Riding the Line: Devil's Knights 2nd Generation, #2

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Indiana’s Sloppy Joe Recipe

Coming Soon

About the Author

Meet the Fallen Lords MC

Chapter One

Indiana

It was too busy.

People were everywhere.

I sighed and inhaled deeply on the cigarette in my mouth. The nicotine coursed through my system, and I finally relaxed. I liked the comradery from the girls, but damn if I just wanted to be alone sometimes.

The cement slab out the back door of the clubhouse had become a private place to go and clear my mind for a few minutes while I killed my lungs.

Don’t even get me started on Frost constantly being close to me. The guy hardly spoke to me unless he wanted information about Tanya or Bunny, but he was always nearby. I didn’t know what to do with him.

I didn’t know what to do with any guy, but Frost seemed different than the creeps and drunks who loved to watch me dance. It was like he saw past the glitter, makeup, and boob tassels. 

He was nice, and nice was something I never had before.

A branch cracked behind me, and I whirled around, ready to karate chop whatever animal was creeping in the small wooded patch of trees. An owl hooted, but I couldn’t see anything in the darkness.

Way to freak yourself out, Indy, I grunted.

An arm snaked around my waist, and a hand covered my mouth. My blood ran cold, and my body froze.

I’ve been waiting for you.

Dread washed over my skin like ice water. Why was he here?

Are you not excited to see me, I? he whispered.

Fucking Grit. One person I would never miss and never be excited to see. Ever.

I struggled against his hold. His arm tightened around me, and he pressed my backside to his front. You always liked to play hard to get, he hissed. Just a fucking tease dancing on the stage, letting them see but not touch. His lips brushed against my ear, and a shiver of disgust rolled over me.

Stop, I hissed against his hand.

Is this the way you treat me, I? We used to be so good together. Five years and so many good times.

Good times? Hardly. And I hated when he called me I. The name was Indiana. Or Indy.

I’m gonna move my hand so we can talk, but if you so much as breath too loud, I’ll bury your face in the dirt. Got me?

I nodded stiffly. I wasn’t going to scream. Five years of being with Grit had taught me he was capable of anything.

He moved his hand, and I inhaled deeply. What are you doing here? I bit off.

That doesn’t sound like you’re happy to see me, baby doll.

My skin crawled at the gross nickname. Anything that came out of Grit’s mouth was gross, though. I struggled against the hold he had around me, but his arm didn’t budge. Let me go, I insisted.

A chuckle rumbled through his body. Not until we talk.

Then talk, I growled. I didn’t care about anything Grit had to say. I stopped caring two years ago when I left him and Destin behind.

I see you lost the honey that used to drip off your lips, baby doll. He squeezed my side and leaned close to my ear. Used to love that honey.

How had I ever thought this man was attractive? Young and dumb. That was how. Grit had managed to pull the wool over my eyes when we first met, and by the time I figured out just what scum he was, I was stuck. Tell me what you want, Grit.

I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, I.

I glared at him. And that is my problem? I didn’t fucking think so. I had gotten out from under Grit, and there was no way in hell I was going back there.

Royal’s fucked, too.

My stomach dropped. No.

Grit released his hold on me. He knew I wasn’t going to scream or run now. Got into some shit.

What the fuck did you do, Grit? Royal was Grit’s sister, and also the only person left in Destin I cared about. Meeting Royal was the only good thing that came out of Grit’s and my relationship.

I’m gonna assume you haven’t talked to dear ol’ sister for a while.

I hadn’t. I couldn’t even remember the last time we had actually talked on the phone. Most of the time, it was a quick text asking how she was doing and not much else. Things have been crazy here. I haven’t had the time to talk to her.

Somewhat a lie. Things had been crazy, but not crazy enough where I couldn’t take five minutes to call Royal. I just never seemed to think to call her when the time was right.

Grit tsked. Not a good friend at all.

I wanted to punch him right in the fucking nuts. Repeatedly. Tell me what the hell is going on.

This back and forth bullshit between the two of us was not amusing to me.

Grit pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and stuck one in the corner of his mouth. I’m not even sure where I should start. So much has happened in a short amount of time. And for once, it’s Royal who fell into the shit, and now, I’m right there with her trying to get her out.

Yeah, he was going to get a punch in the nuts.

He lit the end of the cigarette and inhaled deeply. She has a boyfriend.

I tipped my head to the side. That was news. Royal had always been so anti-boyfriend. No, shit.

We hadn’t talked on the phone, but I figured that was something worthy enough for her to include in her texts to me.

He nodded and exhaled a cloud of smoke right in my face. Yeah. Except they broke up.

I rolled my eyes. You’re still a horrible fucking storyteller.

He shrugged. It’s important to know.

Then get to the point.

She had a boyfriend. They broke up. They then got back together. Then they really broke up. For real.

I closed my eyes and tried not to jab him right in the dick. Okay.

And now she is for real pregnant.

Talk about dropping a bombshell.

I couldn’t seem to get my jaw up off the ground. Say what?

Royal and I had both sworn up and down that we were not the type to have kids. A dog or a cat was about the level of dependency I could handle. At least with a dog, you could put it in a kennel when it was naughty. Kids, not so much.

