Chapter 36 Riot
Riot
Fuck my life.
One serious woman is harder than a string of one-night stands.
I stomp across the yard from the house to the barn.
If Kelsey had been standing there, listening to my conversation with Ro long enough to pass judgement—and not overreacting to what was essentially an innocent peck between friends— she would have heard me tell Ro that I’m not interested in anything happening between us.
Instead, she’s making mountains out of the smallest issues. What the hell is that about? And she won’t come out of the bedroom.
When she locked the door in my face I was tempted to bust the damn thing down.
I’m here with her because I want to be. Because she’s the one I want to be with. Just because I haven’t told anyone outside of my brothers or posted it all over social media yet doesn’t make my commitment any less real.
Relationships—real ones—are hard.
My jaw is so tight my teeth ache, and my head feels like it’s starting to crack down the middle. I need a drink and a joint. I don’t care what Rebel thinks I should be doing.
West is already in front of the bartender. If anyone is having a worse night than me, it’s him.
“Doing all right?” I clap West on the shoulder as I join him in hunkering over the bar and watching the server pour a couple fingers of whisky into a tumbler. “That was brutal.”
“What was brutal?” There’s a dare in his eyes.
“Dizzy...” I glance over my shoulder to see if the new law enforcement on my case is still here. “And the agent.”
He steeples his fingers and taps the tips of his pointer fingers together in time with the tic under his eye. “Nothing happened.”
“We don’t need to talk about it.” I sure as shit don’t want to talk about Kelsey’s ultimatum.
I’m still bristling. Thinking about it makes me grind my teeth.
Sonatina has been bothering her. That woman is making me look like an asshole.
But Kelsey’s my best friend. She’s known me too long to think that’s the kind of guy I am.
The server adds water to the tumbler of whisky.
I can barely stand Sonatina at this point. I sure as shit don’t want to fuck her. I’m taking her calls because she’s Carmine’s daughter, and my fucking stalker has decided she’s a target. That’s all. I’m not flirting with her. She’s ruining my fucking day.
I gesture at the bartender to make me the same.
I don’t drink a lot, or care what I drink, as long as I have a nice blunt available.
But when it comes to supporting a brother in his hour of need you show that support by drinking what he’s drinking.
“Our brothers would prefer to drink it straight out of the bottle.”
“Our brothers are heathens.” He picks up the glass when she puts it in front of him and takes a drink. “I have a more refined palate.”
I draw the tin out of my back pocket and start playing with it, needing to do something with my hands. “So, you and Dizz—”
“We’re not talking about it,” he says coolly before draining his drink. He indicates to the server that he’d like another.
“No, I know we’re not talking about it. But in a general roundabout sense... you’re dating your sister.”
His lips twitches, and I get the sense that he doesn’t mind me as much as he seems to mind our brothers. “Hardly.”
“She calls you brother.”
“So?” He arrows a brow, daring me to push it.
It’s not my place to have an opinion, but I’m curious.
“You’re forgetting I’m twenty-seven to her twenty.
” He rubs his finger over the compass he has tattooed on his hand.
“And my father is a sadistic and evil bastard who manipulates every truth to fit his narrative. She calls me brother, not because I was ever her brother, but because she likes to provoke me.”
“She likes getting under your skin.” I chuckle. That fits what I know of Dizzy so far.
“It makes me want to remind her just how not her brother I really am,” West says with a bemused smirk at his drink. “If you know what I mean.”
“I got you, man.” It’s all kinds of twisted, but it’s the most he’s willingly disclosed in the time I’ve known him. “Look at you, learning to share.”
“Don’t get used to it.” West watches me out of the corner of his eye. “What about you and Kelsey?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Hmm.” He settles into silence while I roll the joint into a perfectly cylindrical smoke.
I pinch the tip. “Want some? Or do you not partake?”
“Not tonight.” He takes another swig from the tumbler.
