Page 11 of Property of Rio

A tiny thrill courses through me as I gather my nightclothes. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect I’d be sleeping in Rafe’s bed. Okay, maybe my far-fetched fantasies, but even still, I know for a fact he doesn’t bring women here. If he’s with anyone in that way, he uses a crash room at the clubhouse. I don’t really understand why and I’m too chickenshit to ask him.

“God, this ensuite is fantastic,” I say out loud as I start adding the water in the tub. I know Rafe mentioned years ago that he’d had a few renovations done on the big house after Paps died, but never saw the changes.

This bathroom looks like it could be in one of those magazines that panders to the rich and famous. Double vanity sinks with the invisible pour faucets, a huge linen closet, fancy mirrors overthe sinks with medicine cabinets behind them, a separate room with the toilet and another sink. But the piece de resistance, as far as I’m concerned, is the bathtub itself. It’s big and sunken enough that even someone as tall as Rafe can comfortably recline with their feet outstretched, plus there are jets along the sides. The shower stall that’s along the opposite wall has multiple rain showerheads protruding from the tile, which I’ve definitely availed myself of, along with a deep bench and built-in shelves for holding shampoo, soap, and conditioner.

I snicker as the tub begins to fill because I have four bottles of product in the shower right now—my shampoo, conditioner, hair mask, and body wash, while Rafe has one bottle and a bar of soap. Granted, his shampoo does double duty as it’s a two-in-one with conditioner mixed in, but it amazes me that his gorgeous head of hair looks as good and shiny as it does without him using a fancy product that costs a mint. I use what my salon recommends which is pricey but given the fact that my expenses aren’t all that much, I feel I’m worth spending the extra money on.

Tossing in some essential oils and Epsom salts to help ease the burden of my tenderness, I strip out of my clothes, throw them into the hamper, then sink into the hot water with a long, drawn-out sigh. Every day, I’m able to do a little bit more physically, but my ribs still hurt like hell whenever they’re stretched or pulled while I try to exercise my body. The bruises are finally yellow and a disgusting shade of putrid green, but that’s better than the black and deep purple they were so I count it as a win.

After soaking for a little bit, I wash up quickly because I’m suddenly exhausted. I had wanted to shave my legs, but right now, it’s the least of my worries. I pull the plug with my toe, giggling a little bit because Rafe has always told me I havemonkey toes, then get out and grab one of his thick, absorbent towels.

“Seems he likes some of the finer things in life too,” I muse as I dry myself off before slipping a clean pair of underwear on and then my nightgown. With that done, I brush my teeth, moisturize my face, then head into bed. “I need to remember to talk to Rafe about going back home,” I mutter as I pull back the covers on the side I’ve been sleeping on. “That’s a problem for later Issy.”

SIX

Rio

“Prez, gotta stop for gas,” Abyss says through the intercoms in our helmet.

“Good idea, it gives all of us a chance to take a piss and grab something to drink,” I reply. “Let’s pull off the next exit and take care of business, Brother.”

While I want to get to the location where Pokey says Gage’s debit card was last used, I also know we can’t roll in there on fumes. Now that Gage’s GPS is showing him going in the opposite direction as the trailer, we decided time was of the essence and needed to try and cut him off before he makes it to wherever he’s headed. We pull into a larger truck stop and quickly take up multiple pumps as we spread out so we can start pumping gas while some go into the store to hit the head then grab something to drink or a quick snack. The few brothers who smoke will also light one up around the building so they’re nowhere near the pumps, I’m sure, because it’s hard as hell to keep two hands on the bike and smoke at the same time.

Q-Ball goes to each pump and uses the club’s card to get the process going. Right now, I’ll wait until a few more brothers are back before I head in myself for any refreshments and to drain my bladder. My mind is still spinning as I wonder what Issy’s doing right now, and how much I’ll eventually be able to tell her about what happened.

Probably not too much, because most will fall under the guise of club business. At least where the Mojave Devils are concerned. As far as Gage goes, some of that will as well, because while he’s never shown any interest in being part of the club, he’s been around long enough to know some things as well as the inner workings. He has to know if he’s caught, he’s going to pay the price for his ill deeds.

“What has you frowning?” Abyss asks, handing me a bottle of water. At my look he shrugs. “I know you by now, Prez. You’ll wait until everyone else has gone in and you’re just as thirsty as the rest of us. You know we’re all adults, right?”

I raise my brow at him because sometimes, it feels like I’m overseeing a room full of cranky, teething toddlers. He bursts out laughing and nods because he definitely knows what I’m not saying out loud, since he’s had to stand in for me a few times over the years.

“Well, some are more adult than others,” I finally say, breaking the seal on the water and taking a long drink. “Fuck, as much as I love riding, I forget sometimes just how hot it gets wearing our leathers and the bucket on our heads. Normally, I’d have grabbed something before we hit the road since I’ve got my cup holder, but when we got the intel from Pokey, I didn’t want to wait. It’s why we had to stop so soon. My fucking head’s not in the game all the way.”

“Considering it’s Issy, I think we all get it, Prez,” Abyss replies. “She means a lot to all of us, Rio. Hopefully, you’ll get your head outta your ass now and make her your ol’ lady for real. I mean, we know as far as you’re concerned that she is, butshehas no clue where she stands. As far as she knows, y’all are just friends.”

Just friends? Really? I’ve thought of her as more than that for so long now, it never dawned on me that she wasn’t aware of how I felt. Guess I need to step up and clue her in because there’s no fucking way she’s not gonna be part of my life in more than a friend capacity moving forward. If that means my brothers have to handle shit while I’m with her out on the circuit, so be it. She’s never gonna have to worry about something like this happening again.

“Haven’t heard from BamBam yet,” I announce. “Hopefully, when they get where Pokey located the trailer, they find Stargazer. She better be unscathed too. Hell won’t be able to hide them if that horse has been hurt in any way, shape, or form.”

“And I suspect Issy would lead that charge,” Q-Ball states. “Go on, Prez, I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Appreciate it, Brother. Abyss, shoot Pokey a text to make sure we’re still headed in the right direction. Also, see if he’s heard from BamBam and Gopher yet.”

As I head into the store, my mind on a million and one things, I realize that I wish I had a crystal ball so I could figure out what the fuck is going on. Gage has always been reliable and loyal where Issy is concerned. Why he would suddenly change tactics is beyond me because if this was his plan, he’s been fooling all of us for a very long time.

“Holy hell,” Q-Ball whispers as we look down on Gage’s bludgeoned and beaten body. He’s still alive, but just barely. Someone’s thoroughly worked him over and I suspect it’s the fucking Devils.

“We can’t transport him back on our bikes,” I reply.

“I mean, we could just hogtie him onto one of our pillions, Prez,” Nighthawk retorts. “It’s not like he deserves any special consideration.”

“Do you honestly think we wouldn’t be stopped if a citizen or a fucking cop saw us flying down the interstate with an obviously injured person strapped to one of us?” I question, flabbergasted that sometimes my men let their anger override their common sense. “We may not be thrilled with him right now, but there’s no fucking way I’m putting any of us in the line of fire and risking getting arrested for this douche.”

“I’d be willing to take one for the team,” Richie Rich says. “I mean, I’ve got the money to get myself out of jail.”

“Fuck that. Chick, call the local U-Haul and see if we can get a small box truck. He can ride in the back of that along with whoever’s bike is driving. Tell them we’ll need those tarps. Worst case scenario, we have to burn them because of his bleeding, and buy some new ones.”

“Works for me,” Chick mumbles, pulling out his phone and stepping away from the rest of us.

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