6. Riot
RIOT
The motor court sat six miles west of the shooting, far enough off the main road that a stranger could disappear for a night.
Mace checked the room while Havoc drove past twice to make sure we hadn’t brought company. Anna stood beside me beneath a faded awning, one arm folded across herself. Her other hand kept reaching toward the cuts on her cheek before stopping short.
The adrenaline drop had hit hard. Her face was pale after the ride, and she’d gripped my waist hard enough to leave half-moon marks through my shirt. I wanted the pressure back because it proved she was there.
Mace came out. “Room’s clear. Owner left a first-aid kit, and I’ve left some of your clothes inside. Rook says stay dark until morning.”
“Anything on the truck?”
“Stolen and dumped behind a feed store. Nothing clean tying it to Gravewater.”
“Tell him I’ll call after Hale,” I said.
Mace handed me the room key. “Get that arm cleaned before the damn shirt sticks to it.”
He and Havoc left. I watched their taillights disappear, then took Anna inside.
The room was clean in the way cheap rooms became clean after enough bleach. One bed, two chairs, a small table beneath the window and a grocery bag with some T-shirts and toothbrushes.
Anna looked at the bed. “Subtle.”
“Want me in the chair?”
“I want to deal with your arm before you bleed on everything.”
“It stopped.”
“Take off the shirt.”
I locked the door, closed the curtains and removed my cut. The sleeve had dried against the graze. Pulling it free started the bleeding again.
Anna swore. “For fuck’s sake, Riot. Sit.”
“You get bossy when you’re scared.”
“And you get irritating when you’re injured. Apparently some things survived the breakup.”
I sat on the edge of the bed. She opened the kit, found saline and gauze, then stepped between my knees to clean the wound. The bullet had taken skin from the outside of my upper arm without digging into muscle. It hurt, but not enough to deserve the care in her hands.
“This will sting,” she said.
“Do it.”
Saline ran pink down my arm. Anna worked in silence, wiping grit from the raw line. Her fingers stayed steady until she found a piece of embedded concrete, then her breath caught.
“You could’ve been killed.”
“So could you.”
“Because I went to that stupid meeting.”
“Because somebody tricked you. Don’t do their work and blame yourself.”
She looked at me. “That sounds almost reasonable.”
“Don’t repeat it.”
Anna pressed fresh gauze over the graze. “Why did you save me?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“An honest one. You’re furious with me. You don’t trust me with your club, and half the time we’re together you look like you’re deciding whether to argue or put me against the nearest wall. Why throw yourself over me?”
“I wasn’t going to stand there and watch you die.”
“Why does that matter if you hate me?”
I caught her wrist before she could tape the dressing down. “I hate what happened. I hate what you believed about me. I never said I hated you.”
The room went quiet except for traffic on the county road.
“You acted like you did,” she said.
“I acted like being near you didn’t tear the scab off.
” I released her wrist before honesty turned the grip into a plea.
“First month after you left, I rode past your place enough times to know when the porch bulb burned out. Then I stopped using that road because I’d see you come home and spend the next hour wanting to knock on the door. ”
Anna lowered the tape. “I thought you never came back because losing me was easier than explaining yourself.”
“Nothing about losing you was easy.”
“I changed the porch bulb and kept watching for your bike anyway.”
“Would you have opened the door?” I asked.
“Then? I don’t know.” She touched the dressing again.
Anna’s phone rang on the table. STONE filled the screen.
“Answer it,” I said. “Don’t tell him where you are.”
She put it on speaker. “What?”
“Where are you?” Stone asked without greeting.
“Safe.”
“Rusk found your SUV near County Road 14 with bullet damage around the service station. Witnesses saw Wraith bikes leaving. Did they take you?”
“Nobody took me. Someone shot at me and Riot got me behind cover.”
Stone paused. “Riot was there before the shooting?”
“Yes.”
“Then he knew where you were going.”
“He followed me.”
“Or arranged the lure.” His concern sharpened. “Tell me where you are. Gravewater will collect you.”
“Who told you about County Road 14?”
“Rusk found the vehicle.”
“I didn’t ask who found it. I asked who told you to look.”
Another pause. “We’ve got men tracking Wraith movements.”
“You’re more interested in my location than the shooters.”
“Because you’re still in danger.”
“Then find out who sent messages from Hale’s number.”
The silence changed.
“What did Hale tell you?” Stone asked.
Anna’s gaze met mine. “Good night, Stone.”
She ended the call and turned off the phone.
“He went straight to what Hale knew,” I said. “Didn’t ask who touched his phone or what happened to the shooters.”
Anna looked at the dark phone in her hand. “He wanted my location and Hale’s information.”
“Ask yourself why.”
Anna sat beside me with the dark phone in her hand. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”
“Then don’t pick a side tonight.”
