Page 27 of Riot

I wiggle my fingers at him. “I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

“You should be. The woman packs knives up her damn sleeves.”

“I’m sure you’re not complainin’.”

“I am when they’re aimed at my dick.”

“So, what’s the story? Is Star gonna be tryin’ out for a prospect position?” I smirk.

Nevada chuckles. “While I like the idea, I doubt Star is gonna start takin’ orders from any one of us.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, have you even thought this through?”

“Thought what through? The minute I laid eyes on her, I knew she was the one.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “The fuck boy finally grows up.”

“Gotta settle down some time. Can’t go on bein’ a bachelor forever.”

I shake my head. “Unbelievable. I don’t think the club’s given you enough shit yet about the fact she’s older than you.”

“It’s six years, asswipe.”

“Still. Never struck you for bein’ into cougars.”

“I wasn’t until I met her.”

Star opens the door and we snap our mouths shut. “Ready to go?” she asks.

“You packed those knives?” I smirk.

She pats herself down. “Everywhere I can hold a weapon, I did.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Not sure I wanna know.”

“It’ll be over soon,” Nevada tells her. I’ve never seen him like this. So serious. Nevada is the life of the party, always quick with a dumb joke or a witty insult, but this side of him is something new. “I promise.”

She nods. I can see the fear in her eyes, and I can’t say I blame her. I’ve been in a situation where I’ve seen my own sister with a gunshot wound. Not knowing, like what Star’s going through, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

I see Brew and Haze stepping out from their room, ready to meet with the rest of the boys from NOLA Rebels who havecome over to support the cause. We all want this to be over so we can go back to living a normal life again in New Orleans. Lately, we haven't had a whole lot of peace within the club.

I turn my head. “Let’s head out.”

Nothing like climbing onto the roof of an old shed, without knowing if the metal beneath me is structurally sound, to get the adrenaline pumping. As if the two MCs surrounding this old pig farm aren’t enough of a rush already, the rifle slung over my shoulder reminds me that I’m very much alive and well.

I thought it would be weird being back here again; climbing a roof just like the good old days, but strangely, I feel calm. I mean, I was always pretty calm because nobody needs a sniper with a shaky finger, right? And this way I get to let out all the pent-up frustration on bad people who don’t deserve jail time. The things these monsters do to these women, some of them children, is downright diabolical.

“I’m really gettin’ too old for this shit,” I mutter to myself as I shimmy across the roof, staying low.

I find the perfect place where I have a clear view of the meeting area, and if it changes, we’ve always got plenty of heavies on the ground that’ll go into battle. I’ve been instructed by Bane Adler, the MC Prez for the Ridgehaven Hellions, that I’m to keep Monty Jefferson — the businessman and the leader of this diabolical syndicate — alive. That’s no fun. It doesn’t mean I can’t take out some of Jefferson’s heavies in the meantime, but it would be a pleasure to put a bullet in his brain.

I feel my phone ring in my back pocket as I lay down, ready to set up. It’s Halo. I smile to myself as I answer.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” My voice is low as I hold my phone to my shoulder so I can put everything together as I talk.

“Riot. I’m worried about you, all of you.”

This is just like her. She’s sweet as honey. “There’s nothin’ to be worried about.” Granted, she doesn’t know I’m up on a roof with a sniper rifle, and frankly I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want to scare the woman to death before we’ve even had our first date. “Just as long as you stay where you are and don’t try to come over here. Promise me you won’t.”

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