Harm's Way: Riot MC Biloxi by Karen Renee (best e book reader .TXT) 📕

I exhaled sharply through my nose. “I didn’t have to fight with it, but yes. I can bring it back to your room.” A thought hit me and I lowered my voice. “Unless you’re planning for her to eat it, which is where I draw the line.”

His head tipped back and he laughed straight from his gut. I peeked up at him. My breath caught. He had the best smile, but when he laughed like that his smile hit the stratosphere with its power.

As quick as the laughter started, it stopped, and he nuzzled my neck. From the corner of my eye, I saw Layla staring.

“Get it and be quick, baby. I gotta talk to Layla, but I want you there for all of it.”

Two minutes later, as I trudged down the hall carrying the pot, I saw Har leaning against the wall outside his room while Layla leaned against the doorjamb shooting me a dirty look.

I took the pot into his room and put it on the dresser. To my surprise neither had moved away from the door.

Slowly, Har guided Layla into the room, closing the door behind him.

He moved toward me, and once I was in arm’s reach, he put an arm around my back, pulling me to him. His lips went to my neck, where he kissed me, then at my ear he whispered, “Don’t let her get to you, baby.”

He lifted his head while keeping me tucked to his side.

Layla stared at us, an unhappy look washing over her face. “I mean no disrespect, Har, but I only do threesomes with men. She’s pretty and all, but I prefer being between you and Brute.”

The way he exhaled, I knew he hid a sigh. “What color is your sister Callie’s car? It’s black, right?”

Her lips tipped up. “Yeah, but why—”

“And it’s an Audi. The low-end model, A3, right?”

Her face fell. “What? I don’t...”

“Answer me,” he snapped.

Her head shook a little at his words. “I don’t know, Har.”

“Bullshit.”

From the gleam in her eyes, I knew she was warring between being bitchy and showing him respect.

“The bullshit is you bringing me back here and grilling me with your latest side-piece around.”

“Need to watch yourself, Lay. How many times did Mass have to hit Wreck to break his nose?”

“How the hell would I know?”

He let me go and stalked to her. “Where’s our product?”

“What prod—”

“Get smart, bitch. You’ve disrespected me twice. I’ll have Brute kick your ass out. Where is the product from Massive’s bike?”

Her chin jutted out mulishly. “Fuck you and fuck this. Kick me out. I don’t give a shit.”

His eyes narrowed. He pulled his phone from his back pocket. “Stephie, stand at the door.”

I did as told, ignoring Layla’s angry eyes on me.

“You don’t care he shared women with your brother?”

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t talk to her.”

She glared at Har. “What makes her so damn special? Because she rides her own bike?”

Har had the phone to his ear. “Brute. Get two of the prospects and come to my room. Bring the jewelry.”

My mind tripped over why Brute would have jewelry, until I realized he meant bracelets – as in handcuffs.

The realization dawned on Layla at the same time. She squinted at Har. “It’s a shame the brick didn’t hit her.”

Quick as a snake, Har gripped her neck and shoved her against the wall.

“What the hell?” he whispered, his enraged eyes on Layla.

Her eyes filled with fear, and she didn’t speak.

“You threw that fuckin’ brick to hit my woman?”

My woman? Those words sent a frisson of warmth through my whole body.

Layla’s response derailed my thoughts. “I didn’t throw it. Diana, the blonde you brought back here a few weeks ago, did.”

I blinked to hide the hurt in my eyes. It was before he made his move, and since it was that brick which forced us together in his bed, I supposed I should thank the bitch. When I opened my eyes, Layla looked satisfied. But my growing smile forced her expression to falter.

Har looked at me. “Are you about to laugh?”

I chuckled. “I was fighting it, but yeah. I find it kinda funny.”

“You’re fuckin’ warped.”

I heard footsteps approaching and moved before Brute pushed into the room. The two prospects stepped inside behind him and closed the door.

“What the hell, man?” Brute asked, looking at Har’s hand holding Layla by the throat.

“Cuffs, man. This bitch isn’t answering my questions, but she knew who threw the brick through my window on Friday. Which tells me she knew Diana was planning that shit. Not very loyal to the Riot, now is it?”

Brute pushed his lips out in a judgmental pout. “No, sure isn’t.”

“Also won’t tell me about her sister’s car, which I recall is an Audi.”

One of the prospects breathed out, “Fuck, he’s right.”

Har looked to him. “What do you mean? Her sister’s been here once, and that was before you were even a hang-around.”

The prospect hesitated for a moment. “Remember that blonde who was all over Brute until you showed up? She got dropped off in an Audi. Hit me strange, but then with legs like hers I figured she could get anybody to give her a ride to hell and back.”

For some reason, his words about Diana hurt me more than Layla’s. Har glanced at me, read my face, and shook his head just a touch. I knew he didn’t want me to dwell on that woman, but that was far easier said than done.

Brute took hold of Layla’s hand. She tried to snatch it away, but Har’s knuckles grew more pronounced as he tightened his grip making her gasp. He didn’t let up on her until Brute had her restrained.

She coughed and spluttered, her eyes vicious on Har. She took in a big breath as she stopped coughing and I knew she was about to scream.

Brute noticed too, because he wrapped his huge mitt over her mouth. “Don’t even think about it, bitch. You didn’t just do a brother wrong, you did our president wrong and