction company for demolition when I had prospects and a goddamn giant who could knock a wall down with his bare hands, so we won’t start to rebuild until next week.
Outside the cabin, there are stakes in the ground and orange spray paint marking where I’m adding on so the concrete pad can be expanded.
The two biggest areas of change are a primary ensuite and a spare bedroom.
There are a bunch of minor changes as well.
The kitchen layout will now be open to the living room and have some extra square footage for counter space, and there will be an actual pantry, since the rats are moving out of the current one.
The biggest change probably isn’t the ensuite or extra bedroom—it’s the rats’ new home.
The living room is losing a little square footage because I’m having an enclosure built for the rats that will span one whole wall.
There will be access points throughout so I can clean and do general upkeep.
Even though the enclosure will be bioactive, I still have to be able to keep the soil damp and turn it over to prevent ammonia buildup.
Not to mention, I have to clean the litter box.
There will also be a screen door to the outside I can lock and unlock.
The atrium will consist of chew-proof materials so they can enjoy fresh air while still being contained.
Plus, more space means I can give Amy and Ben new friends.
Unlike me, rats are social creatures, so I’m sure it will add to their enjoyment of life.
“Riot, did you hear me?” Lucky asks.
“Yeah. You want a marker. Whatever. That’s fine.” I glance over at the prospects loading the big dumpster with all the demolished material from my cabin.
“No, the part about me becoming a dad.”
“I heard you. Abortion is legal in Nevada, just so you know.”
“You’re fucking goddamn asshole. She’s not getting an abortion. We want the baby.”
“Then congrats, I guess,” I say dismissively, too caught up in trying to envision the new floor plan.
“Holy shit, dude. You ruined my joke. I was asking for a marker and telling you we’re pregnant so you’d put two and two together that the marker was for babysitting.”
“You aren’t pregnant.”
His face screws up, and he scoffs. “What?”
“You said, ‘We’re pregnant,’ but Tinleigh, depending on how far along she is, is the only one with a zygote in her uterus.”
He unclips his tool belt. “I don’t even know why I try with you. We’re done here; the construction crew will take over on Monday.”
“I know.”
“You’re fucking welcome,” he sneers.
I don’t stop him to ask him why he’s angry, since it’ll make me look stupid, but as I run the conversation through my head, I can’t figure out what I did wrong.
Everything I said was factual. People usually only talk to me about people they want dead, especially when they’re asking for a marker as payment, so I assumed he was trying to figure out how to kill the bundle of cells Tinleigh’s carrying.
He said I ruined his joke, but it wasn’t even funny.
No one in their right mind would trust me with their baby.
I’m not even sure Parker and I should have kids.
What if they come out like me? That would be a curse I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
Feeling like everyone you meet lives in a different world than you do is difficult.
Finding my old corner, which is nothing but a stud now, I sit down, bending my knees and resting my arms on them.
My life is in turmoil. I don’t have my safe space or Parker.
Even when I try to tell myself it’s temporary, it doesn’t help because I can’t see that far ahead. The right now is too overwhelming.
I check the time and force myself to my feet. Parker should be done at the lawyer’s office soon. Roland keeps her calendar in her phone, and since I broke into the device on the first night, all I have to do is type in her birthday for the code and know where she’ll be and when.
As I ride through the city, my eyes grow heavy.
I’m exhausted and need some sleep, but there aren’t enough hours in the day.
If Parker is at the cabin, I’m there, watching her and keeping her safe.
The only time I don’t stay close by is when she’s at the lawyer’s because there’s no way they’d let me in, so I use that time to sleep.
But it’s only a couple of hours here and there.
I don’t know what she decided to do with the company, but she has to be wrapping things up soon, and then what? Will she be at the cabin all day?
Today is different than all the other days, though, because it’s her dad’s funeral and memorial.
After putting on a pair of clean black jeans, a black T-shirt, and my cut, I ride right to the cemetery and park on the opposite end from where he’ll be put to rest. She’ll never know I’m here, but it felt right to dress up the best I can with what I own.