Vicious Heart (Desert Kings MC #2)

9. Riley

nine

Riley

Driving myself was a strange feeling now. As a kid, I’d always felt this massive sense of freedom in my car, alone, with the radio blaring. That was nothing compared to riding on the back of Cam’s bike, face tilted toward the sun as we tore through the desert.

Even thinking about it turned me on a little.

Dry Valley had made me a different person. I liked this version of me. I liked the excited tickle in my belly when I thought of riding out to Desert Lights on the back of Cam’s bike flanked by the rest of the club.

Being with Cam made me feel important and sexy. The combination was exhilarating.

As I stepped out of the car, Puck was rifling around in his saddlebags. He smiled and tossed me a wave. I studied his bike for a minute. It was a similar make to Cam’s but the crimson tank and fenders were covered in shadowy sketches of what I could only describe as fiery demons blazing across it, before being swallowed by smoke.

I was going to ask him if he sketched the art himself, but shouts echoed around the building from the back. The argument was loud and clear enough I could tell it was Kenna and most likely Ghost. On the heels of her visit a few days ago, I wasn’t really surprised.

Puck heard it, too, but didn’t seem surprised. But the big man moved fast, his long legs eating up the hard sandy earth and leaving me running to keep up.

By the time I rounded the corner, Ghost had Kenna by the shirtfront, screaming in her face. His movements were violent, his face beet red, veins popping out on his neck, spittle flying.

To her credit, my feisty friend was giving as good as she got. Struggling on the toes of her boots, clutching sparkling fairy wings in one hand, she pummeled his chest with her other. The only thing louder than Ghost was Kenna.

I might have been scared, but she wasn’t.

Not seeing Puck and I, Ghost tossed her to the ground, where she hit and rolled like a child’s baby doll. When he made like he was going to stomp on her, panic laced across me and propelled me forward.

“No!”

On the ground, Kenna rolled up onto her elbows, grinning and defiant. Then she spit at his face.

But Puck was already there, a solid wall of tattooed, pissed off muscle. He shoved the smaller man so hard, he fell to his knees and rolled on the ground a few times, similar to what Kenna had just done, only with much more force. The motion reminded me of a stunt man jumping off a moving train.

Puck had done it with minimal effort. I now understood why Cam had entrusted him to keep me safe. The man was a beast. He picked Ghost up by the throat and reared back with his fist.

Kenna was on her feet, zero fear. She jumped onto Puck’s arm, hanging from it with all her weight, before he could throw the punch. He lowered that arm, but held Ghost up to eye level. The other man kicked his feet in the air, the size difference almost comical.

He gagged, face and head turning red, the color so dark it washed out the black tattoos of Ghost’s skull.

“God damn it, Puck, stop ! Jesus. Fuck!”

The way his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared, he was about to put a serious hurting on Ghost. I wrapped an arm around Kenna, tried to tug her away, but she shrugged me off and went for Puck’s other arm.

Then she gave up, placed both palms firmly on his chest. The moment she touched his chest, the big guy stopped moving completely.

“Please, Puck,” she begged in a much softer voice.

He released Ghost onto the ground in a puddle of gasping, piss stained piece of shit. My anger was so deep, I felt like a piece of Cam was sliding out. Ghost coughed, spit, and rolled to his hands and knees.

“Go on, suck his dick, too, like the pass around you are,” Ghost grumbled from the ground.

Puck surged forward again, one arm around Kenna to move her with him and keep her from falling.

“ Please , leave it.” This time, she lay her face against his chest.

He nodded once and glared over her head. “Get the fuck out of here until your sponsor calls you.” His voice boomed with authority. “Or even she won’t stop me from fucking you up.”

Wiping the spit and dirt from his mouth, Ghost stumbled to his feet and took off in the other direction.

Kenna took a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

Then she moved away, the same ball of restless energy she always was, and screwed her face up. “He thinks I sabotaged him and told you some shit.” She avoided looking at me, like if she did, he’d know I knew something he didn’t.

Puck was bewildered for a flash before he frowned. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Something about Cam.” She snatched her wings from the ground and shoved her arms through them. “He’s fucking crazy. Always worried about the damn patch vote.”

“After this, he fucking should be,” he snarled, talking more than I’d ever heard.

“You good?” He glanced at me, as if just realizing I was there.

I nodded, then rubbed a hand over my face. “I’m glad you were here.”

Kenna ignored us both. Collecting belongings that had been scattered around in the sandy dirt. Her fairy wings winking in the sun.

“I’m going to need a ride to Desert Lights,” she said to Puck as she shouldered her bag.

“You sure? It’ll make what he said true,” he said before holding the back door open for us.

“Yeah. Fuck him. If he’s already telling everyone that, who gives a shit?”

“Won’t that cause… more problems?” I knew enough to know riding on the back of someone’s bike was a big deal.

“I don’t give a shit,” Kenna barked before taking my hand. “Let’s go upstairs and get ready.”

“You should probably consider a job as a matador or a lion tamer,” I said as I followed her up the steps.

