Page 14 of Riot's Thorn
“You need a plan,” Killer says, pushing past me and walking inside.
“I’m trying to be nice here, but if you don’t go the fuck away, I won’t be held accountable for what I do.” I turn but stay in the doorway, giving Rigger the opportunity to come in too.
“Where is she?” Killer looks around.
“None of your goddamned business. Now please fuckin’ leave.” My patience is growing thin, and I don’t like how close they are to her. I’m the one who saved her, so I’m the one who gets to decide what happens to her.
“You need a plan, brother,” Rigger says, plopping down on my sofa as if this is a social call.
After inspecting my kitchen, Killer opens my fridge and pulls out a beer, not asking before cracking it open. “He’s right. I know you’re concerned Bart will want to eliminate her too, but in my eyes, you only have three options to protect her.”
She doesn’t offer up those options, letting me know she wants me to ask. This woman is always playing power games.I guess it comes from too many men taking away her choices, so now she feels like she always needs the upper hand. It’s something I usually admire about her, but not when she’s using it against me. She wants me to admit I need her help, which we both know I do because I have no idea what to do with the beautiful girl in the other room, but not enough to let her win, so I remain silent, not giving in.
Eventually, she rolls her eyes and says, “I fucking hate you.”
I grunt my reply because there’s no question about that.
“You can hide her away for years and years until people forget. You can kill her?—”
“Not fuckin’ happening,” I growl out, exposing myself even more, but just the thought of watching the light in her expressive eyes go dark infuriates me.
Something about my response has Killer grinning like an idiot. “Then there’s option three—you make her yours so she’s under the club’s protection. Bart likes his world to be civilized, and having a dirty biker club after him would destroy his image. So, if he knows she’s yours, he knows she won’t talk, and he’ll leave you alone. She’ll have to call the cops, though, and tell them she wasn’t abducted, just hiding out of fear because of what happened. Then people will stop combing the fuckin’ desert looking for her.”
“You think I should marry her?” I deadpan.
“Crazier things have happened. Look at me and Judge. I spend my free time making men bleed, and he spends his doing charity.”
I shake my head. “She won’t want to marry me. I killed her dad and kidnapped her.”
“Just make her understand what’s at stake. She can either hide away for the rest of her life or get hitched to the grumpiest bastard to ever walk the Earth.”
I scowl. “Thanks for the advice, but you’re bat shit crazy. I’ll figure this out on my own.”
“Fine. Do it your way.” She hands me the untouched beer on her way out the door.
“For what it’s worth, I think Killer is right. I don’t see any other options.” Rigger tucks his hands in his pockets and leaves me standing alone, the room quiet save for the muffled cries of distress coming from the other room.
I chug the beer—not because I want it, but because I don’t let things go to waste. There was a time in my life when a beer was a luxury I didn’t think I’d ever be able to afford. Now, my bank account doesn’t even notice the cost of a six-pack, but the thought that it could be taken away at any moment never goes away.
It’s the reason I didn’t renovate my cabin when everyone else did. Well, everyone but Mustang. He and I come from similar backgrounds. The difference is, Sugar worked her ass off to make sure Mustang was taken care of while I was the one providing for my mother. The outcome was the same, though. We’re both frugal as fuck.
After depositing the bottle in the recycle bin, I brace myself on the kitchen counter while I try to think of a different plan. Nothing comes to mind until I start thinking about Killer’s idea. Could I marry her?
I’ve never once thought about marriage, probably because I’ve never been attracted to another human being before. I’m not even sure if that’s what this is. As far as I know, there’s no test I can take or list of symptoms to reference. So, how do I find out?
This could be a psychotic break for all I know. It would surprise no one if it were. Everyone knows there’s something different about me, but they don’t even try to learn more, not that I’m not complaining. I enjoy my solitude. And if I gotmarried, that solitude would be gone. She’d be here in my little cabin all the time.
Why does that not scare me?
First, I need to make sure she’s not a manipulative bitch because I refuse to put myself through that hell again. It didn’t end well for Mom or me. I guess it ended worse for Mom, but still.
Time to find out who this girl is, starting with her name.
CHAPTER FIVE
PARKER
Ipause my yelling to listen for the voices. There were people in the cabin. I heard them. Apparently, they didn’t hear me, though. Either that, or they’re okay with me being abducted by a lunatic.
