Calming the Riot Page 3
Vamp’s intense blue gaze slid to Frankie. “Babe, it’s crazy how much you two look alike. You’re not each other’s doppelgangers or anything, because she doesn’t have your green eyes, but Christ, it’s like one of you was separated at birth.”
Silence descended on the room at that proclamation, but that was when Liar noticed the music. The air was filled with electronic music that wasn’t exactly techno, or at least not as most people defined techno. It had a distinct chill-out vibe and a sound that would be better enhanced by a good high no matter what brought that high about. Acid, weed, shrooms, LSD, the music could only loosely be called music in his book but would undoubtedly enhance a stoner’s groove.
While Liar contemplated this, Vamp, also a music buff, spoke up. “What the hell are we listening to? It sounds modern, but it damn sure sounds like a seventies funk-ballad threw up alongside a laid-back track of the nineties.”
Jackie’s friend didn’t even give Vamp the benefit of her huge brown eyes. She closed them and shook her head at the remark, though the soft smile on her face cut into the negative effect. Liar had done his ever best to not take note of her when he entered. Occasionally his best wasn’t good enough, and he had to admit where this woman was concerned, he had failed. She had gone still when he and Razor entered the apartment. Liar was used to this because Razor was a fucking chick magnet. Even though Razor was over the moon for Neil, chicks still gravitated to him in droves. However, when Vamp asked about the music, Liar couldn’t help but slide his gaze to her. The song ended, and when the next song began, he noticed she wasn’t tense, she had gone as rigid as a statue. For some perverse reason, seeing her so affected pleased him.
CHAPTER THREE
Andrea
I really had to wonder how I found myself in this situation. Shortly after Jackie left my office last week, Frankie called and set her appointment with me for this afternoon. By the time we were done with her session, she went hot stone massage by the way - an excellent choice- even if I say so myself, she declared it was happy hour, and we should get drinks. This flew in the face of all of my post massage advisements. It was essential to drink water and stay hydrated after a deep massage. Of course, I told every client this, but I wasn’t so naive as to think they all listened to me. Before I could get into the specifics about why it was important with the stone massages to take extra care, she had Jackie on the line, and they didn’t get the ball rolling. Nope, they got a boulder rolling, and suddenly I had four women inside my tiny two-bedroom apartment.
It didn’t surprise me when Vamp started giving me a hard time about the song “I’ll Be There.” The fact was he hit the nail on the head. The official title included a parenthetical phrase “70’s Delight Version”. I loved my music in a big way, but I didn’t care for the extra and unwanted attention. It made me feel inadequate for some reason. I needed to get over it, and as a new song began, I watched Liar from the corner of my eye. While I watched him, I realized something about him. He was a very good looking guy — no! My best friend Janie’s soon-to-be ex-husband was a ‘guy.’ A dick and political type, but just a guy. Liar was a man, though and all man the likes I’ve never been able to attract. That was what made me so timid and uptight around him.
The music segued into “Barita” by VORTEX, and I went positively rigid. It was a song I played during sexy times with ex-lovers because it was a playful electronica song. It embodied everything sex should be - playful, light, intense, and rhythmic. But hearing it now, with these burly manly men….not the least of which was a man I desperately wanted to get my itchy mitts on, I was terribly uncomfortable. My attraction to Liar was baffling to me. I didn’t gravitate toward men I knew I could never have, and red-heads weren’t normally my preference, but there was something about him on the whole that called to me.
Neil interrupted my thoughts when she approached me for a hug. “Gotta go, Andrea. This was a lot of fun. We should definitely do this again.”
I nodded and watched as she was hooked around the neck by a very tall, dark and handsome biker who could only be Razor. That was when I noticed Liar lifted his chin at the rest of the men and he followed Razor and Neil out of my door. Yep. He was a man I would never have. Better to know that now than later. Volt and Jackie were the last to leave. I loved Volt for her for a ton of reasons, but tonight I lamented one of the top reasons. He was smart and perceptive, so little to nothing got past him. Unfortunately for me, he noticed my agitation.
