Vicious Heart (Desert Kings MC #2)

15. Riley

fifteen

Riley

Cam didn’t argue with me when I texted him that I was leaving. I think he understood my need to see Kenna after last night. It wasn’t until I was punching in the address Dylan had given me that the trepidation sank in.

Last night had been…unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Thinking back to the party and the violence there, the entire scene rolled around until I couldn’t breathe. Like I was reliving it all over. Then I thought of Cam, the slayer of my demons, and I sucked in a deep breath and felt instantly steadier.

If I broke the frat house into two separate events, the Kings’ involvement was by far the more violent one. And yet, they weren’t the bad guys. They’d saved us.

I knew the law enough to know that he could end up in prison. My biggest fear now was him paying that cost. Lance, the others, they’d have hurt more than just us. Men like that were the real monsters. They’d never change. They’d just grow more adept at hiding their true colors.

Fuck that.

Dylan’s Jeep was already in the gravel drive. I parked behind it and walked up to the porch. There was a shop to the left, bits and pieces of scrap metal and half-built bikes littered the yard. This felt like a biker lived here, for sure.

The man who opened the door was vaguely familiar. His smile was warm, curving the ends of his salt and pepper mustache.

“Hi, Riley.” He pulled the door open and gestured me inside. He was tall and thin, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “I’m David. We met briefly at the funeral.”

One in the sea of faces I played court to in front of Archer’s casket.

“I don’t get down to the clubhouse much anymore. Hadn’t had much of a chance to talk with you. Got some stories about your dad, if you ever want to hear them.”

He stopped me in the hallway, his face turning solemn. “They’re in Kenna’s room. That girl, she’s never had many people look out for her. What you did last night is huge to me. Thank you, and I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Uncomfortable with the praise, I looked down at the scuffed toes of my Converse.

“All the same.” He dipped his head and wandered off in the opposite direction, followed by the telltale creak of a screen door closing.

I stood in Kenna’s doorway and smile weakly.

Dylan sat in a chair near the window. Kenna was curled on her side on the bed, on top of the covers, with her knees pulled to her chest. She’d showered, her damp hair pulled back from her face, and she was dressed in cartoon pajama pants and an oversized Desert Kings t-shirt.

She jumped up when she saw me. I had a second to brace myself before she threw herself around me in a fierce hug. Whatever trepidation I’d had about coming here vanished with her embrace. She was okay, we were okay. Nothing else mattered.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder. “I never should have dragged you into that.”

The relief that she was still…Kenna made me lighter. “Never apologize for that again. I’m glad I was there.”

She pulled away and the three of us were silent for a while. Dylan, reclined in her chair, had no doubt already lectured Kenna on where she went wrong.

I didn’t need to pile on, so I didn’t.

This room was different from the rest of the house. On my way in I’d seen dark panels, the occasional motorcycle photo, Desert Kings memorabilia, and a random assortment of masculine stuff. It was sort of suffocating, in a way.

Kenna’s room was neat, the walls a bright cream color, with feminine landscape prints and posters from her youth dotting the walls. There was familiarity here. So many things I’d put in storage were similar. This had been her childhood bedroom. Being here made me nostalgic.

The silence grew thick, and we needed a change of subject. “How long have you lived here?”

Dylan was already tapping her foot restlessly and flicked on the television before Kenna could answer.

“Since I was about twelve? Sixth grade, I think.” She sat on her bed and waved for me to join her. “My mom was dating David, and we moved in. But that didn’t last long. She got arrested and sent away. Instead of sending me to a foster home, David let me stay. I’ve been here ever since.”

Another story about how the Desert Kings had served as someone’s surrogate family softened what Cam had done. Something else I saw in shades of gray.

The truth would never be black and white for me again.

Maybe I was more like Archer than Mom. She’d seen the life he lived as something firmly in the black. Dark, dangerous, the sort of thing she’d tried to scare me away from. From what I could tell, Archer had seen a way to make his life count.

“You okay?” I stopped ignoring the Big Ugly Thing that hung between us and sat on the bed beside her.

“They didn’t rape her.” Dylan said, relaxing against the chair and squeezing her eyes closed tightly. “But they would have.”

Kenna rested her head on my shoulder. “You got them there, just in time. You saved me.”

I took her hand and squeezed it. “We stick together.” The Desert Kings’ surrogate family was mine now, too.

“Check this out.” Dylan straightened, turning the volume up on the television.

“Hayes County Sheriffs have identified the four men killed in a single car accident last night. Deputies say it was clear that drugs or alcohol played a role and that the single car drove off into the Dry Valley River…” The newscaster’s voice trailed off as four images appeared on the screen.

“River?” Everything I’d seen was desert, dry and begging for rain.

Dylan glanced up. “Not really. It’s a big ass dry river bed, floods when it rains and runs out of the county.”

Chad was the second in the row. Then Lance, bordered by their two cronies, including Pig Face.

I sucked in a breath, the room twenty degrees colder than it had been. Cam’s voice filled my ears.

“Drag his ass.”

The room slowly spun as a busted red sports car flipped over on its side, and covered in yellow crime scene tape, filled the screen. I’d known. But seeing it made it harder to ignore. Cam might not have killed them—but he was the reason they died.

He’d done that for me.

And I was bad enough to be proud of that without feeling a single ounce of shame. They’d never hurt another woman again.

“Damn,” Kenna breathed the word, almost reverently.

“Turn it off.” I said then turned to Kenna and spoke tenderly. “It’s up to every man to make choices. They made bad ones. Wasn’t your fault.”

“I needed to see it. But now we don’t talk about it again.” Dylan’s voice broke a little. “We don’t want to risk saying the wrong thing to the wrong person.”

My fight with Cam at The Black Cat came full circle. I understood now why he’d been so upset with me.

“Karma rides a Harley,” my whisper resounded in the quiet of the small bedroom.

“The secrets are easier to keep, the longer you stay in Dry Valley,” Dylan said from her chair.

She wasn’t wrong, not even a little. It seemed with every step I took, I held onto more of them. Too many people covered up too much here. Now I was one of them.

I thought of Cam, what he’d done when his mother died. That secret killed whatever innocence he had left. Made him into the man that did—the mangled car flashed in my mind—things like that.

He’d done it for me. Something else that shackled him to the club.