Page 59 of Riot’s Thorn (Sons of Erebus: Reno, NV #4)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

PARKER

“ T his is sweet and all, and I don’t mean to overstep, but we have company. Time to bounce,” a young guy I’ve never met says.

Riot releases me and looks over. A group of men is walking toward us. All of them look like workers with helmets and vests, but one of them has a security uniform on.

“You want to come with us or stay? I’m sure those guys will help you,” Riot says.

“We’re coming,” Louisa says.

Riot pulls his scary-looking black gun out and fires. The girls jump and scream, but I just watch as the man with the scar falls to the ground, a hole right through his eyeball. “Still want to come with us?”

Louisa and Anne nod, taking the younger girls’ hands.

Riot breaks out into a slow jog, leading us while the younger guy takes the rear.

I’m thankful for the adrenaline of being rescued to help lessen the pain of moving.

If it takes my breath away right now, I don’t think I’d be able to move without it.

I didn’t doubt Riot would come for me, but I was losing hope it’d happen before the ship left. Knowing one or more of us probably wouldn’t make it destroyed me, but that worry is gone because he’s here.

“Hey! What are you doing? Get back here!” The men all yell some form of the same thing as we try to escape. I don’t know if they’re part of this or if they just saw us and came to investigate, but I don’t want to find out. I didn’t get rescued to turn around and get caught again.

As hard as I try to keep up, the pain gets to be more than I can tolerate, and I know I’m slowing everyone down. Riot won’t leave me behind, but I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

“Can you jog?” Riot asks, looking over his shoulder at the nearing trouble.

“I can try, but there’s a chance a rib is broken, my hand might be broken, and my ankle is at least sprained,” I say.

“Fuck.” He stops and turns to the other guy. “She can’t run, but you can. Get the girls to the gate and lead them away from us. We’ll come in after they pass so we can take a little more time.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Don’t fuck this up, Prospect.”

“I won’t.” His serious determination is almost cute as he runs alongside the girls, encouraging them to continue. Louisa looks back at me, and I give her a reassuring nod.

Riot and I weave through the maze of containers, pallets, and miscellaneous piles of stuff. It gives us a lot of places to hide, but Riot seems to have a strategy as he leads us to a specific area. He pulls me down to hide behind a tall spool of cable. It’s comically big, as if made for a giant.

“From here, I can see the gate,” he says, crouching and peering over to look.

“Did they make it?” I ask.

He stays focused on watching for a minute. “Yeah, they just made it to Rigger and Lucky.”

“What now?”

“I wish I could say I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, but I have to kiss you.” He cups my face. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

“It hasn’t been so long that you forgot I like a little pain, has it?”

He crashes his lips to mine, and shit, it really does hurt, but it’s also the best feeling in the world.

He’s here, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the chance to kiss him again.

My split lip reopens, and the coppery taste of blood swirls around our joined tongues, but I don’t pull away.

I know Riot feels a sense of intimacy when he gets a part of me no one else would want, like my blood.

He cherishes the forsaken because he himself feels forsaken.

He gives me one final kiss before resting his forehead on mine. “I need you safe. Let’s get out of here.”

“I love you, Riot,” I blurt out. “I know we haven’t known each other a long time, and I’m not expecting you to say it back, but I need you to know.”

His eyes focus over my shoulder, and I know he’s processing this new information.

I’m not sure he’s ever felt love for or loved by another person, so my feelings aren’t hurt when he kisses my temple and directs his energy back to getting us the hell out of here.

Maybe someday he’ll give me those words, or maybe not.

It doesn’t matter to me because he shows me how he feels in his actions. Like risking his life to save me.

“Pretty soon, this place will be swarming with cops. The guard is already bitching into the radio on his shoulder,” he says. “I’m going to lead them away from the gate. When they go to check it out, get out. There’s a parking lot one block east where the guys are waiting for us.”

“No, I don’t want to leave you.”

“I’m not fucking around, Little Thorn. Do it, or we’ll both end up dead or caught.” His tone brooks no argument.

“Riot—”

He grips me by the throat, and his eyes go dark. “Fucking do it.”

“Okay,” I whisper, trusting he knows best.

He runs in the opposite direction of the gate, and thirty seconds later, I smell smoke. Did he start a fire? The guard and workers smell it too. After giving each other questioning looks, they leave the gate to investigate. I hear sirens in the distance and know it’s now or never.

I hold up the too-big sweats as I limp, trying to stay as hidden as possible until the last second. The gate is only feet away, but they must’ve been checking over their shoulder because I hear one of them yell out.

“Stop right there!” one barks.

“Stop, or I’ll shoot!” another shouts, the threat giving me pause. He wouldn’t really shoot, would he? I think it’d be obvious I’m not the one who shot the dock manager. Maybe they don’t care, though.

I push away the fear and horrible shooting pain in my ankle, forcing my legs to move faster.

I’m just outside the gate when I hear a pop .

Startled, I trip over nothing more than air and fall to the ground.

