Calming the Riot Read online

  Jeff barked with laughter. “No. I’m sure the wife would love to get another massage out of me, but no. I need you to help out my mojo and rub my neck. Same rates as Paula?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said and got to work.

  The poker tables were funny to me. Funny in a strange way, not so much a comical way, because no sooner had I started working the tension out of Jeff’s neck and shoulders than he started winning. He must have dragged in three pots before I was done with him. If you watched ESPN and other poker shows out there, you would think that the good players were number crunching sharks who were biding their time to take you down. Apparently, that was not the case in the Best Bet Orange Park location. I was rubbing my hands together with hand sanitizer and ready to make my way to another table when the man catty-corner from Jeff lifted his chin at me dramatically.

  I looked at him, and he spoke. “I’m next,” he demanded.

  I didn’t care for demanding people most of the time, but one chair massage was pretty much the same as the next chair massage.

  Just over two hours later, Shayla had taken her supplies down to her vehicle. There were still at least seven tables going strong, but the requests for massages were scarce. Grabbing my bag, I went downstairs looking for Vamp, Rage or Cal.

  The Best Bet used to be a Kennel club only, and the late Sixties construction belied this. The main walkway from the lower level out to the parking lot had a huge overhang that was lit with criminally bright florescent lights. I was three feet into the walkway when Mr. Allen turned and put his hand on my forearm.

  “I’m so glad I was able to catch you, Andrea.”

  Couldn’t say I felt the same way, but I kept that to myself. I smiled and said, “Catch me you did. Is something wrong, Mr. Allen?”

  Mr. Allen hesitated before answering, but I wasn’t watching his face. I was busy scanning the parking lot for motorcycles. Any motorcycles would be good at that junction as far as I was concerned, but none were there to be seen.

  His hand on my arm pulled me closer to him, and I was forced to pay more attention to him. “That man, Jeff, who called you over after you spoke to me, he’s quite funny, isn’t he?”

  I twisted my head so that I was giving him a mild side-eye, and reluctantly said, “I suppose. What are you getting at?”

  “He was funny. Nothing like the man your boyfriend shoved out of the building. Somehow, he did all of that without drawing the first bit of attention from security. But then I realized it was once again the Riot MC and their extensive connections.”

  A shiver stole up my spine. The tone of his voice changed when he said, ‘Riot MC,’ and I knew it was not a good sign.

  “What is your problem?” I asked, my voice a blend of a hiss and a whisper.

  His face lit with a grin that anyone could see was maniacal. “Well. Isn’t that the million dollar question. Problem is, Andi, I don’t have just any one problem, I have several. Lucky for me, you seem to be the key to at least two or three of my problems.”

  He said all of this leaning into me bodily, and his hand was still on my forearm. I desperately wanted to wrench my arm away from his grip, but instinctively I knew that was a bad idea. After a deep breath that did nothing to calm me, I said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  The maniacal but ugly grin turned devious. “That’s quite all right. All you have to do is follow my instructions.”

  None of this was making any sense to me, but I could hear the roar of Harley engines in the distance. Relief coursed up my spine and made me braver.

  “I don’t think so. My boyfriend and his—”

  “Your boyfriend doesn’t know shit,” Mr. Allen snapped.

  My eyes went wide, and I had to fight to keep my mouth from falling open. As it was, I knew my lips were parted.

  “Now, like I said. Follow my instructions. Laugh, and if your airhead brain can’t manage that, smile like you mean it, Andrea Paglia.”

  Well, shit. I didn’t know this man knew my last name. I had to wonder what else he knew about me, but his fingers squeezed in a way they were biting into my skin, so I forced a nervous and fake smile onto my face.

  To my extreme dismay, he then leaned in and kissed each of my cheeks in turn. “Keep smiling, Ms. Paglia.” He looked over my shoulder, and the engines of the bikes were louder. “My work here is done.”

  I walked to the end of the overhang and saw three bikes idling. Vamp was astride his bike, a behemoth of a man I had never seen before was idling on the outside of Vamp, and Liar was closest to me with a face like thunder. Dread pooled in my stomach, and somehow, I knew, Mr. Allen had just played me.