“Drink.” Rogue steps up on West’s other side. “Make it a double.”
West turns to him.
“Ivy knows I’m holding something back.” Rogue drums his fingers on the bartop. “Do you know how much I hate that I couldn’t come out and tell her about the goat?”
“If you tell her she’s going to get more freaked out,” West says. “It’s one more day.”
“Two,” Rogue says. “Too long. And you know about the goat as well?”
“It came up while Rebel and I were talking to the FBI.” Whoever is behind it is a problem we need to deal with. “I’m almost certain it has nothing to do with me.”
“Summer said you have a stalker.” Rogue shakes his head. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.”
“Didn’t want to freak you out,” I say.
“Who’s the man in black?” West asks.
That’s an oddly specific question. “Simon Lane. Why do you ask?”
“I want to know the name of the man that had my Dizzy’s tongue in his mouth.” His brows are drawn tight and there’s violence simmering under them.
“Forget about the FBI agent. We need to work out who killed the goat,” Rogue lowers his voice.
“Because I cannot keep this from Ivy for two more days. We were on a call with Dr. Keller and the woman asked me if I was holding anything back. Doubts, concerns, that kind of thing. Ivy took one look at my face as I tried to work out how to tell her, and she knew something was off. And this is after Bianca decided to throw herself a drama party and tell Ivy we used to be friends with benefits.”
“She didn’t know? Didn’t that come up the night Ivy realized how identical you and Rebel actually are?” Until Rogue reassured her she’d be able to tell the difference because of Rebel’s piercing.
“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t think it needed to be clarified.”
“That seems like a bad decision on your part,” West comments while watching the bartender fix our drinks.
“I should have known better, considering Bianca’s antics.” He downs the fresh drink the server puts in front of him. “Refill.”
She nods and busies herself with the whisky once more.
“Where’s Ivy now?” West asks as the woman fills his cup as well. “Leave the bottle.”
“She said she was going to spend some time with the girls. Do a little slumber party and try to relax and get some sleep. The trail ride and party tired her out and she wanted to make sure she was refreshed for tomorrow. But I’m pretty sure she knows I’m keeping something under wraps and she’s rethinking whether she should marry me. ”
“Bro, that’s nerves talking.” There’s no way these two aren’t tying the knot. They love each other with all that they have. They’ve been through more than anyone I know. “Everything is going to go as planned.”
“I hope so.” Rogue picks up his drink and follows me outside into the yard.
West comes after us with the bottle in his fist.
Flames leap from a pit, crackling in the darkness before they dull to ash.
“I know so. It’s obvious to anyone looking in.”
“It’s that poor goat.” Rogue takes a seat on a haybale. “If we had any clue who was behind it that might make it easier. I could sandwich the bad between good. But giving her more to fear and stress about... that’s hard.”
I stick a joint between my lips and light it. The paper hisses at first scorch and then settles into a slow burn. The smoke fills my lungs and softens the tension in my shoulders and neck I’ve been carrying all day.
Fuck. Love is complicated, isn’t it? You think you have it figured out, then realize you never had a fucking clue. “So maybe you shouldn’t tell her?”
“No. I’m telling her. It’s just she’s already stressing about Alec and Nicole on top of everything else. I don’t want to stress her out more.” His phone buzzes, the screen lighting up. “The girls have decided to go for a drive and get some air.”
There’s plenty of fresh air right here.
“I don’t think the goat has anything to do with Ivy,” West says, catching our attention. “Or you, Rogue.”
I point at my chest. “You think it’s meant for me? But there wasn’t a note. No lyrics. Nothing to suggest it’s my stalker. A stalker who didn’t know I was coming here. Rebel and I already discussed this.”
“Dizzy suggested, and I agreed, that it might be meant for Summer.” West stares into the flames. “I was going to talk to Rebel about it, but he’s been impossible to get alone. Those Hearts are constantly watching him.”