“You doin’ okay, Andi? You’ve been uptight since I got here. Though you seem to be relaxing a little. You been around my brothers before, what’s different tonight?”
I shrugged and gave him a shy smile. “That was different. Being around Cal and Vamp at the clubhouse or your pool parties is not the same as having so many testosterone fueled men in my own home. It was just weird to me, that’s all.”
Jackie’s close-lipped smile was border-line smirking, and I could tell she was trying to keep her mouth closed. Volt threw her a meaningful look and then looked back to me. “I know somethin’ ain’t bein’ said. It must be female shit, so I’ll leave it alone. Andi, have a good night.”
Closing the door behind them, I sighed heavily with relief. Moving around my small living room, I cleared the glasses and replaced my potpourri dish on the coffee table. After a few relaxing yoga stretches, I prepared for bed and slept fitfully.
***
“C’mon, Andrea. We’re in a real bind here,” Shayla Kingman cried in my ear.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair forgetting I had it tied back in a messy bun. It bugged me when I did that, but I managed to pull my fingers free without pulling too much of my hair out in the process. “Shayla, I would love to help you and Paula out, but the last time I worked the Poker Room, I left with a damn stalker. Seriously, I don’t need to head back there and run into that man.”
“Paula said you would pull that,” Shayla muttered.
And these two wanted my help? I would not let her get to me, or at the least, I wouldn’t let it show. Calmly I said, “Check with Martin. Okay? Surely he’s had something similar to this happen before either on the poker room floor or the floor of the Kennel Club. I don’t know who would be at fault on this or if he’s got security to help me out. You need me, not the other way around, so if you can do me that favor, I’ll consider it.”
“Andrea—”
I cut her off. “I know the holidays are approaching quickly. So, the quicker you get word to Martin the sooner you’ll have an answer. Now, I’ve got a client who showed up early, so I’m gonna have to run. Talk to you soon.”
I hung up and blew out a breath. It was hard to say what I hated more, lying to people or feeling like those people were trying to take advantage of me. There was no client, at least not until four in the afternoon. My friend Janie was dropping by soon with sub sandwiches from Gibb’s. She had been through quite a bit the last few months, and it seemed I was one of the only people helping her to keep it together.
Faintly, I heard a car door slam in the parking lot. Moments later, my door swung open and Janie entered my lobby with a bag dangling from one of her fingers, a cardboard drink carrier in that same hand, and her designer shoulder bag in her other hand. I was stunned to see her wearing a bright fuchsia business suit with herringbone patterned tights and three-inch black heels.
“Uh, what’s with the business suit, girlie?”
The look she shot my way with her baby blue eyes told me I should know the answer, but she spoke anyway. “Fucking, fucking Trent. That’s what’s with the damn business suit. He is such a piece of work! Thank God I was able to use my hands-free on the ride over here, so my lawyer has all the info while it was fresh. I swear—”
I put my hands up, and then took the drinks from her before we had a spill. “No swearing. Say no more, I should’ve known Trent had something to do with all this. Sure I don’t need to ask this either, but was it something political that required you to dress to the nines?”
r /> She gave a low, disgusted, “Mmm,” in response.
I handed Janie her drink and popped a straw into mine. We tried to have lunch together at least once a week. After Janie handed me my sandwich, she gave me an expectant look. “So… I know it’s only October, but you know how my father is. He’s always looking at tax season. A girlfriend of mine, Justine is looking to start her own tax business on the side. He’s going to refer some clients her way. I know you like to support the little guys, so can I tell him you’re willing to be referred out?”
I swallowed a bite of my grilled veggie sub. “I suppose. As long as her rates aren’t higher than your dad’s.”
Janie threw a manicured hand out at me. “If anything, her rates might be lower, but definitely not higher. It’s supposed to be a side gig to help her supplement her ten-month income from the elementary school.”
“Gotcha,” I said as my cell rang. I looked down at the display and groaned.
