Page 20 of Riot’s Revenge

He’d taken my phone by accident. I knew there was only one place he’d be.

I stared out at the rain hammering against my apartment windows while thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. The sensible part of my brain told me going anywhere near the clubhouse was a terrible idea. That same sensible part had apparently stopped functioning properly the second Riot entered my life.

Twenty minutes later I was pulling onto the road outside the clubhouse while rain battered the windscreen hard enough to blur the gates. I sat there for a second, gripping the steering wheel. Bikes filled the lot behind the fencing while men in leather kuttes moved between the garages and clubhouse, carrying beer crates and smoking cigarettes beneath the awning. Music drifted through the storm loud enough that I could hear the bass through the rain.

I should’ve turned around and waited for him to realize what he’d done. Yet I found myself climbing out into the freezing rain and heading toward the gates before I could talk myself out of it. Water soaked through my shoes almost immediately, and cold rain clung to my hoodie while I hurried across the lot. I barely made it halfway before someone stepped directly into my path. He looked young, probably early twenties, with a prospect patch stitched onto his kutte while he eyed me cautiously.

“You lost?” he asked, voice flat but not rude.

“I’m looking for Riot.”

The prospect folded his arms across his chest immediately. “Club’s private.”

“I gathered that.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Then you should probably head back to your car.”

“My phone’s inside.”

“Yeah?” His expression didn’t change. “And who exactly are you?”

Before I could answer, another voice cut across the lot through the rain.

“Well, I’ll be fuckin’ damned.”

The prospect straightened instantly.

Ghost and Reaper walked toward us from the garage, looking entirely too entertained already. The second Ghost recognized me, his grin widened.

“Nurse finally decided to come party with us.”

Heat crawled straight up my neck.

Reaper looked between me and the clubhouse doors before barking out a laugh. “Oh, this is interesting. Riot’s gonna lose his shit when he sees you standing out here.”

“I’m not here for Riot,” I said immediately. “He stole my phone.”

Ghost barked out a loud laugh. “That actually sounds exactly like him. Jesus Christ.”

“He took it by accident off the nightstand,” I added quickly, which somehow only made them both look more amused.

Reaper smirked. “By accident after sex still counts as stealing, sweetheart.”

“Oh my God.”

The prospect looked completely lost now. “You know her?”

“She stitched us up after the Kings jumped us,” Ghost replied casually before looking back at me with a grin. “Though, honestly, I think the more important question is why Riot had access to your bedroom in the first place.”

“Ghost,” I warned.

He held his hands up immediately, still laughing. “Hey, I’m just askin’ questions.”

Understanding crossed the prospect’s face so quickly, I almost watched the exact moment everything clicked together in his head. His entire posture changed. “Oh,” he muttered.

Reaper jerked his chin toward the gates. “Let her through before Riot starts tearing strips off people.”

The prospect moved aside instantly.