  Liar

  Liar yearned to roar off and never see Andrea again. Of all the ways for shit to go bad, this never entered his mind. She approached him and fear was written all over her face. Good. She needed to be scared right now because he was royally fuckin’ pissed.

  “Can’t believe you broke my trust. Clearly, you’re a Grade-A fuckin’ liar,” he said when she was close enough.

  “What in the universe are you talking about? I haven’t lied. I don’t know what Mr. Allen was doing just now, but I really—”

  “Save it,” he yelled. Mr. Allen, that was fucking rich. Yes, some people in the South would refer to people as “Mr.” or “Mrs.” and then their first names, but no way would Leventon allow himself to be called by that.

  Liar was ready to go, but he had to get this shit off his chest. “I asked you if you met Leventon. My brothers asked you if you met Leventon. I told you to stay the fuck away from that asshole, and he’s kissin’ your fuckin’ cheeks like you’re a friend. Wouldn’t surprise me if you were in on the fuckin’ shit bein’ pulled on me.”

  Andrea looked confused, but Liar realized she wasn’t just a liar, but also a fuckin’ actress. She was opening her mouth to defend herself, but he made sure he spoke first. “Mark my words, bitch. I don’t ever want to see your sorry ass again.”

  Liar didn’t give a shit about keeping formation with his brothers. He burned rubber through the parking lot and made his way to the interstate.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Andrea

  Tears of anger, frustration and heartbreak were stinging my nose, but I would be damned if I let Vamp and this other man see me break. Vamp’s nearly sapphire blue eyes looked at me with anger and disappointment shining through clear as day. He shot a look at Liar roaring out of the parking lot and followed suit. I didn’t know why, but his disappointment hurt almost as much as Liar yelling at me. I was thinking that was weird until it dawned on me that I had not only fallen for Liar, but I had fallen for all of his brothers in a brotherly love sort of way. The sting in my nose intensified and I felt the tears well up in my eyes at that realization.

  My focus on not breaking was interrupted by the sudden shutting down of a motorcycle engine. I looked up to see Liar’s very large brother dismounting his bike. He trudged over to me and looked me up and down. There was a name patch on his cut which read, “Roll.” His chocolate brown hair was parted down the middle and hung around his head like a curtain. He had a well-groomed but thick goatee framing his lips. His eyes were hard on me, but I could tell there was something different about him. He wasn’t passing judgment on me just yet. After another beat of silence, he spoke.

  “Somethin’ about this ain’t right to me. That Leventon’s a damn slimy bastard and wily.”

  He was dead right about the slimy. I didn’t know enough about the man to confirm him being wily, but if his earlier display was any indicator, then Roll had summed the man right up.

  The sting was ebbing from my nose, and even though I cleared my throat, my voice was still a croak. “I swear I was introduced to him as Mr. Allen. I didn’t lie.”

  I put my fingers up to my eyes and dabbed my tears away so I wouldn’t have mascara running down my face. The hardness in Roll’s eyes softened, and an expression crossed his face like he approved of me.

  “All right. We ain’t
met yet, but I’m Roll. Heard you got issues and you caught a ride here. That right?”

  I nodded.

  His chin dipped low at me. “Since Liar roared off, how you plannin’ on gettin’ home?”

  I shrugged. Shayla had left ten minutes before I did, and how I was going to get home wasn’t my primary concern until he mentioned it.

  “Well. Tell me your address. I’ll get you there, and I’ll even do my level best to go slow enough you don’t have to hang on too tight.”

  ***

  By the time I had my eye makeup off, put my pajamas on, and crawled into bed it was a quarter to one in the morning. I desperately needed a friend, but I couldn’t possibly call either Jackie or Janie at such an hour. As angry as Liar had been and even as angry as Vamp had been, I had to imagine Volt would be apprised of the situation soon enough. However, I knew Janie kept her phone on silent at night but checked her texts first thing in the morning. I sent her a text telling her to call me as soon as possible.

  I turned on my side on the bed, hugged a pillow to my chest and let the tears flow. Liar’s words and the vicious tone of voice he used were playing in my head on a loop. It was horrible, and I had no idea how to get it out of my mind. For once, I had a better appreciation of clients who argued about reducing stress in their lives. It simply wasn’t that easy.

