Harm's Way: Riot MC Biloxi by Karen Renee (best life changing books .TXT) 📗

He returned the nod. “Think so, but if that changes, I’ll text you, so be sure to check your phone at the end of your shift.”

“Gotcha. I assume you’ve got a meeting or church to attend now, so if it’s all cool with you, I’m taking a long hot shower.”

He did a long blink to ignore visions of her naked in his bathroom. When he focused on her, he smiled. “Yeah. You’re good, baby. Text me before you leave, though, understood?”

She sighed. “Understood, though I think it’s overkill since he just visited Suze an hour ago.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Humor me, babe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

Before he made it a foot from the table, a memory hit him from her first visit to the clubhouse. “By the way. I got soap in the shower. But if you need something special, tell me now, so you don’t have to interrupt us later.”

Chapter 20 Less Than Upstanding

Har

“I SHOULD HAVE INSISTED everyone stick around last night. But by the time Layla spilled, not only were most of you gone, but Massive and Wreck were long gone.”

Tiny narrowed his eyes on Har. “You tellin’ us, Layla gave you information about our brothers? I don’t trust women, and I trust her the fuckin’ least. She’s had every one of our cocks in her mouth.”

Har clenched his teeth. “You’re right, but her oral skills aren’t the fuckin’ point, Tiny. She fessed up to Massive putting our product in the trunk of her car, and someone else was at Wreck’s who took it.”

“And that person would be?” Joules asked.

“She didn’t know them. Also, Wreck’s been seeing her sister on and off for the past two months.”

“Who gives a fuck?” Tiny asked.

“Considering her sister drives an Audi A3, I do.”

The shift in Tiny’s expression was subtle, but meaningful.

Har looked at Block. “You get a plate from last night’s footage?”

His lips pressed together and he shook his head. “Sorry, Har. The footage makes it clear it’s an A3, but the car fishtailed where we had a decent shot of the plates, which made it too blurry.”

He nodded. “If no one objects, we’re giving that footage to the Fire Department.”

Roman sat back in his chair, his eyes wide on Har. “You fuckin’ serious?”

Har nodded. “Bet your ass. Arson’s a serious crime, Roman.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, man, seein’ as I’m the resident fire starter. I just don’t like the idea of giving them access to our feeds.”

“Just be the single feed, Ro,” Block said.

Tiny crossed his arms on his bulky chest. “There a reason we’re hashing this shit out while Massive and Wreck are MIA?”

Har leaned forward. “Shouldn’t be hard to figure out man. You like being robbed? You want someone to steal from you? Because no two ways about it, they put that product in Layla’s vehicle, let some other asshole take it, and we haven’t seen any cash for it. They lied about being jumped by the Miscreants. If we’d have gone after them, it’d be on their turf, and who the fuck knows how many of us would’ve survived?”

Tiny turned his head and sighed.

“Now. They straggle their asses in, we’ll ask for their explanations, but I damn sure won’t trust it. Any of you want to hear Layla’s side of things, we can bring her in here, but after we’re done, she’s no longer welcome here or at any Riot event or chapter.”

Uneasy looks were exchanged and Har spoke. “One more thing. Who sponsored Carter as prospect?”

Tiny shook his head twice. “I did, Prez. Why do you ask?”

“According to Layla, the light-haired prospect is in on this shit. The only prospect who fits that bill is Carter.”

“Fuck,” Tiny hissed.

Brute was sitting next to Tiny. He clapped him on the shoulder. “You said it, brother.”

WRECK AND MASSIVE DIDN’T show up to the clubhouse all day. Even though both had day jobs, like most of the other brothers, Har knew that wasn’t what kept them away. He had no idea how he missed the signs of two brothers going bad.

He knew they wanted to stick with the drugs, but so did other brothers. Wracking his brain wasn’t giving him any answers, and he needed to focus on what he could control.

Losing two brothers this way could tear the entire chapter apart, though he knew he had eight brothers down with getting out of drugs. The only wild card was Tiny.

Stephanie had left while he was still in church. She would be done with work by seven, and glancing at his phone he saw it was after five-thirty. As he grabbed his keys from the dresser, he realized she never asked to get her jewelry box from his safe. He debated taking it out, but he knew it would be more secure there.

With a shake of his head, he decided to ride home. It wasn’t that far between his place and the clubhouse.

As the garage door opened twenty minutes later, the absence of Stephanie’s bike disappointed him even though he expected it. Her shift didn’t end for a while, but he’d grown accustomed to seeing her bike in his space.

He left his helmet on the bike and opened the door to the house while mashing the button to put down the garage door. Closing the door behind him, he knew something was wrong. A faint scent lingered in the air. The moment he realized it was a perfume Stephanie didn’t wear, an object hit him on his head and scraped along the side of his face.

“Fuck,” his hissed, going back on his right leg.

He heard a swooshing sound of the object coming back toward him and he ducked.

Rising, he planted his feet to throw a roundhouse toward the person wielding the object.

He connected, and his gut told him he hadn’t hit a man. In the dimness of the hall, he saw a knee coming his way. He dodged it. His right hand tagged the light switch. He saw Diana wince.

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