Riot (Predators MC 1)

Ice wasn’t crazy about all the flowery stuff, but as long as he didn’t live surrounded by it, it didn’t matter to him how she liked to decorate.

Grace came back into the room, wearing jeans and a sweater large enough for two women to wear. Her feet were covered in bright-pink socks that matched the colors of her fucking flowers. She sat the smaller dog on its feet, ordering him again to behave when he rushed at Ice’s feet, growling.

“Sorry. He’s very protective.”

Ice stared down at the dot now gripping one booted foot between his sharp little teeth. “I can see that.”

The other dog just watched, not moving.

“The kitchen’s over here.” She went through a doorway, and Ice followed with the dog hanging onto his boot. He was tempted to hurl the little monster across the room, but behaved himself, convinced it would destroy any chance he had with Grace if he killed her dog.

He liked the kitchen even less than the living room. The bright yellow almost hurt his eyes.

“What would you like to eat? I can make us some sandwiches and soup, or I have a frozen pizza I can heat up?”

“The pizza is fine.”

She nodded, opening the freezer and taking out the pizza.

“I always keep one for CeCe when she comes over. Sometimes we watch movies together and she’ll sleep over.”

“Sounds good to me.”

She stopped tearing open the pizza, her mouth hanging open.

“I was just joking, Grace. Put the pizza in the oven.”

Ice wandered back into the living room, turning on the television set. Flipping the channel, he found a football game and settled down onto the couch. It might be ugly to him, but he had to admit to himself it was extremely comfortable.

Grace came to the doorway. “What would you like to drink?”

“I don’t suppose you have a beer?”

“You’re in luck. I have some my brother and father weren’t able to finish off before they left.”

She left, and Ice watched the game until she brought him a beer and set one down for herself on the coffee table.

“We can eat in the kitchen.” Ice started to stand up.

“Sit back down. We can eat in here.”

Ice didn’t argue, relaxing back against the soft cushions. The couch was growing on him.

The little shit jumped up onto the couch after several tries, sitting down on its hind legs and staring at him. The bigger one came to investigate and saw where it was sitting then fell across his feet, laying its massive head down on its front paws. Ice determinedly ignored Grace’s pets, losing himself in the game.

It didn’t take long before she was putting their plates on the coffee table.

Ice reached for one of the thick slices.

“Be careful. It’s hot,” she warned.

Ice didn’t care; he was starved since he hadn’t wanted to take the time to eat before he had left Queen City.

The hot pizza warmed him. He finished the first slice then started the second before she was halfway through her first slice.

“What did you miss the most when you were in prison?”

Ice swallowed the bite of pizza he had taken, wondering if she was just curious or if she wanted to build a wall between them.

“Gert’s barbeque ribs,” he answered truthfully.

“Gert?”

“She’s a woman who’s been a part of the club since before I joined.”

“How did you become involved with the Predators?”

Ice debated on how much to tell her then decided to give it all to her.

“I left home when I was fifteen. I lived on the streets of Queen City for a couple of years, working at a few jobs that would pay me enough to keep me in food and clothes, but not enough to pay for a place to live.

“One night, I was tired of sleeping on the ground behind a restaurant, so I walked around until I found a car that was unlocked. It was late, so I thought that whoever’s car it was wouldn’t come out until morning. I crawled into the back seat and fell asleep.

“I was awoken by a woman shaking me. I tried to take off running, but she grabbed me by the hair, pushed me back in the car, and got in with me. I thought she was crazy as shit, and I was a small kid. She told me to calm down, that she wasn’t going to call the cops, and then asked why I was sleeping in her car. I told her. Then she told me she knew where I could stay, and they wouldn’t charge me any money. I was street-smart by then and told her no thanks. She gave me the address anyways and told me that, if ever I needed a place to stay, it was there. I took off.

“About a month later, I got hurt. Another homeless man had stabbed me, trying to take my shoes while I was sleeping. I was sick and hungry enough to go to the address she had given me. It was the Predators’ clubhouse. Gert stitched me up and introduced me to all the brothers. I’ve been there ever since.”