Page 118 of Riot’s Revenge

Anger rushed through me, heating me up and feeding my desire for violence. I hit him again and again. Somewhere behind me someone shouted my name, but it seemed far away. Almost as though I was underwater. All I could see was Maria, with blood running down her temple, shaking hands and bruises forming on her beautiful skin. I could hear the fear in her voice when she called me and the pain when she said, I don’t know if I believe you anymore.

My fist connected again, and bone cracked beneath it.

“Riot.” Someone grabbed my shoulder.

I swung around so fast Tiny immediately released me. “He’s done.”

My chest heaved and I looked down. The King had collapsed against the wall, blood covering most of his face.

“He ain’t dead.”

Tiny stared at me for a second and something in his expression flickered. He remembered. They all fucking remembered. Maybe not the younger brothers, but Tiny did. Reaper, Spider and Keno did. They remembered the man I’d been when Shadow wore the President’s patch, and I stood at his side. Back when anger came easier than anything else and when hurting someone was sometimes the only thing that made the noise in my head stop.

I’d spent years becoming someone else and Maria had helped with that without ever knowing she’d done it. One look at her bleeding and terrified had ripped every fucking year away.

I turned back to the King. “Where are the others?”

His swollen mouth twisted into something resembling a smile. “Go . . . fuck yourself,” he slurred.

I pulled my knife and his smile disappeared. “Last chance.”

His eyes dropped to the blade, then lifted toward the loft.

I looked up and saw shadows moved above us. “Down!” I yelled as shots exploded through the barn.

Spider dragged Tiny behind the tractor as I threw myself sideways. A bullet caught the wood inches from my head, spraying splinters across my face. I rolled behind a stack of old pallets.

Another shot, then another and a sharp burn tore across my ribs. I sucked in a breath. Fuck. My hand went to my side and came back wet with blood.

A gunshot cracked from somewhere behind me and the shooting from above stopped. We were met with deafening silence.

“Got him,” Spider called.

I pushed myself upright, wiped the blood from my hand onto my jeans when I heard an engine outside. My legs were moving before I could keep up.

The last King was halfway across the yard toward an old pickup hidden behind the farmhouse.

“Motherfucker.”

He looked over his shoulder and saw me and ran faster. I caught him before he reached the truck. We hit the ground hard enough to knock the air from my lungs and pain tore through my ribs.

He rolled and swung; his fist caught my cheek and white light exploded across my vision. I hit him back. He drove his knee into my side, and I grunted, grabbing his jacket before he could get away. We rolled through the dirt. His elbow caught my mouth, and I tasted blood. Then I was on top, and My fist came down. Again, and again.

“Riot!” I barely heard Reaper.

The King tried covering his face, but I ripped his arm away.

“You touched her.” My fist connected. “You fucking touched my wife.” Another hit. I felt pain each time I struck, but I couldn’t stop. Blood covered my knuckles, his face and my shirt. I didn’t know whose was whose anymore and I didn’t fucking care.

Hands grabbed the back of my kutte. “Riot!”

I threw them off.

The King coughed beneath me.

“Nobody goes after my woman.” I placed my knife to his throat and finished it.

I looked up to see that Finn and Link had the driver of the truck on his knees, hands behind his head. He wasn’t someone I knew, certainly not from back during the first time we’d tangled with the Kings.