He nodded. That ain’t even the shit of it, Grit laughed. Got fucking knocked up by Rider Meeks.

No, I gasped. You can’t be talking about the Meeks I think you are. Jesus Christ. God, please no.

Biff Meeks’ son.

Dread washed over at the name. Biff Meeks owned four car dealerships in the Destin area and was rumored to be heavily involved in the pipeline of trafficked kids and women from Florida to New York. It was a straight shot right up and down 95. There’s a trail of kids being ripped from their families to be sold for a few thousand dollars. As far as I knew, nothing was ever proven against Biff, but the rumors never went away as long as I lived there.

"Are you kidding me, Grit? What the hell was Royal thinking getting hooked up with anyone with the last name Meeks?"

Grit shook his head. I asked her the same damn thing when she hooked up with him, but she swore up and down that he wasn’t anything like his dear ol’ dad.

Fucking Royal. I bet she thought she could change him or some bullshit. Between Royal and me, she was the one who thought the best of everyone and didn’t judge a book by its cover. I, on the other hand, figured everyone was bad until they proved to me otherwise. Most never proved me wrong. I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed. So, what is going on now?

She told me she was going to tell Rider about the kid.

What did he say? I asked.

Grit shrugged. Don’t fucking know because I haven’t heard from her in a week. Tried her cell. Went to her apartment. Even drove over to where Rider was rumored to live, but nothing. She don’t answer when I call, and she isn’t at her apartment. I knocked on the door to Rider’s, but some old lady answered the door and said she didn’t know anyone named Rider.

Fuck. That was not what I wanted to hear. Did you go to the police?

Laughter boomed from deep in Grit’s gut. Are you fucking crazy? I know it’s been a couple of years since you stepped foot in Destin, but you gotta know Meeks has the fucking police department in his pocket. You really think I can walk up to the police station and tell them I think the last person to see Royal alive is Rider Meeks?

Son of a bitch, he was right. Well, I think that’s a better idea than coming here. What the hell do you think I am going to be able to do?

Grit shook his head. Not you, I. He pointed to the clubhouse. They are going to help.

Nope. No way. Grit was not going to blow into town and fuck up what I had going at Sultry Knights. I was building a new life, and there was no way Grit was going to mess it up. Besides, I wasn’t in with the Knights to the point they actually cared about me. Sure, I was holed up in the clubhouse because there was some psycho out there killing girls from the club, but it wasn’t because they liked me specifically. They were keeping us all safe just for the sake of not having to bury any more employees of the club. They’re not going to help you, Grit.

Not me, you, he sneered. You’re gonna get them to help get Royal back.

I shook my head. They’re not going to help, Grit. I’m not one to them. The only reason I’m here right now is because they don’t want another dead body attached to their name.

Well, you’re gonna have to figure out a way to make them help because they are the only people who can get Royal back.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Royal’s number. I don’t even know how the hell you found me, I grumbled.

Royal let it slip a while back that you found your way to Rockton and were shaking your ass on stage. Only one strip club in town, I. He nodded to my phone. And, she ain’t gonna answer. It’s gonna ring and go to voicemail.

I pressed the phone to my ear and listened to it ring seven times before Royal’s voicemail greeting played. Roy, it’s me. What the hell is going on? Call me as soon as you get this. I ended the call and shoved the phone back in my pocket. I had no idea what else to say. I’m not getting the Knights involved in this.

You gonna go toe to toe with the Meeks? Grit chuckled. Gotta tell you, you don’t stand a chance.

I curled my lip and growled. What about all of the hoodlums you used to hang out with? Get them to help you. Grit was always hanging out with scads of unsavory people when we were dating. I doubted that had changed in the past two years.

Grit shook his head. I don’t trust anyone in Destin. Fuck, I don’t trust anyone who lives within five hundred miles of Destin, period.

I cocked my head to the side. Bullshit, Grit.

You haven’t been home in a while, I. Shit has changed.

Something else Royal didn’t tell me when I talked to her. How can things have changed that much, Grit? We lived in a shitty part of town, and you were a dick. That change?

Town got shittier, and I managed to grow up a little bit. All the lowlife pieces of shit I used to know moved on to shittier things while I’ve managed to hold down a job that leaves me little time to eat, let alone sleep.

I rolled my eyes. That was something I’d never believe. Grit being an actual decent human being? We need to call the police, Grit.

That was our only choice. The Devil’s Knights were not an option. I was not going to fuck up my new life.

Do I really need to go over this again with you?

Then I’ll go to the police here. Destin police can’t ignore Royal missing when another police station is telling them about it.

Grit shook his head. Ain’t gonna fucking work, I.

I held up my hands. Well, it’s at least a fucking plan. Right now, the only plan you have is to tell the Devil’s Knights they need to get Royal. There is absolutely nothing in it for them.

Well, since you have all of the answers and my idea is shit, I’ll just leave you to it, Indy. Grit turned on his heel.

I reached out and grabbed his wrist. Wait.

He glanced over his shoulder. "I ain’t got time