Page 57 of Riot's Thorn
He kneels to lace up the boots. “Yeah. I’m meeting Killer over at the Honey Pot in twenty minutes to finish some things.”
“The Honey Pot? Isn’t that a brothel?”
“Yeah. The club owns it.”
“Why there? Do you have a kill room in the basement or something?” I chuckle, but it dies when his eyes meet mine. “You do have a kill room in the basement?”
“The less you know, the better.”
“Can I come?” I ask.
“No.” He slides his cut on.
“Why? I heard the brothel has a bar. I could hang out there and wait for you.” Clearly, I’m impressionable because the limited club life I’ve been exposed to has worn off on me. Now that I know what that guy did to their friend, I don’t care that he’ll be dead soon.
“No. I can’t do what I need to do while I’m worried about you.”
“You said you guys own it. Surely nothing bad would happen to me there.” I need to get out of here. Turns out, cabin fever is a real thing.
He grumbles and pulls out his phone. After mashing a bunch of buttons, he stares at the screen until a ding sounds. “Navy’s there and said she’d give you a tour while I take care of some work. So yeah, you can come.”
“Really?” I jump to my feet. “Let me get dressed. I’ll be five minutes.”
“Make it three.”
I take twenty, but I couldn’t go to a brothel looking like garbage. I’ll bet the women there are done up to the nines with makeup and sexy clothes. Since I don’t have anything sexy here, I’m forced to put on a cropped Janis Joplin T-shirt and the white shorts I made from the jeans Riot took from my room.
Excitement bubbles in my tummy as I slip on my Chucks. It’s either those or my flip-flops. I never dreamed I’d see the inside of somewhere so seedy, but the prospect is thrilling. Growing up the way I did, it was all fancy fundraisers and boring symphonies, a tradition I thought I’d carry on with my future family, but now, I don’t think I will.
Grandpa is probably rolling over in his grave. The thing is, now that I know their secret, any obligation I felt to uphold the family name is gone. It’s freeing, really. Not that Riot would, but even if he did let me go back to college, I think I’d drop out.The only reason I was working on my master’s was to please my father.
“Ready,” I say, pushing my glasses up my nose. I wear contacts sometimes, and I wish I had them now. My chunky frames are cute when I’m going to class or I’m in the library, but for everyday occasions, I prefer my contacts. Maybe I’ll ask Riot to break into my place again and grab them.
“Finally.” He opens the front door, and I notice Ben and Amy are nowhere to be found.
“Did you put the rats away?”
“Yeah. I don’t like them running around when no one’s home.”
I dart over to the pantry and open the door before crouching. “Bye, guys. See you in a little while.” After shutting them back in, I dash to the door, stopping when I see Riot’s expression. “What?” I ask.
“You said goodbye to my rats?”
“Yeah, I kind of feel bad for not staying home so they could continue to play.”
Riot cups my cheeks and smashes his lips to mine. This kiss is unlike any other we’ve shared. It’s full of emotion I know he can’t verbalize, but it says more to me than any words could. I melt into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. How we got to this point in just days, I’ll never understand.
“Let’s go,” he says after breaking the kiss.
“Yeah, okay.”
Hand in hand, we walk to the parking lot. I don’t recognize it, since the one and only time I was here, I was upside down and terrified. He stops in front of a bike, and I wonder if there’s something in one of the leather bags he needs. But then, he’s plopping a helmet on me and tightening the straps.
“We’re taking your bike?” I ask.
“Yeah, is that okay?”
“Sure. I’ve just never been on one before.”