Shoving the phone to the side, I leveled a look at Janie. “So, are you feeling okay these days?”
Janie shook her head at me. “No, no. You aren’t changing the subject. Rarely do I see you look so disgruntled. Who is harshing your mellow vibe?”
While Janie inhaled her pastrami sandwich, I recounted the request from Shayla to cover the poker room for chair massages during the holidays. As I finished telling her about Shayla and Paula’s dilemma, I added, “Have you told the divorce lawyer about this sandwich business? Seriously, the asshole is so damn controlling you’re practically sneaking your favorite sandwich during lunches with me.”
I loved Janie’s baby blue eyes, but right now they were full of ire. “Trust me, she’s aware. And I’m not sneaking them. I just don’t intend to fight that particular battle with Trent. But, speaking of sneaking, you’re trying to sneak a subject change on me. This massage circuit business is partly what has you rattled, but it seems like there’s a little something more to it.”
I swallowed some water. “You’re crazy. There’s nothing more to it.”
One of her auburn eyebrows arched at me. “How’s your love life, lady?”
“Probably as good as yours right now.”
Janie barked with laughter. “I doubt that. I’m just starting to feel normal after the miscarriage, but I’m not in the mood for any attention from Trent. So, no man in your life? Is that what has you off your normal mellow tone?”
I shook my head at her and grabbed her balled-up sandwich wrapper. “No. Late night last night, and I didn’t sleep well. No big deal.”
“So you had a date?”
“No. I had a girls night in—”
“And you didn’t call me?” Janie asked with a hand on her chest.
Shooting her a sympathetic smile, I said, “Believe me, there was no time. You know my friend Jackie, well she told a lady about me, and her old man sent one of his brothers by—”
“So, she’s part of the biker gang?”
“It’s a club, Janie, not a gang. Stop listening to your soon-to-be ex-husband! That stick’s shoved so far up his ass it seems to be touching his cerebellum.”
“Would explain many things I never realized about him before marriage,” she deadpanned.
“Anyway, he sent someone by to get a gift certificate for his woman, and she redeemed it yesterday afternoon. Afterward, she was quite pushy about cocktails and the next thing I knew, there were four women in my place plying me with wine.”
“‘Plying’ you, eh?”
I shrugged. “Whatever. Sorry I didn’t call you. Considering you obviously had an early morning political to-do with Trent, you probably couldn’t have made it anyway.”
“You’re right. I just like busting your chops. So, the guy who came by for the certificate, was he like the typical beer-bellied biker I see every now and then?”
I gave her a slightly narrowed gaze for a moment too long.
“What? I’m not trying to pass judgment. I’m just curious. Wait. He was hot, wasn’t he?” she asked.
I sighed. “He was so damn muscular, but he’s not my type.”
Janie crossed her arms. “Don’t you hold out on me, missy!”
“I’m not holding out on you. He’s not the least bit interested in me, and I’m not gonna see him again.”
“How would you know he’s not interested in you?”
“Trust me. Last night he looked at me like I was —”
“Whoa, whoa. You saw him last night?”
I pursed my lips and twisted them to the side. “Well, for whatever reason he came with some of the other bikers who were picking up Frankie, Jackie, and the rest.”
“So, he was in your place, and you don’t think he’s interested in you?”
“Janie, he didn’t say word one to me, and it seemed he was looking down his nose at everything in my place. He left at the first opportunity, and I’ll stress, he didn’t say a word to me. So, in a way you’re right. I don’t ‘think’ he’s not interested in me, I know he’s not interested in me.”
Liar
It’s a strange thing losing a parent at the age of five. Liar had no idea how his father carried on after losing his wife, but he did it. His father focused all of his efforts on work and raising Liar. Yet, Liar did not know a whole lot of ‘nurture.’ His father expressed his love with the words “be careful.”
