Page 38 of Riot's Thorn
Too bad I don’t care. If I wanted to, I’d hike her over my shoulder and take her home right now. No one would stop me or interrupt. The only reason she’s walking away with Jenson right now is because I’m allowing it. But that prick better not cross me.
“Don’t worry, she’ll be fine,” Mustang says.
“So, about the throwing stars. Is that a yes?” Lucky pulls out a small box and opens it, revealing shiny new shuriken.
“Only if I can throw them at you.”
“Hell yeah. Let’s go.”
“Just keep them out of his dick, mmkay?” Tinleigh pats my chest. This is why I don’t come to these things. Everyone is so touchy. “And now I’m walking away so I can pretend you aren’t all overgrown children with access to adult toys.”
Lucky slaps her ass as she leaves. “Don’t go far. We still got that motorboat appointment.”
Lucky, Mustang, and I walk over to a more wooded section of the yard, collecting Dutch, one of our enforcers, along the way. Prior to Killer joining the club, Dutch was the closest thing to a friend I had, mostly because he’s the least afraid of me and what I’m capable of.
“Hot piece of ass,” he says as we find the best place to do this.
“She’s not a piece of anything. Don’t piss me off.”
“I just meant you did good.” He jerks his chin over to where Jenson and Parker are standing just on the outside of the festivities. At some point, a large space of tables and chairs was cleared to make room for a makeshift dance floor. In the center is Cy and his ol’ lady, Charlotte. The show they’re putting on makes me uncomfortable.
“Okay,” I say, trying not to chuck this throwing star at Jenson’s head when he reaches out and holdsbothof Parker’s hands as he says fuck knows what to her.
“Do me first!” Mustang interrupts my murderous thoughts from thirty feet or so away, but I don’t snap out of it fast enough, and the man is impatient as fuck. “Riot! Come on!”
I’m sending one of the stars in a vertical throw before I even look in his direction, only using the sound of his voice to aim. It hits its mark, just above his head, dead center in the trunk of the tree. The look on his face almost makes me smile.
“Fuck, man. The pucker factor on that one was a ten. You don’t need to go that hard.”
I toss another star without warning. This time, I use a horizontal throw, which is much more challenging, but again, I hit my mark.
“Jesus fuck. . . goddamn you, Riot!” Mustang bends at the waist, finding the star embedded in the trunk between his legs, just two inches below his dick. “Forget about the pucker factor. My balls are inside my body now, and I’m pretty sure I shit myself. I’m done with this game.”
“I thought you wanted Jenson to see.”
“Changed my mind. Knew you were a sadistic asshole, but shit.” He’s walking funny when he approaches, reaching out for the last star. “No more party tricks for you.”
“So what are you going to do with her?” Dutch asks when Mustang’s out of hearing range.
“Keep her.”
“Yeah, but what does that mean?” He scratches the scruff on his chin. “She can’t be a prisoner forever.”
Blood rushes to my head, and I have to fight not to take a swing at him. Did he ask Rigger what he was going to do with Navy? Or Lucky with Tinleigh? No, the fuck, he didn’t. Why is this any different? Why can’t anyone accept she’s mine? Who cares if she’s here against her will?
“If I let her go, Bart’ll kill her the minute he gets wind she’s still alive,” I grit out.
“Yeah, I know, but she can’t stay locked up in that cabin.”
“What would you have me do then?” An inferno of fury swirls through my body, begging for violence. At one point, I wouldn’t have cared who I hurt, but I made a promise to Cy when I joined the club that I’d keep my anger in check around my brothers, and I always keep my word. But Dutch is pushing my control.
“Someone mentioned marriage. If Bart knew she was under our protection, he wouldn’t dare touch her.”
“She isn’t ready for that. Not yet.”
“You think the longer she’s around you, the more willing she’ll be?”
“Yes,” I say, but when he just pins me with a look, I realize he was being sarcastic. That pisses me off. Why can’t people just say what they mean? Then there wouldn’t be any confusion. Instead, people infer things through tone and word placement, something that’s easily misconstrued.
