Page 50 of Riot’s Thorn (Sons of Erebus: Reno, NV #4)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

RIOT

M y body screams at me to take her up on her offer, but I’m not fixing things between us until I have somewhere to bring her home. I’m sure as hell not allowing my woman to provide us a home. It’s not because I’m a caveman; it’s because I’m fucked in the head.

It didn’t matter how many bills I paid as a teenager; Mom would still kick me out whenever she wanted.

She held it over my head that it was her name on the lease, so she got to decide if I had a bed to sleep in.

Then, the next day, she’d cry and make me feel guilty for being out all night.

I couldn’t make her happy, no matter what.

I don’t think Parker would do the same, but I still have this unwavering need to stay somewhere I can’t get kicked out of.

It’s stupid, but it’s the way it is. So until my place is done, it has to be this way.

Except now that I’ve caved and fucked her before it’s time, it makes it all the more difficult to walk away again.

“Not yet,” I say, hating the look of disappointment on her face.

“When?”

“Soon. I promise.” I cup her cheeks and kiss her pouty lips.

“Are you punishing me for running?”

“No. Not at all. I just need a little more time.”

“Okay,” she concedes. “It’s probably for the best. I have a few more things to wrap up with Dad’s estate, and since my personal assistant quit, it’ll take me longer.”

“He quit, huh?” I ask, sucking the salty flesh of her neck into my mouth.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Glad he got the memo.” The words are out before I’ve thought them through.

“Riot? What did you do?”

I release her skin, admiring the mark it made as I try to dig myself out of this hole. “Nothing. I just had a talk with him.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t understand you were off-limits and shouldn’t be touched.” I pat her ass. “Come on. You better go.”

“How would he know that when I didn’t even know that?

You’ve been breaking into my house, stalking me, leaving me presents, but not actually talking to me.

That doesn’t spell out girlfriend.” There’s the sass I’ve missed so much, but I don’t have time to fuck her again until she forgets why she’s pissed, so it’s not a good time for her to bring it out.

“You’re right, which is exactly why I cleared things up for him.

” I grip her at the base of the throat and dip down.

I can’t meet her eyes, so I stare at her lips.

“Now let me clear it up for you too. You can run away all you want, but I’ll always find you and bring you back to me. You’re mine until the day we die.”

She must like my confession because she leans forward, trying to kiss me, but I pull away, teasing her. Her brows pinch together in irritation. I lean in this time, and she licks her lips, readying for a kiss that never comes because I pull away right before we touch.

“Riot,” she whines.

“When you’re full of my cum, I’m the one in charge, Little Thorn. Don’t forget it.” I pull her into me, slamming my lips into her in a punishing kiss. I’m not sure if it’s her or me, but the metallic taste of blood slips between our tongues as I thrust mine into her mouth, claiming her.

“I’m coming in, Parker. It’s been too long,” one of the heavyweights calls out. “I need to make sure you’re okay. So if you have any tits or bits out, can you cover them up? Rebel will break my dick if I see another woman naked.”

I pull away, noting the drop of red on Parker’s lower lip. Quickly, I suck it off and whisper. “You better go.”

“Okay,” she whispers back, straightening her dress. Then she opens the stall and strides out, rounding the corner to where the sinks are. I wait until I hear her rambling about her stomach issues and the water turns on and off before exiting the stall myself.

There’s no reason to keep this a secret; she has no one to answer to, but forbidden is fun. It’s all part of the game, just like stalking her. This is the build-up until the day I bring her back, and when I do, it’ll be explosive.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” an elderly woman pulling on an oxygen mask asks on my way out of the bathroom. “This is the ladies’ room.”

“Don’t worry, you old bag. I’m not trying to get a look at whatever saggy situation you have going on.”

She gasps. “Why, I never?—”

The door closes before her insult lands, and I slink back into the shadows. Except when I get back to the nightclub, it’s chaos. There’s a stampede of people running out the doors with looks of terror on their faces. What the fuck happened?

I doubt anyone will stop long enough to tell me, but I hear something about an active shooter.

Scanning the crowd, I look for my little thorn or her bodyguards, but I don’t find them among all the faces.

I shove my way inside, going against the flow of traffic.

If she’s still in there, I need to find her so I can protect her.

Allowing the fear to drain away, I go into what Parker calls “badass biker mode.” I assess the situation without emotion, finding a chair to stand on so I can see above the crowd.

It shouldn’t be that hard to find her bodyguards, as they’re bigger and taller than ninety percent of the kids running around, but it’s dark, and with the music still blasting, my senses are distracted.

I put the earplugs in that I brought specifically for tonight, knowing she’d be in a loud environment, and the sound dulls to something manageable.

It’s then I see one of the guards. He’s pushing people out of his path, his head on a swivel, the same as me.

His hand lifts above his head, and he points to the door while looking across the room. I turn that way and see the other guy.

Neither one of them has Parker.

The lights flip on, and the whole vibe of the place changes. It went from somewhere cool and trendy to just a room with an indoor pool. Then the music turns off, and the only sound left is the panic of people trying to get out the door.

I hop off the chair. She’s not in here. If she were, one of us would’ve spotted her by now.

Pissing off everyone I pass, I push my way back into the casino to continue my search.

