Page 23 of Risk (Mayhem Makers: MMM #3)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

McKenna

Isla and I have been indoctrinated into the club, the old ladies club specifically.

Isla isn’t with a member like Luna and Demi are but she and Hemi have danced around one another, and I have a feeling sometime in the future, those two are going to cause quite the explosion.

But she’s young so I hope he gives her the time she needs to mature and find her path before stepping up and claiming her.

Technically, I’m an old lady too, even though Risk and I have been apart for years now, so I don’t label myself in that category—it just doesn’t feel right to do so considering the circumstances, and I’m too afraid to ask him because I’m positive the answer will finish shattering what’s left of my heart.

I may have earned that title once upon a time, but it no longer feels relevant. Like Marshall did to my mom, I abandoned Risk so he has a right to rip away that brand.

It’s been two weeks since I was brought to the clubhouse and I haven’t seen Risk more than a handful of times.

He and the guys are out on the streets, gathering intel and evidence against Marshall.

I’m worried about them because there’s going to come a time when word on the streets gets back to him that there’s a group of men inquiring about him, and he’s not going to take that news well.

The older kids volunteered to watch the younger ones, even Luna and Kodiak’s precious son and my vivacious boy so us moms could take a mini break from the hustle and bustle of motherhood.

Now that I’m under the same roof as Phoenix twenty-four/seven, he’s been attached to me like a leech which hasn’t made it easy to get Risk alone so we can have a conversation.

But like always, his needs come before mine and since the shootout at Mom’s, he’s been having nightmares and has started peeing the bed during the night and having accidents during the daytime.

We’ve reverted back to using pull ups full time since he’s pedaled backward in his training.

At some point, Risk and I need to sit Phoenix down and tell him that Risk is his dad.

He’s never asked about this, but I know he has to be inquisitive about his father since his friends in his class all have one.

My boy is a go with the flow type of guy, so he doesn’t ask the same sort of questions that normal kids his age do by voicing his innate curiosity.

He shrugs it off and enjoys the love of those who’ve been an everyday part of his life.

“When are you and Risk going to sit Phoenix down and explain to him that Risk is his dad?” Demi asks, plucking the thought out from my mind.

“I was just thinking about that and the fact that it needs to happen sooner rather than later,” I admit. “I’m just not sure about the timing with everything going on with Marshall and then there’s the small detail that Risk actually needs to be around so we can do it.”

“You know that he’s not ignoring you, Kenna, right?” Luna questions, worry for me and how I’m feeling shimmering in her eyes.

“Logically, I do know that,” I reply.

“But emotionally, you don’t?” Isla asks for confirmation.

“It feels like when he is here he ignores me,” I confess. “After all the promises he made, it has me wondering.”

“Wondering what, McKenna?” Demi probes.

“If he was bullshitting me,” I whisper.

“The one thing I’ve learned about Risk, is that he doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean,” Demi professes. “He’s a man of few words most of the time, but when he talks, everyone listens.”

“A man of few words my ass,” I say, snorting. “He’s always been vocal.”

“Maybe with you he is,” Luna counters. “But with us, getting words out of him is like pulling teeth.”

“You mean it’s like hitting our heads against a brick wall,” Demi parries. “But he did tell me about you and what he did.”

“When?” I ask, my head jerking back as I await her answer.

“The day we saw you in the supercenter,” Demi answers. “You can’t hate him more than he hates himself for doing that.”

“Doing what?” Isla questions. “From my standpoint, he thinks the sun rises and sets around you. I can’t picture him doing anything to hurt you on purpose.”

“It wasn’t–” I stall, not knowing how to explain something to her that I’ve had a hard time understanding myself.

“It wasn’t what, Kenna?” she continues.

A huff of pent up air releases from my lips as I go back to that day and time. As I remember how it went down, I share it with them.

“Thank you, Elijah,” I tell my boss as he dismisses me early.

“You’re welcome, McKenna. We’re slow anyway, there’s no reason for us both to be here and be miserable. I saw the guys walk into the bar earlier, it’s not too late to go and join them.”

“They’re having a brother’s outing,” I laugh. “No women allowed and seeing as I’m the only woman outside of the club girls traveling with them, I took it that they meant me specifically.”

Just as I say that, my phone rings and Dave, the local bartender’s name flashes across my screen. I hold up my finger and walk away for some privacy as I take the call. “Dave?”

He grunts before saying, “Need you to come get your man and these other hooligans before they start a riot and end up in jail. Or do something more idiotic than that.”

“Do I want to know what that other thing could be?” I ask, laughing because the guys are known to paint the town and cause mayhem wherever they go.

“No. Just come get him, McKenna. There are only so many things I can save him from.”

That statement had my spine snapping straight. It wasn’t what he said per se that had me feeling like doom and gloom were on the horizon, it was the way his voice sounded when he said it. As if he was sad… for me.

“I’m on my way, Dave.” I hang up the phone, send a thumbs up to Elijah and grab my purse from behind the counter before scuttling out of the laundromat where I work.

Things become a blur of movement from there.

I watch my man, my husband walk with a busty blonde into a motel room, his lips vacuum sealed to hers as she pushes down on the door handle.

They fall into the room—all tangled limbs and I felt my heart drop into my stomach. “No,” I cry, clutching my chest.

I give them a few minutes while I sort myself out because if he’s really doing this, I want to catch him in the act itself.

My hope is that he’ll come to his senses and come running out of that room any minute now, but as the clock ticks by, that doesn’t happen and disappointment with him and what we mean to one another settles in my gut.

On numb legs, I make my way across the road and as my hand makes contact with the handle, moans greet my ears. “Fuck you, Risk. If you’re going to sow your oats you’re going to reap the rewards.” I say out loud, something my mom used to say to me whenever I’d do something that’d get me grounded.

Inhaling, I push the door inward and scream like a banshee has entered my body. Tears freely flowed down my cheeks as Risk bleats out my name as his head pops up and the look he sends me has me floored.

“That’s because in my drunken stupor, I thought it was you I was with that night,” Risk says, breaking into my memory.

“Dude! That’s not an excuse!” Isla screams. “How could you do that to her? She loved you, she still does, so this doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’ve asked myself that same question every damn minute since,” Risk explains before turning to me and asking, “Can we talk? Alone.”

Luna leans over and hugs me. “I think this talk needs to happen, McKenna. If nothing else, you both need closure.”

I nod my head and look up at him, saying, “Yeah. We can talk.”