Page 85 of Riot's Thorn
“I’d like to speak to you in private for a second,” he says, gripping my elbow in a hold that’s not painful but also brooks no arguments. He walks me back to where no one can hear us. “We were so worried when you disappeared. Are you okay?”
“I’m doing better now. The shock of what happened had me out of my mind, so I took a little trip.”
“That makes sense. I can’t imagine how hard it was for you to witness what happened. Once you came back, did you speak to the cops?” he asks, and I give him a questioning look. “I just mean, did you give them a statement? You know, so these people can be found.”
I keep my eyes trained on him, looking for a reaction. “I gave them a statement, but I’m working with the FBI on some other stuff related to the shooting.”
“The FBI? Why did they need to get involved?” He’s careful to school his features, but there’s a slightly higher pitch to his voice that tells me he’s nervous.
I’m not sure how to play this. Do I tell him what I found and make it sound as if I was as surprised as everyone else? Or maybe I leave it and give him nothing else. The more I think about it, the more I’m sure Bart had every intention of removing everything from the basement. He probably thought he had more time, since I had most likely been abducted by whoever killed my dad. Which was true, in a way.
Ultimately, I decide to spill most of what I know because fuck this guy. I have a competent security team, and somewhere out there is my monster, protecting me from a distance. Maybe that gives me a false bravado, but I’m going with it.
“I’m not sure if I should say anything because there’s an ongoing investigation.” I watch closely for his reaction.
“What?” His eyes widen comically. He’s a terrible actor. “Parker, you can trust me. You’ve known me your whole life, and I have connections everywhere in case you need resources.”
I chew the inside of my mouth in mock debate then motion for him to lean down so I can whisper, “I think Dad was involved in something twisted. The basement was always off limits to me, and after Dad’s death, I figured I’d find out why.” I let my words hitch and my hands cover my mouth. “There are some suspicious rooms down there. I don’t know what it all means yet, but they’re looking into it.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I know. That’s why it’s so hard for me to admit. But with the evidence the FBI collected, they’re certain something nefarious was going on, and they’re dedicated to finding everyone involved.”
“My god,” he says, straightening. “I can’t believe it.”
“Trust me, I don’t either, but the evidence was damning.”
“I wish you had come to me or any of your father’s other friends first so we could handle this for you.”
Uh-huh, I’ll bet you do. “I just wasn’t thinking. It was so upsetting after everything I’ve been through already.”
He wraps his arms around me, and I get the urge to stab him in the balls. “Why don’t you give me the name of the agents working on this, and I’ll be the go-between. That way, you can put it out of your mind and work on healing.”
“I’ll have to ask them. They were pretty adamant I not tell anyone.”
“Surely they don’t mean family. I mean, maybe I’m overstepping, but I think of you like a niece.”
I rub my forehead. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I’ll get that information for you. Do you have a card? I’m afraid my cellphone was destroyed when Dad was killed.”
“Of course.” He digs in his wallet. “Where are you staying now?”
“With me,” a deep voice from my left growls. I look over to see Riot approaching, his hands balled into fists at his side.
“Riot,” I say, shocked to say the least.
“Hey, baby.” He kisses my forehead.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Bart says.
“I don’t suppose we have.” Riot holds a hand out. “Name’s Riot.”
“Riot,” Bart repeats the name with disdain and ignores Riot’s outstretched hand before turning his attention to me. “You know this man?”
“Uh, yeah. He’s my. . . .” I search for a word to describe who he is to me. My captor? My stalker?
“Boyfriend. I’m her boyfriend.”
Boyfriend seems like such a juvenile term coming from the lips of a badass biker, but hearing him describe himself in that way sends my heart fluttering. There’s also an edge of concern there because I haven’t done everything I set out to do and don’t want him to try and drag me back.