She looked at me. “That’s surprisingly patient.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
She almost smiled, but it faded when her fingers found the edge of my dressing again. The shooting had stripped something out of both of us. There was still anger between us, but it no longer filled every available space.
She finished taping the gauze, fingers brushing the edge of the dressing. “You apologized for what you said about Crow.”
“It was a cruel way to say it.”
“Do you think he’s dead?”
“I think Stone wants us to believe Crow walked away until he decides a body helps him more. That could mean Crow’s already dead. It could mean Stone is keeping him somewhere. We don’t know, and I shouldn’t have thrown the worst possibility at you because I was angry.”
“Thank you for saying it plainly.”
She stayed between my knees. The anger that had carried us to the kitchen counter was gone, and touching her without it felt more dangerous.
Anna bent and kissed the uninjured side of my shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Something I want.” She put her palms on my chest. “You can tell me to stop.”
I looked at her for a long second. “I’m not going to.”
Her mouth touched mine, slower than the kiss in her kitchen. No collision. No challenge. I could’ve taken control in one movement, but I stayed seated while Anna set the pace. She kissed the scar at my chin, the place she’d once known well enough to find in the dark, then moved down my throat.
Her fingers opened my jeans.
“Arm okay?” she asked.
“Forget the arm.”
“I won’t.”
She pushed my jeans and shorts down far enough to free my cock, then went to her knees between mine. The first warm stroke of her tongue destroyed whatever I’d planned to say. Anna wrapped her hand around the base and took the head into her mouth, eyes lifting to watch the effect.
She released me long enough to look up. “I’m doing this because I want you.”
“Then keep going.”
Anna smiled and took me deeper.
Her mouth was hot and deliberate. She knew I liked pressure beneath the head and used her tongue there while her hand worked the length she couldn’t take. Pleasure drew tight along my spine. I watched her rather than closing my eyes, the slow movement of her lips and the hand braced on my thigh.
“Anna.”
She hummed around me.
I swore and caught her shoulder before control went. “Up.”
“I wasn’t finished.”
“You were about to be.” I brought her to her feet and pulled her shirt over her head one-handed. No bra. The sight of her breasts tightened my grip on her waist. I kissed one, drew the nipple into my mouth and felt her knees weaken against mine.
Anna stepped out of the sweatpants. Plain black underwear from the grocery bag, bare skin and her hair loose around her shoulders. My grip tightened on her waist.
I hooked my fingers into the fabric and pulled her underwear down, then she climbed onto my lap, knees braced beside my hips.
“You’re in charge,” I said.
“That’s new.”
“Don’t get sentimental.”
She took my cock in one hand and lowered herself. The pressure built slowly, tight heat accepting me inch by inch while she controlled the depth. My injured arm stayed loose at my side. I gripped her hip with the other and let her choose everything.
When she reached the base, both of us stopped breathing.
She rose and sank again. Her rhythm began slow, each descent taking me deep enough to make my good hand tighten on her.
I kissed her breasts, taking turns with my mouth while she rode.
The motel bed complained beneath us. Anna planted one hand against my chest and used the leverage to increase the pace.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
I caught her mouth, swallowing the sound. My hand moved from her hip to the curve of her ass, not setting the pace, only following it. Anna’s hair came loose around her shoulders. Sweat shone between her breasts. She stayed upright, eyes on mine whenever pleasure didn’t close them.
Anna reached between us. Her fingers found her clit and began a steady circle.
“Tell me what you need,” I said.
“Stay still.”
Every instinct in me hated the order, but I obeyed anyway.
She rode me faster, thighs working against mine while I held her with one hand. Her breathing shortened. I felt the first flutter around my cock and fought not to drive up into it.
“That’s it,” I said. “Use me.”
Her head tipped forward, forehead resting against mine.
The orgasm built through her instead of striking all at once.
Her muscles tightened in rolling contractions, each one gripping me deeper while she kept moving.
I held her safely through the tremors, then planted both feet and gave her the thrusts my body had been demanding.
Anna gasped and took them, arms closing around my shoulders without touching the wound. I drove up once more, came hard and stayed buried while the last pulse passed between us.
She stayed on my lap after, face against my neck and my hand spread over her back. When I softened, she shifted enough for me to remove myself, then pulled back the blanket instead of reaching for clothes.
“Lie down before you tear the graze open.”
“Bossy.”
“Injured.”
I lay on the outside of the bed. She settled beside me on her stomach, one hand resting below the dressing. She didn’t reach for clothes or distance this time.
Her breathing slowed while mine didn’t. I watched headlights move behind the cheap curtains and finally stopped pretending anger had done what I wanted it to.
When Rook first said Crow was missing, my first thought had been who would tell her and whether she’d be alone. Anger had never replaced the love. It had only made it easier to carry.
I’d never stopped loving Anna. I’d only learned how to love her while I was furious too.
The admission should’ve felt like losing another fight. Instead it felt like putting down something I’d been carrying so long I’d forgotten the weight.