I wanted to ask her what she’d told Cam, what had made Ghost so angry. But this club business was a part of Cam I could never touch.

Was I ready for that to be the rest of my life?

***

I was poured into incredibly short, glittery black shorts. They were Kenna’s, which meant they stuck to me like a second skin, making my ass look bigger than it really was.

We’d paired that with a gauzy pink top with spaghetti straps that opened in the middle and flowed in the back. Kenna did my makeup, shimmering pinks and purples. I looked like a slutty Tinkerbell. But I drew the line at the fairy wings.

She wore them, though, over her sparkling tube top and skirt.

“You realize it’s not Halloween, right?” Dylan sat on the edge of the bed I’d had sex with Cam in a few days ago, eying us with a hefty dose of speculation.

“It’s a rave, Dylan.” Kenna jerked a combat boot on over her neon purple fishnets. “Everyone will be dressed like this.”

“And that’s one reason I don’t go.” She curled her upper lip and turned to me. “It’s not too late to back out. You can hang with me and dog sit for Jester.”

Old Riley probably would have, but this me had gotten sucked in by Kenna’s enthusiasm. Not to mention I didn’t want to spend that much time away from Cam. But I was trying not to think about that.

“I’m kind of excited.” I shrugged and found my shoes. I went for comfort and pulled on a pair of pink high-top Chucks I’d not worn in a long time. Mom had bought them for me, given them to me the day she’d told me about the cancer.

The pain from the loss swept over me, in a way it hadn’t in weeks. I closed my eyes and thought of Cam downstairs. I pictured his face, chin jutted out and shoulders back in defiance, and I was stronger. My fingers didn’t tremble as I tied the laces.

Kenna ducked out of the room, and I glanced at Dylan. “She and Ghost had a huge, ugly fight out back earlier.” What I didn’t say, was that I would go even if I didn’t want to.

Dylan grimaced and softened. “Keep an eye on her. Kenna can be wild when she’s upset.”

“I will. She’s riding with Puck.” Their relationship was odd to me. A friendship, sure, but not like Dylan and Cam.

“Ooh boy, Ghost is going to lose his shit.” Dylan snorted a laugh. “He hates Puck. He tries to hide it, but dude…”

“Puck choked the shit out of him when he acted like he was going to hurt Kenna out back.” He’d practically emasculated the smaller man.

Dylan didn’t even flinch at that statement. “Good, because he’s a bitch.”

“Why doesn’t she just date Puck?”

“That’s a lot to unpack, to be honest.” Dylan plucked at a loose thread on the blanket. “Puck doesn’t fuck around with anybody, not since all the shit with Jessica—his ex. I don’t doubt Kenna would be interested, but I think it screwed him up so bad he focuses on his kid, his business, that sort of shit.”

“Who?” Kenna came back, cutting to the mirror to smear on another layer of shiny lip-gloss.

“Puck.” Dylan made an oops face at me and giggled a little.

“That man.” Kenna dropped everything into a bag and glanced at me in the mirror. “His baby momma drama is enough to write a novel.”

Dylan got off the bed and walked to the door, elbowing me an I told you so as she went. “You girls have fun. I’ve got to get things ready for the guys when they do shift change.”

The girls had told me the Kings would switch off sometime in the morning, leaving a different crew to finish out the party. That meant coming home with Cam, which always left me excited.

I followed Kenna down the stairs, her wings bobbing in front of me. And for a moment. I was anxious. The clubhouse was all dark woods and leather, so were the guys… not glitter and pastels parties in the desert. Suddenly self-conscious about my outfit, I stopped a few stairs short and looked around.

You’re being silly.

But half of me wanted to rush back upstairs to my jeans and tank.

Cam turned on his barstool. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared, and his tongue slid slowly over his lips. My heart pounded and my knees went weak.

He was on his feet and halfway across the room before I could make it down the final two steps. At the base of the stairs, he took my hand and spun me in front of him.

His low groan turned me on. “I can’t wait until this shit is over.” Then he pulled me back against his chest. “I’m going to rip off those tiny shorts and bend you over the closest thing I can find and fuck you until you can’t breathe.”

Oh yeah. I definitely wasn’t going to change.

He spun me again, kissed me hard, then squeezed my ass with both hands. “I’m not going to be able to stop doing that,” he muttered as he pulled away.

I liked it all and grinned. “Good.”

“Let’s get out of here.” He tucked me under his arm.

The sun was almost down as we walked out, but the night air was warm.

I’d seen them run in a pack, but I’d never ridden with them like this. The sound was breathtaking. Literally, the rumble of all the Harleys reverberated in my chest and all the way down to my toes.

With this many, they rode two, sometimes three wide, on the long stretches of two-lane highway. Kenna rode on the back of Puck’s bike, fairy wings surprisingly intact, her arms thrown out wide like the little hellion she was.

I tried it too, letting go of Cam and spreading my arms. The thrilling feeling caught somewhere between falling to my death and taking flight. Cam glanced at me in the mirror, his lips turning up in the slightest smile.

I wasn’t ready to give this up just yet.