Chapter 1 - RIOT

Aged twenty-five

New Orleans Correctional Facility

"Apparently you have a visitor?" Priest announces. He's known in the joint as Shadow but now goes by Priest. Well, he's not really a Priest, of course, but I call him that because he's about to prospect for the NOLA Rebels MC. My motorcycle club. They're looking for a spiritual adviser, and while Priest isn't exactly a man of God, I think after his time here that's gonna change pretty quick. I'll get his club name to stick, and since he owes me he has no choice in the matter.

Unlike most of the men in here; he's a good guy. We've had each other's backs.

I'm in for almost beating this dude to death because he liked to beat up on women. One of them was a friend of mine, and I don't like shit like that. The asshole had it coming. My hearing is in a few days, and I have a good attorney, thanks to Charles.

"Great. Could do with a conjugal visit right about now. Shit gets tired watchin' your back in here."

Nobody wants to think about getting jumped in here, but lucky for me I made friends quickly and we've got each other's backs. Still. You really have no friends in the joint. As long as I keep that contraband coming in, they'll stay loyal. Lucky for me I have friends in very low places.

He snorts. "Like that's gonna happen."

"Hey, I'll have you know I broke hearts when I got locked up. Wouldn't be surprised if they're linin' up outside, waitin' for a turn."

"Please don't make me sick before lunch."

"What I'd give for one more night with Delilah, or Sparkles, or Lolita."

"Sparkles? What did she have, glitter covered tits?"

"She's sunny. You know; sparkly . You've been in here way too long, brother."

"No shit, the fact you're gonna be out before me doesn't fill me with much hope gettin' out alive."

I know he worries about it, but the men in here have his back, just like they do mine.

The one thing I do have going for me in prison, is the fact I'm protected because I'm a Rebel.

It holds a lot of weight around here, and while some would be quick to fight you and take you down, they know on the outside there ain't nothing but trouble waiting if that were to happen.

"Don't be hard on yourself. You know my boys will stand behind you, especially after we took out that asshole The Brute. Now you're the kingpin."

"Only trouble with that is keepin' up appearances."

"You'll be okay. You survived this long and you knew nobody."

He goes into quiet mode and it's best to let him be when he's like this. I know he's got a lot to think about and which way he wants to go when he gets out. Personally, joining the NOLA Rebels is a privilege, and not something to sit on for too long.

While I wait in the visiting room, I drink a cup of coffee and wonder if I'll ever see sunlight again. I mean, the asshole didn't die. I should be thankful for that, but the devil on my shoulder tells me I should've finished the job. If only the police knew what I really got up to

For the last few weeks Charles has been visiting. I purposely told him to keep Lace away. She doesn't need to see this shit. She also doesn't need to hear about how watching your back in this place is getting harder and harder.

I'm surprised when it isn't Charles I see coming into the visiting room. It's Cash. He's been like a father to me ever since I started with the club several years ago. He knows about what I used to do for a living, and I have no regrets.

Right after I graduated high school, I realized college was never gonna be for me. When I was kicked out of military basic training which earned me my nickname ‘Riot', I took a journey into the land of the morally gray and corrupt underworld. I was the best shooter in my class and I thought I was destined to be a sniper, and I was, just not for the military.

I told myself I was only taking out the garbage, moving around from city to city working for the mafia and other corrupt crime organizations. The great thing about being a ghost was nobody knew who I was. My sister was protected under the legal guardianship of Charles, so none of that led back to me. Putting her, or Charles, in danger was never an option. But I made good money, and I was good at my job. It was kinda surreal, if I'm being honest, seeing shit on the national news about an assassin terrorizing the streets of Chicago. I took out a crime lord on behalf of the Russians, it wasn't like I took out the entire organization, though it stopped the Chicago underworld from going into disarray. The Bratva may be ruthless, but at least they have rules in place.

In any case, those underworld assholes all had it coming; that's what I told myself. Killing isn't an easy thing, but maybe I always had anger issues to begin with. I can't think why. Funnily, it's always been toward men. Women I have no issue with, in fact, sometimes I think it's my mission in life to protect every damn woman I know.

I give Cash a chin lift as we clasp hands. "Thought someone sent me a conjugal visitor. Didn't expect to see you here."

"Sorry to disappoint." He smirks.

"You good, Prez?"

He glances around the room, then thumbs behind him toward the door. "Be better when we get you outta here. That sniffer dog experience will go down as one of the highlights of my day."

"Those K-9's get right up in your balls."

He snorts.

We sit facing each other at one of the tables. In this facility, it's a lot like a high school cafeteria, with chairs, tables and vending machines. I always fuckin' forget to bring coins for the damn thing. I've been at other facilities that have a counter that winds around the room, the prisoners sit on one side, and visitors on the other. There are a few others in the room, but it's not busy mid-week. I see a couple of kids at the table nearby and shake my head. I don't care what people say, this is no place for children.

Cash looks concerned; his eyebrows knotting together. "How you been?"

I lower my voice to a whisper. "Better than most. Only helped eradicate one inmate so far."

He points at me. "Watch your back, son. I want you outta here alive. With Shadow if he can help it."

"Oh, I renamed him Priest."

"You're shittin' me?"

I shrug. "Kinda suits. He's a good listener. I'm not sure how close to God he is right now, but he don't take no shit in here. The man has the ability to control an entire room just by bein' present, never seen anything like it."

"Just the kind of man we need. The Brothers need someone to bounce off. Sick and tired of hearin' them all bitch and moan like little school girls."

"He's gonna be gettin' out in a few months." Priest got caught beating up his stepfather. The guy was a piece of shit to begin with. So in a lot of ways, we have a lot in common. It was deemed self-defense, but they still gave him six months.