  Laying there with the lamp still shining on my nightstand, I was certain sleep would not happen for me. I jolted awake when my cell phone chirped with an incoming text. Then it rang immediately after.

  “Hello,” I said thickly.

  “Honey,” Janie said. “I’m parked in your lot. Can I come up?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered. Then asked, “What time is it?”

  “Quarter to six. Trent had a marathon or half marathon to run today. He’ll be hobnobbing after. Besides, your text made it clear you’re in a state.”

  As she spoke, I could hear her car door slam, and her moving up the stairs. I hustled out of bed and opened the front door for her.

  I disconnected the call, and she pulled me into a hug. When we broke, she gently demanded, “Tell me about it, Andi.”

  The stinging in my nose started again. “I don’t want to do that to you.”

  Janie’s thin lips pouted at me, but the expression was there and gone. “Don’t you give me that. Don’t you dare give me that. Apparently, I have to remind you that it was you who came to my house and laid in my bed with me after my miscarriage. And it was you who played that fabulous song by Michael Franti and said it was our anthem for the day. Well, by God it’s our anthem today too. ‘Nobody Cries Alone,’ babe. Not me, and damn sure not you.”

  I started crying in earnest and saw that Janie was crying too, and for some perverse reason, I chuckled. “We’re a sad, pathetic pair, you know that.”

  “The hell we are,” Janie argued. “We’re gonna get it all out and then we’re gonna get the fuck on with shit.”

  “Who are you?” I asked with a sniffle.

  “Your bestie, that’s who. Now, spill it.”

  We sat on the futon, and I gave her the sad and infuriating story of this morning. When I was finished, Janie crossed her arms on her chest. “He’s an asshole.”

  I wanted to chuckle at that, but then I realized I didn’t know who she was calling an asshole.

  “Who? Liar or Mr. Leventon?”

  Janie arched an eyebrow as though it hadn’t occurred to her that her statement could be misinterpreted. “Well, I suppose both. And even that Vamp guy. But Roll, now I think I like him. Even if Trixie doesn’t.”

  What was there not to like about Roll? He had been pretty nice to me. “Wait a minute. How do you know Trixie doesn’t?”

  Janie threw a hand out at me. “She and I chatted in the parking lot after the baby shower. He’s the reason she’s moving on.”

  My head tilted as I pondered how hard that might be, but my stomach growled loudly. Janie pinned a look at me. “I don’t care if you don’t feel like eating, clearly your stomach wants you to. We’re ordering Panera to be delivered. Your tree-hugging ways be damned.”

  “Janie!”

  “What? If ever there was a time to ditch the eco-friendliness, it’s when your heart’s been shattered by a man being a supreme jerk.”

  By the time breakfast had arrived, we had moved on from listening to Michael Franti. Janie had cued up my ‘good vibes’ playlist. It was loaded with songs that were positive and put me in a good mood. I had found the most bizarre song a few weeks back, where Jon D. Boswell had taken recordings of various PBS stars and turned their phrases into Electronica songs. There was one for Reading Rainbow, Julia Child, two songs based on things Mister Rogers was famous for saying. But the only song I downloaded was the song “Bob Ross Remixed: This is Your World.”

  One of my regular clients always said Bob Ross was like the Xanax of television. I laughed at that, but it was funny because it was true. It was a fabulous song, but apparently it wasn’t drawing out the good vibes for me today. Bob’s voice said, “…make love to the canvas” and my mind filled with visions of Liar because his body was like a canvas to me. My tears flowed in earnest, and I hiccupped with a sob. This song that encouraged good thoughts to your heart was not bringing me any today, whatsoever. Suddenly, the song ended.

  “Honey. Bob Ross should not be bringing on wracking sobs.”

  “I love him,” I whispered.

  Janie’s lips thinned, and she looked at a spot on the wall above my head. Then she looked me in the eyes. “I’m not gonna lie to you. I see him, and I’m scratching his eyes out for you.”

  “Don’t do that,” I chided.

  “Why wouldn’t I? He called you a liar and didn’t even let you get a word in edgewise. The only one who showed any decency was Roll. That’s not how things are supposed to work, Andi.”