Life ingrained a lesson into Liar at a tender age, and that meant he always expected the other shoe to drop. If things were going well, it was a matter of time before they went bad. When his father started ending their weekly calls with “Love you, son,” Liar knew something was up. He also knew his father wouldn’t tell him outright if Liar asked about it. Certainly not over the phone. There wasn’t enough time these days to drive all the way to Mississippi in order to find out what the hell was up with his father.
Liar pulled his phone from his back pocket and found the contact he needed and made the call.
“You finally up and breathing? Heard you got patched in and it was one helluva party,” his cousin greeted.
His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “I been up and breathing. It was a good party, but that ain’t why I’m calling.”
“What’s up?”
“You seen my dad lately?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Saw him not too long ago. Maybe two weeks ago. Why?”
“He okay?”
“Far’s I know,” Beast drawled.
Jim decided to come clean to his cousin. “Somethin’ ain’t right. He never says he loves me, and now he ends our weekly calls with ‘Love you, son.’ It doesn’t make sense.”
Beast chuckled. “Christ. When they gave you your patch, did they strip your dick?”
“Shut the fuck up. I’m—”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re serious. Always were and probably always will be. We ain’t gettin’ any younger, man. Your dad included. He probably wants to be sure you know he loves you. Now stop havin’ this Hallmark moment and tell me, how much pussy did you score at that party.”
It was a lot, but Liar didn’t kiss and tell…even with Beast. “Thanks for pullin’ my head out of my ass. How about you go find some pussy to tap rather than gossip with me about it?”
“Best idea you’ve had today. Later.”
He put the cell on his nightstand. It was nearly eight o’clock on a Tuesday night. Not much was happening in the clubhouse tonight, and normally that would suit Liar. His Aunt Joy had given him a love of books during his childhood, and it had stuck. Whiling hours away with a book relaxed him most nights, but Liar had struggled all day with thoughts of Andrea. He hadn’t known her name until Volt mentioned it at church. It was a pretty name, and it suited her. Thinking about how it suited her made him think of her in her apartment and the fact that his presence seemed to cause her distress. It was disconcerting that he enjoyed seeing her ill-at-ease. That was unusual for him because he didn’t like women to be uncomfortable.
***
Thursday afternoon, Liar
pulled his Harley into the Riot MC compound. He had just swung his left leg off his bike when his cell buzzed on his hip. The display indicated it was Beast calling him.
“Just spoke to your ass two days ago. What’s up?”
Beast sighed. “You talked to Grandmere lately?”
Liar stopped in the middle of the forecourt. “Come again?”
“She ain’t doin’ well. My Pop just told me, and I had to guess, that’s why your Dad’s gone to tellin’ you he loves you at the end of every conversation.”
Liar felt his stomach plummet. His dad didn’t share bad news on the phone, and news about his Gran’s health would be the same way. It made no damn sense to Liar why his dad operated that way, but it was how it always had been. “He tell you what’s wrong with her?” Liar asked.
“Cancer came back.”
“Fuck,” Liar hissed. His Gran was in her eighties, but when he saw her nine months ago in early January, she was a sprightly as ever. She had fought breast cancer eight years ago and had been in remission for the past six years.
“Yeah. Not to change the subject, but I’m comin’ to Jax tomorrow. Been wantin’ to transfer over there, and with this news, it just solidifies it. Better to be a four-hour drive from Gran than the eight or so it is from Biloxi.”
Liar ran a hand through his close cropped hair. “You gonna drive down to see her?”
Beast sighed. “I want to, but until the mother chapter approves my transfer, I’m not sure I’ll get down there. Besides, she doesn’t know I know yet.”
“You didn’t call her?”
“And listen to her deny it all? No way. I want to see her with my own two eyes.”
Liar chuckled. “You could be standin’ right in front of that woman while she was in pain and she’d still tell you she felt fine.”
“Mmm, maybe so, but still. Rather see her in person.”
“I’m gonna give her a call.”
Now Beast chuckled. “Well, you damn well better hurry up. It’s nearly six o’clock here, and she’ll ream your ass if you keep her from watching Wheel of Fortune.”