The Riot (Hell's Disciples MC Book 5) (16 page)

Rock doesn’t move, and neither do I. Behind a tree, I watch in complete horror and sickness as the guy hits Rock in the face with his gun. Rocky staggers back.

I can’t believe what I’m watching. The unbreakable, the invincible man in my life is being cut down, one blow at a time. The man hits him again.

I want to help, but know there isn’t a damn thing I can do. The only thing I can do is find Dan.

Spinning around, I run directly into solid muscle. Squealing, my voice raw, I scream, “No!”

“Whoa, there.” I swing wide, aiming for something important, only to be stopped short with a bear hug around my middle, locking my arms down at my sides. My breaths are coming in short labored pants. “Calm the fuck down.” The voice registers and I look up into a set of familiar brown eyes.

Rampage.

Behind him is Tank, Dan, and Buck. I’ve never been happier, or more scared in all my life.

Rampage lets me go and stalks towards the bushes that surround the clearing with his gun drawn.

Dan looks me up and down before nodding at Tags and Ben. “Get her back to the truck and get the fuck outta here.”

“You have to do something. Tyler’s been shot, and some guy hit Rocky.”

“We’ve got this. Get the fuck outta here. Get in the truck and get to the club. Pull in the shop, Mossy’s there with Tiny. Go.”

I don’t have a choice, so I go. I don’t look back, even if it kills my heart and soul not to. I can’t.

I leave my trust with Rocky and his brothers.

He’ll be okay…he has to be. I can’t, nor will I, live without him.

***

The worry is overwhelming and heart wrenchingly painful. It’s hard to concentrate. Functioning is difficult, and it’s near impossible to breathe.

I sip the drink Sam poured me, trying desperately to keep my mind and hands occupied. Lennon meant well when she made me a grilled cheese, but it’s still sitting in front of me, cold and uneaten. I appreciate her effort, but there’s no way I could eat, let alone watch a movie with her, Sam, Lil and the girls. Instead, I’m sitting between Mossy and Tiny at the bar, listening to them jabber on about bike engines. Although, I’m suspecting their motor talk is more for my benefit than theirs. They’re concerned too, just nice enough not to worry aloud in front of me.

The image of Tyler falling to his knees, and Rock taking hits to the face, keep replaying in my mind in vivid detail. Added to them are imagined unknowns that make my stomach crawl up my throat.

The not knowing is the worst.

I keep wishing I had told Rocky I love him, told him all the things I’ve kept bottled up inside all these years.

Right now, sitting at the bar, I wonder what the hell I was so scared of all these years by running in the opposite direction of Rocky, when I should have been running right to him.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Tiny tells me, setting a comforting hand on my shoulder as he gets up. “You want another?” I shake my head, but he frowns. “A refresh then. The thing has gone room temp by now.” The ice has melted from my drink, not that I care.

“No, I’m good.”

No one has called, and no one knows anything. Part of me is halfway to the door, ready to drive back to Rock and make sure he’s still alive and breathing. The smart part keeps me planted on the barstool, conjuring up all kinds of unhealthy ideas about what could be happening.

It’s been two hours since I got back here, and I’ve heard bits and pieces. The other clubs wanted something the Disciples had majority over, and they were willing to do whatever
it took to get it. I don’t know what it is, all I know is it took Rock away from me.

“Try not to worry, girl,” Mossy grumbles. “This sorta thing always works itself out. They’ll be fine.”

“Promise?” I don’t know why I ask, but I regret it the minute I do.

“Can’t make promises like that, sweetheart, but I know my brothers never go down without a fight, and they’re all full of fight.”

“Yeah, okay.” Throwing back the lukewarm drink, I fight off the tears. Things have to be okay.

***

Hearing the rumble of engines, I’m off my seat and to the door in an instant. Stumbling my way through the door, my heart beats wildly.

I watch the parking lot start to fill, and my heart claws up my throat. I’ve spent the last few weeks worried sick, and stressed beyond reason, but nothing compares to this moment.

I look for Rocky.

Through watery eyes I search, but come up empty.

Gutted. My body feels hollow and empty.

“Where’s Rock?” I ask a man I don’t know. He shrugs and shoves past me.

No.

No.

On shaky legs, I walk across the lot towards a few trucks mixed in with the bikes. At this moment, I wish I were religious. I pray, hoping beyond on all hope that someone answers my prayer. I promise things and I beg.

Rounding the trucks, I see him. I sway, my legs going weak.

“Rocky?”

“Babe.” His face is bloody, and his hands look like shredded meat, but he’s breathing. He’s
breathing.

His face is stern, worn.

I lose it.

“Don’t do that shit, El.” His eyes soften and his voice loses it’s edge.              

“I-
I
, just, I just can’t help it. You’re okay.” I stutter over a sob. He’s breathing. Bloody, but breathing…he’s alive.

“I’m okay, baby.”

I throw myself at him. I hold him to me and promise myself I’m never letting him go. He’s stuck with me forever.

Stories

Rock

“Tell me everything.”

We could be here a while if she wants a play by play, but I’m not gonna lie, a while sounds damn good right now. Forever sounds a lot fucking better than that though.

No one is one hundred percent sure what the hell happened today. As usual, shit was a riot of people and a mess of fuckery. An ambush or a setup, whatever it was, ended in dumb luck for us. Took the Raiders and the Ryders out with only minor injuries. Somehow, shit just worked out in our favor.

Worrying is not something I do well. I was sick with the shit all day, selfishly worried I’d never get to see Ellison again, never get to feel her or hear her voice. I can’t die. I couldn’t do that to her.