Maybe she was washed out with the sea of people fleeing.

If not, where would she be? And why do I keep hearing about a shooter?

There was no one injured that I saw. It doesn’t make sense.

I spot her three friends standing behind tape the security guards are putting up to block the area and head that way. All three have their arms folded, looking scared.

“Where’s Parker?” I ask.

“Who are you?” The tallest one, with bright red hair and a fiery attitude to match, glares at me.

“I’m her boyfriend,” I say, hoping they’ll take me at my word.

“Parker doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

“She didn’t tell you about me? I’m hurt.” There’s no inflection in my tone. “Where is she?”

“We don’t know. That’s why we’re waiting.

She went to the bathroom and had almost reached us when all hell broke loose.

Someone started screaming there was a shooter.

Before we knew what was happening, we were being ushered out here,” the smallest one with blonde hair speaks up. She must be the soft one of the group.

Her bodyguards are out of breath when they find the three girls. “Have you seen Parker? We lost her in the crowd.”

“We were just telling her boyfriend?—”

I disappear into the throngs of people, leaving them to twiddle their thumbs without me. The thorn in my side is missing.

It’s been six hours—six fucking hours—since I’ve seen Parker. After an hour of searching the club and the casino, I had to leave. She wasn’t there, and the only man who could help me was at the clubhouse.

Satyr hacked into the casino’s system, which took too fucking long, and for the last hour, we’ve been combing through the footage, trying to find where she went. There were so many people and so many angles, it’s taking us forever, and with each minute, she feels farther and farther away.

“Riot, the sheriff’s here,” Cy calls out.

I have no proof, but I just know Bart took her. Even though Sheriff Melville is in charge of Storey County, where the brothel is, and not Washoe, where the casino is, he might’ve heard something.

“What do you know about Bart Banks?” I ask as I approach the man.

He scowls. “Hello to you too, Riot.”

“Don’t have time to fuck around. My woman’s missing.”

The sheriff sighs. “I don’t know the man, and I don’t know who your girl is, so if that’s all you need, I’m?—”

“Stop right there, asshole,” I say, stepping in front of the door. “We both know what Bart does, and my woman’s father was part of that before he died. Since she was there when it happened, it’d stand to reason Bart wouldn’t leave her to start blabbing about the shit he has going on.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think? Since you’re in the same business.”

Suddenly, Melville is faced with four pissed-off bikers as some of my brothers stand behind me. “The Honey Pot is legal. Our girls want to be there, and our customers pay them well to spread their legs.”

“And last time I checked, you’ve enjoyed our pussy many times. For free, I might add,” Cy growls.

“I meant no disrespect. You’re right. There is a difference.

” He gentles his tone. “I hate to break it to you, but you can kiss your girl goodbye if Bart has her. He makes sure of it. Even when there’s some self-righteous rookie cop who has it in their head that they’ll be the one to take him down, it never happens because the people at the top are paid well to stop anyone from looking too far into his business.

No one knows his routes or how he disposes of his shipments once they’ve served their purpose. He’s untouchable.”

“He was untouchable,” I correct. “But he pissed off the wrong guy. That woman is the only thing I have in this world, meaning I give zero fucks about who he is and what power he thinks he has. I will burn this goddamn city to the ground to find her.”

Satyr throws an arm around my shoulders, which I shrug off. “This guy is nuttier than a jar of peanut butter. I don’t think he’s bluffing.”

He’s right, of course. I killed my own mother, and now, I kill other people for sport; that’s not a normal thing for humans to do.

But there’s more to me than that, things I didn’t even know about myself until Parker came around.

It makes me wonder if the guys took the time to understand me, would they still think I’m just a freak?

Fuck. Parker’s made me into a pussy with all these gross feelings. Before she came around, I was fine with the way things were. I enjoyed the solitude and was thriving in the life I had. Now, I get offended every time one of my brothers says some shit, because they’re supposed to be my family.

Whatever Melville sees in my eyes must spook him because he loses his attitude. “You said her dad was part of what Bart has going on?”

“Yeah, but Parker didn’t know about it. She only found out after her dad was killed. Considering she’s known Bart since she was a little girl and can remember him cracking jokes about taking her to the basement, I can safely say she was freaked the fuck out by him.”

Melville removes his stupid wide-brimmed hat.

“I may not know anything about Bart specifically, but I’ve been around long enough to know how guys like that work.

He’s arrogant and entitled, so if he’s been wanting her since she was little, he’ll feel it’s his right to sample her before passing her off. ”

I growl and take a menacing step closer. “Say that again, motherfucker. See what happens.”

He holds his hands up. “I’m just telling it how I see it. If I were you, I’d find out where their next little get-together will be. Find that, and you’ll find her.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.” Satyr positions himself between us.

“For what it’s worth, I hope you find her.” Melville puts his hat back on and leaves.

“’Preciate it.” Rigger walks outside with him, probably to make sure things are copacetic. Owning a brothel means we’re constantly under a microscope with the county, and things could go bad for us quickly if the law decides to take issue with the Honey Pot.

“So, what now?” Satyr asks.

“We keep combing through the security feed. We need to know who took her.” I run a hand through my hair. “And I guess we need to find out where the next damn party will be.”