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Riot (Predators MC 1)

Page 29

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“Don’t think you’re going to pretend I haven’t had this pussy. That shit don’t cut it with me. And don’t think I won’t have it again, because I’ll prove you wrong.” His hand gave a final squeeze before he rose to his feet.

He felt her eyes lower to his cock straining at the thin material of his pants before she turned her head away. Ice chuckled, moving away and going around the stack of chairs. Jackal and Max both turned to him, their expressions carefully blank.

“Let’s get this over with. I’m ready to go home.”

* * *

Grace lay back down on the mat, curling into a ball. She was ashamed of her body’s reaction to Ice. It’s just sexual chemistry, she told herself over and over again. Her body had been frozen in limbo for so long it had jumped at a chance for release. She was a normal woman, and Ice had all the characteristics she found attractive in a man.

He was a traditionally handsome man like her father and brother, his rugged looks giving him a masculinity he shared with them. No one would accuse Ice of being metro-sexual; he was a man with a body and experience, which tugged at the femininity she had suppressed.

She felt ashamed of herself. She had no doubt she could have stopped Ice at any time, but she hadn’t. She had wanted him to touch her. Now, she lay regretting that decision with her whole being. He was a criminal, and when she did get out of here, she wanted no contact with him at all. Her family would have her committed if she introduced them to Ice.

Her rumbling stomach forced her up, and she saw the faint trace of sunlight coming through the window. Max had given her a cup of macaroni and cheese to eat last night, but now she was hungry again. She didn’t think much was left from the store that the prisoners had been steadily looting.

Max and Jackal were both waiting for her when she came from behind the chairs. She briefly wondered how long they had been standing there. From their blank faces, she didn’t think it had been long.

When she came out of the restroom after cleaning up, Jackal was waiting for her with a cup of coffee and another microwavable pastry.

“How…?” she asked, taking a seat at an empty table.

“Ice hid a few things for you. If you want anymore, let me know,” Max said, sitting down next to her and tearing into one of his own.

The other prisoners stood around the room, tensely watching them as they ate. Grace felt the pastry sticking in her throat, so she took a sip of coffee to wash it down.

“I think they’re hungry, too.”

“Fuck 'em.” Max was unconcerned, finishing the one in his hand then opening another.

She looked up at Jackal who was standing at her shoulder. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“No.” Grace expected the terse answer; Jackal didn’t believe in wasting words.

“How come you have food and we don’t?” One of the prisoners dared to step closer and mouthed off to Max.

“Ice rationed the food out. It’s not my problem you’re a pig and ate all yours, Maddox.” Max pulled a can of soda out of his pocket and opened it at the gaping man.

Ice came to the doorway as Maddox reached across the table and tried to wrench it away from Max. Grace gave a small scream as the room became engulfed in fighting again. This time, when she was pulled from her chair, it was Jackal. He maneuvered her against the wall, barricading her from the fighting taking place. Grace could barely see over Jackal’s shoulder as she watched the inmates fight.

The prisoner they had freed from solitary knocked buzzard to the ground. Buzzard managed to get to his feet and knocked the man back before pulling something from his waistband. As the man rushed him, Buzzard stabbed him in the side. Unable to watch further, she buried her head between Jackal’s shoulder blades.

The next thing she heard was the sound of gunfire and voices yelling for everyone to drop to the floor.

“Let me go, Grace.” Jackal’s voice penetrated the veil of terror she was encased in from the violence that surrounded her. She hadn’t even realized she was clinging to Jackal’s waist. “Let me go!” Jackal’s voice was raised to be heard over the yells of the officers shooting anyone who remained standing.

“Get down and put your hands out,” a voice in front of them ordered.

Grace released her hold on Jackal, and he immediately lay down on the ground, spreading his arms and legs out.

There were at least fifty swat officers in the room, standing over the men with guns.

Frantically, she searched for Ice and saw two men standing over him. His eyes met hers as one of the officers reached down and cuffed his hands behind his back.


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