Somehow, Dan and everyone were able to get to us. T and I gave ourselves up in hope to prolong it. A gun battle would have ended in seconds. I knew the bastards would want to drag it out and fuck with us, and it saved our asses. Dan got there in time.

“Babe, you know about as much as I do.” That’s a lie, but why burden her with more shit. I promised myself I wouldn’t let this shit weigh on her.

“You can do better than that,” she laughs, resting her head on my shoulder.

At my place, in my bed, I keep her close, but she’s also keeping me closer. She’s clinging to me, and I’m happy as hell about it.

“The prospect was a rat, workin’ for the other club, feeding them info for a patch I hear.”

“That’s shitty.” That’s an understatement.

We’ve gone through a hell of a lot of prospects. Some work and some don’t. Not once in fifty fucking years have we had a rat. We had a good run, but now it’s time to start fixing the holes and repairing the damage.

“Yeah, babe, it is.”

“My brother?” I knew that question was coming. Fuck, I just don’t have the heart to tell her. Shrugging, I say, “I’m not sure, babe.”

“He’s dead isn’t he?”

“I’m sure he is.”

“Oh.”

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Sad for him.”

“Wanna talk about it?” I ask, even though I sure as fuck don’t want to.

“Maybe later. So what else happened?”

“No more story time.”

Ellison frowns, but it only lasts until I flip her ass over and cover her with my body.

“I need me some Ellison right now.”

“Just right now?” she asks, cocking a brow.

“Right now. Tomorrow. For fuckin’ ever.”

“Promise?” she smiles and I melt.

“On my goddamn life, baby.”

Rock

There is nothing better than the smell of barbeque in the air. Nothing quite like a cold beer on a hot as fuck day either. But nothing, and I mean
nothing
can top Ellison in a bikini. It’s a fucking sight.

“How the fuck’d she squeeze her ass into that thing?” Tyler asks, laughing. I’m glad he finds it funny. I wonder if he’ll find it funny when I drown his ass in the pool.

“How the fuck have I not killed you yet?” We’re friends, but that doesn’t mean I won’t kill him for looking sideways at my girl.

My girl. More like, my
old lady
. Finally. Took ten plus years, but we finally got there. Took some scary shit to put us in the right place, but it’s a done deal.

“Luck,” he shrugs, pulling a lawn chair up next to mine. “Dumb fuckin’ luck.” Dumb is right.

Kicking back, feet propped up on the pool railing, I watch El, Lennon, Lala, Sam, Lil, and Cali float around on beach floats, laughing at each other. Summer finally showed up and we’re all happy as hell about it. It came screaming in, right around July. Hot as hell and muggy as shit, but you’re not gonna hear much complaining from anyone after the snow we had.

Barbequing and relaxing, we’ve got some of the guys from Washington here, some from down South, and a few from the North. A celebration of sorts, for the fact that we survived the cold
motherfucking winter.

Sometimes we just need to recoup, remind ourselves we survived some shit no normal motherfuckers could. We congratulated each other on not ending up six feet under.

Rampage takes up the space next to me, claiming the old lounger. That asshole is never too far from Lala, but really, I’ve got no damn room to say shit. After what happened with El, you’ll usually find me close behind her. I’m not taking any chances this time around.

“Drink me!” El shouts, paddling over to the edge of the pool. Her hand’s out, fingers wiggling, demanding her drink.

“The fuck do I look like to you? Your pool boy?” I don’t get up. I don’t do a goddamn thing.

She smiles and nods slowly. “Uh, yeah.” 

T laughs and Poncho joins him. “Shut the fuck up,” I tell them half-heartedly. I’m too full and too hot to bother hitting either of them.

“Come on, Rocky.” she whines.

I heave myself out of my chair, walk my ass across the back lot, and get Ellison her drink.

Walking back over to the pool, I bend down and hand it to her. She takes it and smiles. Her eyes shining in the sun hits me square in the gut. I don’t know what I’d do if I never got to see those eyes again, or that smile.  

Her drinks are consisting of the non-alcoholic variety now.

“Is swimmin’ even good for the baby?” I know about as much about babies as I do purses, which isn’t shit.

“What do you think she’s doing in there? She’s swimming.”

She
. I’ll never get used to that. A daughter. What the fuck am I gonna do with another El? I swear I met my quota with El. Apparently, I’m being punished.

I’m not gonna lie, I’m scared as fuck, but not El. She’s so goddamn happy, and if she’s happy, I’m happy.

“What do you mean she’s swimming in there?”

Everyone laughs, but I don’t. This baby business is stressing me out, but there’s no one I’d rather do it with than El. She promised me I could, so I’m gonna have to take her word for it.

“I bought you that book.”

“And I tossed that book the fuck out.”

“Rocky. You promised me you’d read it.” Fuck, she’s got me there. I didn’t toss it out, but it’s covered in grease rags in the shop.

“Yeah, I’ll read it.” Only for El and
our
baby.

The baby showed up about the same time spring did. I wasn’t ready then, and I’m not ready now, but I’m fucking excited and nervous; about every other uncomfortable emotion possible. I may not be ready, but I’ll get there with El helping me along.

El’s everything I want and need. Her, my baby, and my brothers, that’s all this motherfucker needs in life. Everything else, I can figure the fuck out as it comes.

I’m not a white picket fence kinda guy, but Ellison is my white picket fence, and I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing about it.

“Love you, baby doll.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Reader. Writer. Crazy person. Lover of all things home décor and the color black.

Jaci J lives on the coast in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her lovely, but crazy family. If she's not reading or writing you can find her wandering the isles of a home store or hanging out with her monster son.

She's the author of The Hell's Disciples MC series and The Sick and Twisted Love series.

You can find her on Facebook:
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or her website: https://jacijauthor.com