Page 61 of Riot’s Thorn (Sons of Erebus: Reno, NV #4)

She pulls away from me, her eyes narrowed. “Were you teasing me?”

“No, I’m being so for real right now.”

“Oh, my god. You are teasing me.” She grins. “I didn’t even know you knew how.”

Neither did I, but I don’t admit that. “Fine. I’ll go get them, but promise you’ll stay in bed.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it. Satyr can tap into these cameras, and if he tells me you went anywhere in this house other than the bathroom, I swear to God, I will strap you with my belt until you can’t sit for a week.” I kiss her temple. “Once you’re healed, of course.”

“Of course,” she sasses.

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

I make sure she has bottles of water, plus a can of the fancy sparkling shit she likes and a bunch of snacks before I give her a kiss and head out.

I feel proud of myself for the way I’m taking care of her.

Paying attention to someone else’s needs and trying to predict what they’ll require is fucking hard.

It takes a lot of focus not to get caught up in my own head.

Speaking of thinking about her, on my way to the clubhouse, I call Satyr to keep an eye out because I wasn’t kidding. She’ll regret it if she doesn’t keep her butt in bed.

Driving a cage feels all kinds of wrong, but thankfully, one of the prospects delivered her car to the cabin yesterday, so I can leave this piece of shit at the clubhouse and ride my bike back, knowing I have a way to get her around until she’s healed.

Besides, her new car is actually pretty sweet, and I wouldn’t mind driving it sometimes.

When I pull up to the clubhouse, I’m pleased to see the parking lot is clear of the construction material stored out here for weeks. That means it’s finally all inside the cabin. I’m excited to see the progress as I jog around back.

I nearly choke on my own spit as I take it in.

Last time I was here, the front looked exactly the same.

It wasn’t until you walked around back that you saw the additions and felt like change was being made.

But now, the front looks nothing like it used to.

Bigger windows have been carved out, cedar shingle siding is framed by black trim, and the new green door with three-by-three floating panels of built-in glass has been hung.

The porch and railing are new, and two outdoor rocking club chairs are waiting for Parker and me to enjoy, thanks to Navy’s input.

The only reason I ever hung out on the porch before was for a smoke, but now, I might like to sit and catch up with Parker at the end of the day.

Am I the kind of person to do mundane shit like that? I don’t know.

I dodge the workers as I do a walkthrough, making note of things that still need to be done, but most of them are small details. Lucky said the aesthetic shit goes fast; I didn’t think he meant this fast.

“You said you weren’t a construction worker,” I say to the man who’s on all fours in my kitchen.

He’s slow to stand, taking some time to straighten. “I’m too old for this shit. Even with the knee pads, laying down flooring is painful.” He uses my shoulder to hold himself up. “How does Tinleigh do it?”

“I don’t follow,” I say, shrugging him off.

“She’s on her knees for me every night, sometimes for an hour or more.” He sounds dumbfounded. “I thought it was just her jaw that had to work hard, but damn. I definitely owe her an hour of clit licking at least.”

“You’re fucking stupid.”

“That’s no way to talk to the man who managed to get all this done in record time, is it?”

It might not be anything special to anyone else, but this place was a strong wind away from blowing down before.

Now, it has dark, knotty wood flooring, exposed beams, and pewter green walls with black trim.

The kitchen cabinets are shiny black with a green and white backsplash and a dark wood island.

I was worried all the dark colors would be too much for Parker, but with all the added windows, it doesn’t feel closed in.

Navy and Tinleigh came up with all the design shit, trying to find a balance between both our personalities to give the house one of its own. I don’t know how a house has a personality, but I guess now that I see it, I can kind of understand.

“Go check out the bathroom. I’m kinda pissed at you because now Tinleigh wants to remodel,” he says, lowering back to his knees and cursing the whole way.

I make my way through the living room and down the hall to our new bathroom. “Damn.”

“Fucking insane, huh?” Mustang asks with a paintbrush in his hand.

The walls are the same green color, but there’s a new white double vanity that looks like an antique piece of furniture.

An intricate silver frame surrounds a lighted mirror I know Parker will appreciate.

I appreciate the huge ass shower. There’s a rainfall head and a regular one, inset shelves to hold all Parker’s girly shit, and a bench that’s the perfect height for me to shave her to my liking right before she rides my cock.

Fuck, I can’t wait for her to see it.

“Thanks, brother,” I say.

“Don’t mention it.” He sets the paintbrush down. “Hey, this is so fucking awkward, but Jenson mentioned after that barbecue Parker was at, maybe we don’t make time to get to know you and shit. It made me realize?—”

“Do you like the color in here?” It was an awkward as fuck change of topic, but I can’t talk about this with him. It’s uncomfortable and unnecessary.

“Yeah.” He smiles, thankfully not calling me on it. “You did good with the bedroom too. Jenson and I took a look yesterday. She’ll love it.”

“Hope so.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder. “I gotta grab my rats and get back to her.”

“She doing okay?”

“Parker? Yeah, she’s healing up. Hoping to move in next week, but I’ll be back to help finish up this weekend,” I say, making sure he knows I’m not leaving it all up to them.

“Do what you gotta do. Just get her back here healthy and happy.”

“Why?” I ask—she’s mine and he’s gay. Why does he care?

“She’s good for you, and we want you to be happy. Plus, Jenson likes not being the only filthy rich one around here.”

“Oh. Okay.”

After putting Ben and Amy in their travel bag and packing some essentials, I secure them to my bike, and for the first time I can remember, I don’t feel the need to decompress from social interaction with my brothers.

That’s not to say I won’t need it in the future, but it’s nice not to always need it.

Maybe sometimes, I can just be okay now they’ve been making an effort to not keep me at a distance.

I’ll always be me, the one with crazy eyes who never smiles and would rather torture someone than put a bullet in their head, but I don’t feel like I’m feared by my own brothers anymore.

Renovating this place forced us to spend more time together than we normally would and gave us something to bond over or some shit.

It’s dumb that a man like me, who willingly walks into what others would think of as scary situations all the goddamn time, is fucking terrified of change. Or maybe it’s more the loss of control. But whatever it was, I never felt safe to allow it to happen until Parker.

Makes me wonder what else that little thorn in my side has in store for our future.