Page 34 of Riggs
Chapter Fourteen
Luna
Shuffling through Riggs' desk drawer, I find some paper and a pen. I scribble,What's going on?and slide the paper across the desk to Everest who is sitting across from me. I was dragged back here to Riggs' office fifteen minutes ago without an explanation as to why. I got the impression Neil, Riggs and Wicks' former commander was a friend, but the moment the man saw me, he began acting strange, and his actions became tense which set Riggs on edge. I'll admit Neil's odd behavior was making me uncomfortable as well. Reading what I wrote, Everest shrugs his shoulders and rubs his jaw.
"I can't say, but I'm sure Prez will be here soon, and you can ask him."
I sigh and slump back in the chair. Another few minutes pass with neither myself or Everest saying a word so I decide what the hell and figure I can try to get to know the man in front of me a little. He has after all been acting as a bodyguard of sorts. Wherever I go Everest is not far away unless I am with Riggs in his apartment. I've grown comfortable with his presence. Knowing I have someone watching over me when Riggs is not around is comforting.
Reaching across the desk, I retrieve the piece of paper I was writing on and write down the question I've been wanting to ask.What's your real name?
The man across from me reads what I wrote and grins. "My name is Kallum."
I take in Everest's appearance; he doesn't look like a Kallum at all. Everest has to be at least as tall as Riggs; only Everest is enormous. He's built like a linebacker and then some. He's a wall of muscle. Come to think of it; his nickname makes sense.I see why the guys call you Everest.I write, and he smiles.Are you from New Orleans?
Everest shakes his head. "No. I grew up in Minnesota." When he doesn't offer more. I decide not to pry into his past, and focus on the present.
Do you like being a part of the club?
"Hell yeah. I can't imagine being anywhere else. I'm treated like family here. I have a purpose."
I smile at him.I'm glad you have that. Everyone deserves a family.I scribble on the piece of paper.
"Yeah, darlin', they do," his face goes soft. I'm sure my past is no secret around here. The men here appear to be extremely close. They refer to themselves as brothers and I have no doubt they don't keep much from one another. It was the same way with The Kings back in Polson. Family is not always by blood. Some families are self made. Just as that thought comes to mind, Riggs comes striding into the room, his eyes immediately on me. I'll never tire of the way he looks at me with such intensity. Cutting his eyes to Everest, Riggs nods, and Everest takes his leave.
"Want to take a ride with me, beautiful?" Riggs asks.
"I'd go anywhere with you," I tell him truthfully.
Standing from the chair, I go to him. He takes my hand in his, and we walk out of his office, down the hall and past Josie and Fender who are sitting at the bar in the main room. Riggs and Fender acknowledge each other with a chin lift as we make our way out of the clubhouse. Instead of leading me to his bike, Riggs and I walk around the back of the clubhouse and to a big black truck parked under a large oak tree. Opening the passenger door, Riggs hoists me up and onto the seat. I go about buckling my seat belt as he strides around the front of the truck then climbs into the driver seat. "Is this your truck?" I ask.
"Yes. I don't drive it often, but we'll need it for where we are going."
"Where is that?"
Riggs grins. "You'll see."
Our first stop is a little hole in the wall Creole café, where we pick up some food to go. Fifteen minutes later we are driving down a dirt road until Riggs turns left and we are no longer on the road but driving through the brush. With nothing but trees and shrubbery surrounding us, I'm beginning to wonder exactly where he is taking me. After about a mile the trees clear and a lake appears in front of us. Riggs does a U-turn, shifts the truck into reverse and backs up right to the water's edge and puts the truck in park. I open the door to climb out, but Riggs is at my side in no time, helping me out. Before setting me on the ground, he kisses me. Once I'm let down, Riggs pulls open the back-passenger door, retrieving a blanket and our food. I follow him to the bed of the truck where he lets the tailgate down. Unfolding the blanket, Riggs spreads it out. He then picks me up and places me in the back. "I could have climbed in myself you know."
"I know, babe. But I like taking care of you." The look on his face is so sincere I don't have it in me to argue. Besides, it's nice being taken care of. "I'll be right back, baby. Let me grab some drinks." While Riggs goes to grab the cooler, I finally take in my surroundings. I'm in awe at how breathtaking the scenery is. The large lake is surrounded by dozens of Cypress Oak trees with hanging moss. The burnt orange sky complements the view as the sun begins to set. Riggs appears back in front of me carrying a cooler in one hand and two lanterns in the other. "It will be dark soon. So, these will be necessary out here," he says, coming to sit by me. We both remove our shoes, getting more comfortable.
Grabbing our food, I go about spreading the containers out, eager to see what Riggs got us. I open the first lid to find gumbo. "This smells amazing," I tell him. The next top I open has my stomach rumbling. "What's this?"
"That right there is the best cheesy grits and shrimp you'll ever put in your mouth," Riggs answers rubbing his hands together. If the smell is anything to go by, I'd say he's right. Riggs does the honors of flipping open the lid of the third container. "Last but not least, this is Mrs. Maggie's famous bread pudding. Best damn bread pudding in all New Orleans."
Without wasting time, the two of us dig into our meal. I moan when the first bite touches my tongueHoly shit. This is heaven.With every bite I take, I continue my appraisal of Riggs' little secret hideaway. "Do you come here often?" I inquire.
"At least once a month. Cain and I discovered this place when we were kids. You can't see it from here, but my grandad's house is just over that way about a mile beyond the brush," Riggs points to his right.
"This place is a dream. You are fortunate to have grown up here."
With the sun setting behind the bayou and the lighting bugs finding their way above the water, I lay back in the bed of the truck, close my eyes, breathe in the sweet scent of honeysuckle and try to imagine what sounds the little creatures around us would make. In all my twenty-two years of silence, I have never wished I could hear more than I have in the past week. If I were granted one wish, I'd want the chance to listen to Riggs' voice. I bet his voice is as smooth as whiskey, yet deep and gravelly. When I feel something touch my face, I open my eyes to Riggs running his knuckles along my cheek. "What are you thinking about, Mon Tresor?"
"I'm imagining what your voice would sound like, and how I want so much to hear it."
His face goes soft. "What do you imagine it sounds like?"
"Deep and gravelly, but smooth like whiskey."