“Summer does hate coming home,” Rogue muses. “Learned that today.”
“Because bad stuff happened here.” She’d told Ro about it that day we went to ask her to help us get Rebel out of jail. About the assholes who assaulted her and got away with it even when she reported them.
“Put it in the bros before psychos chat.” Rogue takes a drink.
“He needs to be aware. We face this shit together. I’ll tell Ivy in the morning.
If that means we never get married, then so be it.
No marriage should start off with babe, by the way I didn’t tell you there was a psychopath at our wedding. ”
“And if it isn’t?” West asks.
“Then we’ll adjust. If it’s Riot’s stalker, then we have the FBI here. If it’s one of Nicole’s schemes, we’ll deal with that too. It’s not like we can’t handle whatever comes our way. We’ve been through worse.”
“You shouldn’t assume that,” West says, his gaze flat.
It’s weird the way he is so calculating and emotionless sometimes. Especially after a moment where I’ve almost forgotten he was raised a Hawthorne. It’s disconcerting.
“What’s the story behind you and Dizzy anyway?” Rogue asks. “And what was with her tonight?”
“I’ll be answering neither of those questions.” West pours more whisky into his glass and offers me the bottle. When I decline, he holds it out to Rogue.
“Come on. Give us a little hint.” Rogue takes the bottle. “How does one end up knocking boots with their pseudo sister? Stepsister? Imposter sister? Kidnapped and adopted and raised pretend sister?”
“How does one end up setting fire to their brother?” West asks coldly.
“Okay. Ouch.” Rogue shifts away from the fire. “No need to get hostile. I was curious. Is it an open relationship? Are you both allowed to kiss other people?”
“You’re a dick.” West stands. “And I have better places to be.”
“Fine. I’ll stop giving you grief,” Rogue says. “Just sit down, have another drink, and commiserate with us.”
“One more drink,” West says.
“To the women we will die for,” Rogue takes a swig from the bottle and passes it to me.
“To the women we will change for,” I add and take my own mouthful.
“To the women we will kill for,” West says. “Even though they torment us at every turn.”
“The fuck?” Rogue’s eyes widen.
“That was dark.” Some would say ominous.
“So what are you planning to do about the FBI agent?” Rogue asks as he takes the bottle back. “Because if your answer is kill him—”
“I’m not going to kill him.” West rests his elbows on his knees and massages the back of one hand with the other. “As long as he sticks to doing his job and keeps his eyes off my sunshine, I won’t do a damn thing.”
“And Dizzy?” I ask.
“How I handle her is none of your business.” He smirks. And that one look is so much like Rebel and Rogue that Dizzy might have created trouble just to get this reaction. She seems like the type.
My night is going to be spent on the couch in the Hearts’ sitting room, hugging a pillow and pondering how long I’m willing to let Kelsey stew after issuing that damn ultimatum.
“You should deal with it,” Rogue says.
“What?”
“Whatever happened between you and Kelsey that has you loitering out here with us instead of being wrapped around your woman.” He turns to West. “Their relationship is new. At least being somewhat out in the open is. Could you spend that much time away from Dizzy in the beginning?”
“Shit.” He smirks again. “I can’t now. But then, she has a way of getting into trouble.”
“Babysitting is different.”
West laughs. It’s a rusty sound, like he doesn’t do it much.
“Rebel’s not here.” I hold my glass out to Rogue for another shot. “Is that why you’re pretending you hold the dad card instead of pouring me another drink?”
“Eh.” He tips his head and pours me another drink. “Try me.”
“She gave me an ultimatum.” I toss the liquid back. “She thinks I’m not as in it as she is.”
“Are you?” West asks.
He hasn’t been around long enough to realize I don’t do anything I’m not a hundred percent about. If he had been, he wouldn’t ask.
“Of course he is,” Rogue answers in my place. “The question is, what are you going to do to prove it?”
Fuck me.
What am I going to do?