Page 112 of Riot

“She knows what she knows, she’s doing it out of love, in her own way.”

My heart breaks. Is he saying this because his mom died and he doesn’t want to see a rift between me and my mom that can’t be repaired? I get that, but at the same token, my parents wanted to marry me off. They didn’t care about my happiness or the fact that Ian was an absolute masochist and sexist pig. That’s an insult to pigs, actually. Riot just sees the good in everyone, even women like my mom who don’t have a kind bone in their body.

“I’ll try to see if from your point, but she makes it difficult,” I whisper.

He kisses me on the forehead. “You’re beautiful.”

“Says the boy with the pretty eyes.”

“Don’t wanna keep Mama Bear waitin’.” His eyebrows jiggle.

I smile. “Back soon.”

I bend to pat Cookie. He’s been an absolute angel, sitting down like a good boy and not making a peep. I wouldn’t care if he barked the house down, but the fact he’s being so good makes my heart squeeze that much tighter.

When I make my way down the hallway, I’m surprised when I see Dad sitting up in bed, his pajamas on and the TV playing low. He looks a little pale, but nothing like what I imagined.

“Dad,” I say as I edge in the doorway.

He looks up from his paper. “Lourdes?” Of course, Dad rarely ever calls me by my preferred name. Apparently I had a perfectly good name given to me at birth, and that’s the one I should use.

I fold into his arms. “How are you feeling?”

He nods as I break away. “Better, thank you. Mom said you’ve been keeping well.”

“I texted to see how you were…”

“You know I’m not one for technology.”

Despite my dad’s success in business, he really does hate cell phones.

I sit on the edge of the bed. “So, what did the doctor say?”

“I had an angina attack.” He waves it off. “It’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“Now, we know that isn’t true,” Mom starts, but Dad waves her off.

“I’ve been given the all clear for now. We’re going to monitor it with drugs, and if that doesn’t work, then maybe surgery.”

My hand flies up to my mouth. “Dad! This is serious!” I turn to glance at Mom. I should’ve come sooner but Mom played it down. “I had no idea.”

“I didn’t want you to worry.” He sounds so sincere, it’s almost enough to make me forget what he’s done. And then I remember Riot’s words. I have to try to be the bigger person. I’m better than that.

“I missed you, Dad.” I can’t help the tears. “I’m sorry.”

I hear my mom slip out of the room and Dad pats me on the shoulder. “It’s okay, my little Lourdes. As long as you’re home, that’s all that matters.”

22

RIOT

I’m playingon my phone when I hear someone approaching. Cookie, who’s laying by my feet, lifts his head. Oh, great, it’s the wicked witch.

I really don’t like this woman, but I have to play the game. She looked her own daughter up and down like she was some kind of stain on her pristine pants, and that just pisses me off. Still, I can’t be rude to her no matter what happens, especially in her own home. I’m sure that’s exactly what she wants so she can prove to Halo that I’m a bad guy. I mean, I’m a biker after all.

Still, I meant what I said. Her mom, in her own round-about way, does care for her daughter to be this concerned about her welfare. It could just be a control thing, but I don’t know her enough to judge that. She’s just not going the right way about it, and if she doesn’t fix things fast, Halo may be gone from her life forever.

I stand as she approaches. I feel out of place on this massive leather cream couch. The rugs here look like they were imported from Persia, not to mention the massive high ceilings and grand furnishings with thick velvet curtains that frame the room. I wasn’t far off with my J.R. Ewing comment.