Nobody likes prison, but he's like a trapped bird. Me? I'm used to living in confined spaces and hating everyone around me. At least here I get fed three times a day and have a decent hot shower every night. Still. It's not like I don't wanna get out, but I never worry about anything.

My mom always said to try and use humor to get out of any situation before using violence, and for the most part I've tried to do that. Then again, maybe I didn't heed her advice since my previous occupation included killing people. Trouble is, I did also inherit my father's temper; it's something I'm aware of and because I never want to be anything like that asshole, I keep that anger buried deep inside. In truth, sometimes I'm afraid of what might happen if that monster is unleashed.

I do talk a lot to try and get out of shit, and Priest always tells me to shut the fuck up. Even though a lot of men inside want in the NOLA Rebels, Cash wouldn't accept any felon that wants in just for the sake of it. He's picky with who he lets in his club. Most of the men in here will never set foot inside the Rebels MC, but if they want to go on thinking that there's a chance they might and it protects my back, then I'm not gonna argue with that.

"Gettin' out and stayin' out are two different things." Cash tilts his head. "The only reason he's gettin' to try out as a prospect is because of you."

"Aww, thanks Prez, you do like me after all."

"If I didn't like you numb nuts, I wouldn't have dragged my ass out here to visit now would I?"

"If you liked me you'd have brought a sweet butt instead."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Pussy is what got you in here in the first place."

"Not entirely true, I wasn't fuckin' her. She's a friend."

"Since when are you and women friends?"

"Since I met her."

"What's her name again?"

"Tequila-Rose. Or just Rose to most people."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

I snort. "It's okay, Prez. If we got anythin' out of this, it's the fact you know I'll protect the women of the club with my bare hands if I have to."

"There's a reason why I keep you in this club, thanks for remindin' me."

"When you get an ol' lady, maybe you won't be such a grump."

He looks up. "Grump? Try fuckin' dealin' with a bunch of teenagers day in, day out, then you'll see how much fun it is. As for ol' lady? Told you before, I'm done with women."

His last ol' lady was a real fuckin' disaster. She hooked up with his step-brother, Razor, and told him the kid she was carryin' wasn't even his. The kid ended up dying during childbirth, but I think that would have an impact on you. The feud with his brother, however, is ongoing and has been for years. Someday soon, that idiot will have it coming and he will pay. Everyone has to.

"Uh, huh, you're just the pinnacle of chastity over here," I chuckle. "Now you're old and your hair's turnin' gray, that'll have all the chicks linin' up."

"It's silver, and some say it's distinguished, not fuckin' old. Remind me why I came here again?"

"Because you've always had a soft spot for me and you're secretly worried about me bein' too pretty in here?"

"Don't joke about shit like that."

"If you can't laugh, you'd cry."

He narrows his eyes, giving me that serious ‘dad' face. "One day, that smart mouth of yours is gonna get you into even more trouble."

"Like this isn't bad enough?"

"You left the guy breathin', that's the only reason why you're gettin' out."

"Like he didn't deserve it."

"Yeah, but your ego got in the way. Could've left it, walked away after beatin' him, but you had to go one more and drag him out onto the street."

"Hey, I was on a roll."

"Not sayin' that asswipe didn't have it comin', but you're gonna have to reign in that temper of yours." The muscles in his jaw tick. "I was you once, kid. A long time ago when I was in the Devils Ink MC. One percent life back then was no life. Always lookin' over your shoulder. Wonderin' when it was gonna be your turn to meet your maker. I don't want that for you."

I'm lucky really, to have people in my life that care this much about me. It's more than I could ever ask for, and probably more than I deserve. "I'm good, Prez. This was a slip."

"The next slip could be death row. Think about that."

I nod. This isn't the time to keep making jokes. Even I know when to quit. "Not like I wanna be back in here for any length of time. When Priest gets out, he can help me. I know he'll be good for the club."

This appeases him for the moment. We all know that having someone like Priest in the club will only help the brothers and let's face it, nobody wants to admit they have problems or want to talk about shit, but having Priest on the inside has helped calm me. He has that effect on people. It's a gift. I wonder suddenly what my gifts are? Of course, if you asked Delilah, Sparkles or Lolita they'd tell you I have plenty of gifts. They're just not ones I could add to my resume.

"That remains to be seen. For now, just try and keep your sorry ass alive."

I rub my chin. "For my next visit just send Delilah. She'll keep my sorry ass more than alive."

He shakes his head. "Seriously. Ass jokes in prison?"

"Got knives where people will never find them."

"Keep your mouth shut and your eyes and ears everywhere. If I get you outta here alive it'll be a goddamn miracle." He goes to stand.

"You got some change for the vendin' machine?" I wasn't gonna ask, but since he's been such a stick in the mud, I thought I'd try my luck.

He fishes around in his pockets. "It's like havin' a child."

I grin. "One that never leaves you. I'll be home soon, Dad."

"Wise ass." He hands the change over, and then his voice drops. "You need anythin' to get by, you let me know."

I nod. "Got contacts. Gettin' shit movin' around long enough for me to get outta here, and for Priest once I'm gone."

"Good."

The club don't deal in illegal shit, but it's amazing what inmates will do for a cigarette.

I open my arms wide for a hug and his shoulders shake from laughter. "You gotta death wish, I swear to God."

"What? Most people think you're old enough to be my dad, so?"

He slaps me upside the head. "Second time in one visit you've called me old."

I laugh as he one-arm hugs me, unable to leave me hanging. "See ya on the outside."

"You bet."