Page 42 of Riff

Vienna wasn’t paying too much attention right then anyway as she glanced at the building, taking slow, deep breaths.

Raff shot me a look as he cut the engine and climbed out, wanting to give us a minute.

“It’s gonna be alright, darlin’,” I assured her, turning fully in my seat to face her. “It’s not like everyone is going to be standing in a line waiting to meet you,” I added. “If you want, we can go right up to the room and let you and Vernon settle in before you meet anyone.”

Just having that option seemed to ease the tension in her shoulders as she pulled her bison jacket on, disappearing beneath the fluffy fabric.

“I’ll be okay,” she said, though whether she was speaking to herself or me was anyone’s guess.

“Yeah, you will be,” I agreed, opening her door for her as she clutched Vernon to her chest so he didn’t get away.

I reached back into the backseat, gathering her bag of books and her pillows and blanket. In case she did need to make a mad dash for the bedroom, and would want to build her little cocoon to climb into and decompress.

“Ready?” I asked once I had it all in my hands.

She looked over at me, taking a deep breath, and nodded.

“Yes.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Vienna

I thought my hometown was small.

Shady Valley had it beat for sure.

I mean, yeah, there were a decent amount of storefronts in the main town, but it seemed like quite a few of them were shuttered. Likely from the economic downturn Riff had mentioned that happened after the factory shut down.

There was the pool hall, the bar, a gym, a food store, the karate studio, and, well, not much else.

The landscape itself was kind of low and somewhat barren, aside from the mountains leering down at the town.

Closer, but also staring down at the heart of Shady Valley, was the prison with its razor wire fencing and, it seemed, the biker clubhouse.

They’d mentioned it being a warehouse many times. But I guess my imagination hadn’t been able to fathom just how big of a building that might be, how much living space it would afford the men and women who called it home.

Which, I guess, now included me.

For however long I stayed.

Nerves skittered through me as I followed Riff toward the door, finding myself moving behind him as he reached for the door, and started to open it.

In my arms, Vernon was tenser than usual, not trying to squirm away at all. I guess maybe he was picking up on my anxiety, spiking his own.

I don’t know what I was expecting of the clubhouse, but cozy hadn’t exactly been at the forefront of my mind.

The bones of the warehouse were still on display from the many glass windows, exposed brick walls, and the rusted metal beams across the ceiling.

But these men had clearly made it into a home.

Right inside the door was even a cozy little entry spot where motorcycle helmets were hung on the wall with keys on nails below each and a bench to sit and slide on your shoes.

The living room area was dominated by the biggest sectional I’d ever seen in my life. It sat across from a massive flatscreen TV with a sound system below it.

To the other side of the room was a sort of game area that featured a pool table with a splash of bright purple felt, a foosball table, an air hockey table, and a set-up for darts as well as a loaded bar.

Further back was a kitchen that looked straight out of a magazine, loaded with industrial appliances and featuring an island big enough to serve a full Thanksgiving feast on. The cabinets were all black and the countertops were stainless steel, giving it a bit of a commercial feel.

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