  She was right. He said I broke his trust, but this whole debacle said loud and clear he didn’t trust me, and he never had.

  At eight in the morning, I contacted all of my Saturday appointments and canceled. I never did that, but I claimed having the flu. I sounded rough and stuffy enough that they all bought the white lie because seriously, nobody wanted to be sick with Christmas approaching. The rest of the day, Janie and I hung out in my living room binge watching my James Bond flicks.

  “Don’t you have to get back to Trent?”

  “Did you not listen to Michael Franti’s latest album? There’s a song titled ‘When the Sun Begins to Shine.’ The sun isn’t shining for you today, and we’re in this together. I lost my baby, and the rat-bastard didn’t give one fuck. I don’t care if he’s bent out of shape because I’m not in his country club home cooking dinner. He can eat at the fucking country club for once. Hell, we pay, he might as well use the damn service provided. You’re hurting, and I’m helping.”

  Liar

  Liar rolled his bike to a stop behind the clubhouse and cut the engine. The mid-morning sun was entirely too fuckin’ bright, and it was pissing him off. Everything was pissing him off, truth be told. Sometimes it sucked to be right, but as he suspected the proverbial ‘other shoe’ had dropped on his life. The only good woman who loved him had died, and now the woman he thought was good had been a definite mistake. Life always snatched away his shot at women. In his exhausted mind, he wondered if that was how women became known as “snatch?”

  He walked around to the front of the clubhouse and went into the common room. Beast was on a couch making out with Laura.

  A pop song called “There’s Nothin’ Holdin’ Me Back,” was blaring from the sound system. Everything about the damn song annoyed the hell out of him because it reminded him of Andrea, and that would not do right then. He stormed to the amplifier and switched the song to Godsmack’s “Voodoo.”

  He heard Laura yell a whiny, “Hey!”

  His back was to them both, but he responded by flicking her off. Leaning over the bar, he grabbed the neck of a bottle of Glenlivet and drank straight from the bottle.

&nb
sp; “Fuck, man! The rest of us don’t want your damn backwash in the good Scotch,” Beast yelled.

  Liar turned an angry glare to his cousin. “This bottle’s gonna be gone by noon, asshole,” he yelled back.

  Beast set Laura aside, and she again yelled a whiny, “Hey!”

  Once he sidled up to Liar, Beast asked, “What the fuck crawled up your ass and stung your shit?”

  Liar gave him a side eye, shook his head, and said, “Doesn’t fuckin’ matter.”

  He could feel his cousin glaring at him. “Know this ain’t about Gran. Your chick—”

  Before Beast could finish, Roll interrupted as he settled in on Liar’s other side. “Somethin’ ain’t right about this shit. Tell you what I told your girl, Leventon’s wily and slimy.”

  Liar shot him a dirty look. “He kissed her fuckin’ cheeks. She sat in this clubhouse and told me, Blood and others she’s never met the fucker and last night he’s kissin’ her fuckin’ cheeks? No. No way I trust that shit, and I don’t care if it’s some ploy of Leventon’s or not. She lied.”

  Roll crossed his arms on his massive chest. “You didn’t even let her speak, dumbass.”

  Liar straightened at the insult. “It doesn’t fuckin’ matter. I don’t deal with lying bitches.”

  The door opened, but Liar was laser focused on Roll. Besides, he assumed it was Laura leaving since Beast wasn’t paying her any attention, so he was surprised as fuck to hear Volt’s voice boom behind them.

  “Brother’s you need to stand down. That’s an order.”

  Liar turned away from Roll and glared at Volt. He broke their eye contact and downed another slug of scotch.

  “This shit’s serious. I heard from Roll and Vamp. We’re holdin’ church in an hour. Don’t show up drunk, Liar. Not only will we fine your ass, I might have Cal give you a beating if you do.”

  With his Gran passing away last week, Liar hadn’t hit the gym with as much frequency, and he hadn’t pushed himself very hard when he had. He was in no shape to square off against Cal. Still, he nabbed the bottle and went to his room. He put the bottle on his nightstand, set an alarm for fifty-five minutes later, and he kicked off his motorcycle boots to take a power-nap.