Damn it. Everything hurts, but I don’t have time to inspect the damage or feel sorry for myself.

Pushing up on my right knee, I drive my right foot into the ground to stand, but almost immediately, I’m back on the ground. Something is wrong.

The men gain on me as I try to stand again, this time pushing up with my left foot. I make it to my feet, but when I put pressure on my right foot, I collapse. The back of my leg feels hot, and after a quick inspection, I know why. I’ve been shot.

No, no, no.

A sob hits me in the chest, making me feel so fucking defeated.

Everyone has a breaking point, and apparently, this is mine.

It’s okay, though. If they’re busy with me, then Riot can get away.

I haven’t done anything wrong, and I’ll never give the Sons up, so all they’ll get from me is how I was taken by Bart.

I’ve accepted my fate when there’s an explosion like you see on TV. A huge black cloud billows from a hundred feet out, and it’s so intense, I feel the heat surround me like a wall. But the men are just close enough to where the blast wave knocks them off their feet.

Did Riot do that? Oh, god. Is he okay?

I get the answer seconds later when a dark figure comes sprinting right for me.

He scoops me into his arms, not worrying when I cry out.

There’s no time for that because the men are back on their feet and heading for us.

I knew Riot was strong, but how he manages to run this fast while carrying me, I’ll never know.

“Hold on. Almost there,” he pants.

Another pop sounds, and the window of the car we’re passing explodes.

I bury my face in Riot’s neck, whimpering from fear, pain, and shock.

The tink of bullets hitting the cars we pass fills me with so much anxiety, but I can’t think about that.

Riot and I have to make it out of this. We still have so much to experience together, and I refuse to think none of that will ever happen.

More gunshots sound, but this time, they’re coming from in front of us. I look up to see Rigger and Lucky firing at the men chasing us. A shout, followed by a thud, tells me at least one of them has been hit.

“Get in,” the young guy says, holding the side door of a van open.

“Take my bike,” Riot shouts, digging in his pocket and tossing him a key. “Don’t fuck her up.”

“Shit,” he curses, obviously not trusting himself.

Riot sets me on the middle bench seat of the van as the kid slams the door shut before he moves to the driver’s seat and cranks the engine.

My four new friends are in the back, and it’s like I’m seeing them for the first time.

I didn’t have the chance to really look when I was placed in the container or after we got out.

They’re beautiful girls, but the trauma is written all over them.

Physically, they look like hell, but it’s the vacancy in their eyes that tells me they’ll have to fight like hell to recover from this.

I have an idea of how to get them help, though I won’t say anything until I know for sure.

But if it falls through, I know the Sons will help figure out a place for them to go.

Rigger, Lucky, and the kid take off in all different directions. Riot obeys all laws as he drives us through the industrial area. Once gas stations and chain restaurants appear, he parks the van on the side of a Taco Bell and turns off the engine.

“Scoot,” he says, and I gingerly make room for him on the bench. “Let me see.”

I pull up the leg of the sweatpants, hissing. He pulls off his T-shirt, leaving him in only a ribbed tank, and uses it to dab away the blood. “It hurts like a bitch.”

I swear his lip twitches. “Two wounds. That’s good. Looks like it entered here and exited here.”

“It barely even went through me then.”

“I agree, but you still need to see a doctor. You all do.” He looks over his shoulder. “Can you all wait until we get back to Reno?”

“We can,” Louisa says, holding the hands of Thea and Anne.

“I’m okay.” I give him a tight smile.

“Okay. We need to wait for another vehicle. The cops will be looking for this one. It might take a bit, so get comfortable.” Riot moves to the other side of me and helps me to lie with my head in his lap. He inspects every bruise and cut he can find, his jaw ticking each time he finds a new one.

“I promise I’m okay.” I run my hand down his stubbly cheek.

He grabs it and kisses the inside of my wrist. “Just let me do what I need to do, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Tell me what happened.”

I go on to explain waking up in Bart’s house, his wife preparing me, and then my smart mouth pissing him off to the point of him losing control. He doesn’t look at me once, but his fingers pound a steady beat on the side of his leg, telling me his beautiful mind is processing it all.

“I hope those dock workers are okay. It’s not their fault. They thought they were helping.”

“I doubt they are. If they live through the explosion, they’ll suffer hearing loss, burns, and substantial wounds. Plus, I did shoot one of them.”

“We really need to work on your ability to lie.”

“If you didn’t want to know, why did you ask?”

“I was hoping you’d lie.”

He brushes some hair off my forehead. “You’re with the wrong man if you’re hoping for your feelings to be spared.”

“I know. It’s me who’ll need to adjust.” I close my eyes. “Are the girls okay?”

“Yeah. They’re asleep.” He bends down to kiss the tip of my nose. It’s so sweet, it makes my chest clench. “You should get some rest too. Someone’ll be here within the hour.”

“Okay. I’ll just close my eyes for a second.” I fall asleep within minutes, feeling safe and loved.