Page 88 of Riot's Thorn
As he walks away, I make arrangements for a car and blindly scroll as I wait. An uneasy feeling settles over me, and when I turn around to look, I nearly jump out of my skin when Bart approaches at the same time the town car pulls up.
“Hi, Mr. Banks. I’d love to stay and chat, but this is my ride.”
“I’m sure they’ll wait for you. I was just finishing dinner when I saw you out here. Thought I’d come and say hello.” Bart is still in the same suit from the funeral, hands casually tucked in his pockets.
“What a coincidence.” Only it doesn’t feel like a coincidence at all. It feels like he’s following me. I should get in the car and not look back, but there are a ton of people on the streets, so it’snot like he’ll try anything, and I’m curious about what he has to say. And truthfully, I like toying with him. Soon enough, he’ll get what’s coming to him, and I want him to know it’s because of me. “Let me just tell the driver I’ll be a second.”
He nonchalantly rocks on his heels until I clear things up with the driver, who’s more than happy to wait. Unfortunately. I plaster on a fake smile before turning to face the scum of the Earth.
“I’ve been thinking about what you told me, and it just doesn’t sit right with me. Is there any chance your dad didn’t know what was going on?”
“I don’t think so. The Feds have found some evidence that not only implicates him but others too.” I shouldn’t poke the bear, but I can’t help it. I want him scared. I want him shaking in his expensive loafers, just wondering when they’ll come for him. There’s no limit to the amount of harm this man has done, and it feels right that he gets a small taste of the fear he made so many others feel.
“Really? It’s just so hard to believe.”
“I can only hope everyone involved is exposed for the sick animals they really are. There is nothing worse than a man taking advantage of those weaker than them. That’s some real small dick energy, you know what I mean?”
He can’t hide his flinch, but he tries to cover it up by dragging a hand down his face. “I agree, but the more I think about it, the more I worry about your safety.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I’m assuming there are some powerful people on that list, and I’d just hate for them to come after you.”
Now I’m officially creeped out. Where is Riot when you need him? “Oh, don’t worry about that. I hired a security team who’s usually with me, but since I was with Roland, I gave them the night off. Usually, I have two guards with me at all times.”
“That’s good. Glad to hear it.” He glances into the restaurant. “I better get back.”
“Okay. Have a good night.”
“You too. We’ll talk soon.”
Not if I can help it.
CHAPTER THIRTY
RIOT
I’m glad to see Roland doesn’t give Parker a ride home. It’s risky to leave her on the street alone, but I heard her call for a car service, and there are enough people around that she’ll be okay to wait. The biggest threat right now is the one I follow home.
Clearly, his daddy is supplementing his income because he lives in a brand-new house in one of those developments where your neighbors are up your ass. It’s a modern single-story with lots of windows, dark trim, and off-white stucco.
He parks in the garage while I stay further down the street. The house is so new, the landscaping hasn’t been done, and I can tell there are some paint touch-ups and other miscellaneous work that still need to be finished, including an exposed panel where his doorbell camera will be installed. That works well for me.
Pulling my balaclava over my face, I walk right into the backyard, since the fence around the house has been erected but the gate hasn’t. It’s nothing but dirt now, but there’s a big ass hole where a pool’s being put in. Yeah, there’s no way his salary as a personal assistant is paying for this.
The back door is the same type we have at the clubhouse—all glass that opens like an accordion to make you feel like the backyard is an extension of your living area. This works in my favor because I know exactly how to get in. Pulling my lock-picking kit out, I jimmy the lock until I hear the telltalesnick. He really should look into reinforcing it.
The house is dark, save for one open door down the hall, his bedroom. I creep through the house, chancing a look into the room. It’s empty, which means he must be in the attached bathroom.
I lean against the wall behind the closed door and wait, taking stock of the items on the nightstands and dressers. Roland isn’t a knickknack kind of guy, but his nightstand has an accent lamp with what looks like a marble base. Hopefully, it’s not fake.
The door opens, and Roland steps out, using a hand towel to pat his damp face. I jump him from behind, pushing the back of his head down and using my forward momentum to slam it into one of the posts on his headboard. It dazes him enough for me to get him on his stomach and strap a zip tie to each of his ankles, another one running between the two to keep them together.
He gathers his wits enough to push onto his knees and take a swing. His fist manages to land on the lower side of my back, and I wince but don’t let it slow me down. I stand, straddling him and kicking him between the shoulders, forcing him to fall forward. Pulling his left hand behind him, I loop a zip tie between the ones keeping his ankles together and secure his wrist.
With only one hand free, I lift him to his knees, careful to keep his free hand in sight. I’m a few inches taller than the man, but I don’t outweigh him by much, so I’m panting by the time I have him where I want him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I catch my breath while holding him in place.
“What do you want from me?” Roland asks, and spittle tinged red from the bloody wound on his head flies from his mouth.
