Page 26 of Taming Riot

Epilogue

Nine years later

Sasha

The phone call comes just as I’m putting the twins to bed for their afternoon nap. I gesture to my mother to keep an eye on them, and she simply dismisses me with a nod. She doesn’t even spare me a glance as she watches her grandbabies, and I roll my eyes as I leave the room. It never fails to amuse me how different my mother is with her grandchildren. She is still just as cold and calculating as she’s always been, but my kids have her wrapped around their little fingers.

As I step out onto the wooden porch of the cabin, the sun’s gentle rays warm my skin. In the distance, I can just make out the men at the edge of the lake, their fishing rods bobbing in the water. The lush green trees sway in the breeze, creating a soothing melody of rustling leaves, and I soak it all up a little before finally taking the call.

A familiar, panicked voice comes through the speaker. “Oh, Miss Sasha, my life is ruined. I’m going to jail,” cries the young man.

“What? Johnny, calm down and tell me what’s wrong,” I say to the kid on the other end of the line.

Johnny is a teen who just started training with my husband at the club’s repair shop, and although he is almost as tall as my husband, he is still just a kid. He’s expressed interest in joining the MC, and Riot has taken him under his wing, which makes the thought of him getting in trouble upsetting.

“I talked to Riot about it, and he said I would probably get six to ten years in prison. He told me to call you, that maybe you could help me somehow.” His voice cracks, exposing his youth.

Although he can’t see it, I nod sympathetically. “Of course, Johnny,” I say, my eyes crossing to my husband, who, along with my father and brothers, is perched at the edge of the lake, drinking beer and fishing. I have a suspicion that they’re not actually fishing but using it as an excuse to get away and talk politics. Turns out, my “criminal” husband has quite the mind for it, and over the years, my father and brothers have come to value his input.

We’re on vacation, and they still can’t give it a rest, I think with an eye roll.

Even so, that does not stop me from admiring my husband. Dressed in his jeans and a black t-shirt, Riot stands out from the other men in my family. He has a rugged way about him that always sends my blood pumping harder, and today’s no different.

As if feeling my gaze on him, he turns around and looks back, a shudder rushing down my spine at having his attention on me, even after all these years together.

Christ, it’s been nine years. Riot and I have been married for nine years, and we even have three kids together. A seven-year-old girl and three-year-old twin boys, and yet . . . one look from him, and I already want to be pregnant with his child again.

“Miss Sasha, are you still there?”

Shit. “Still here, Johnny. Tell me what the problem is.”

“Well, you see, I recently got my motorcycle, and yesterday, I went out with the boys and had one too many shots. So, I decided not to ride while drunk, right?”

“That was a good decision, Johnny,” I say, trying to stay attentive to his words, but my attention is already drawn to my husband, who’s gotten up and is approaching me.

“So, I left my bike parked at a spot close to the bar, and today, I realized I left in a handicap spot. There was a ticket on the wind deflector, but it’d rained and I couldn’t read it. I called Riot, and he said I’d have to go to court and would probably be jailed for breaking the law.”

I bite back a chuckle, glaring at my husband as he approaches, but at the same time, stepping down to meet him. “He was just teasing you, Johnny. You’ll get a fine, and that’s it,” I assure the terrified kid.

“You sure, Miss Sasha? I’m not going to jail?”

“Of course not. Now rest easy and make sure you don’t park in any handicap spots anymore. If you’re going to be drinking, call a ride instead of taking your bike.”

The kid assures me he’s learned his lesson before hanging up. I slide the phone into the pocket of my dress and approach my husband, slapping his chest when he’s close. He simply laughs and wraps his arms around my waist, drawing me flush against him.

“I can’t believe you would scare that poor kid like that,” I tell him, flashing him a mock glare.

“Hello, wife,” he says in his most charming tone, leaning down and brushing his lips softly across mine. “These kids need to be scared once in a while, so they don’t repeat their mistakes.”

“Says the man I met outside a police station.”

“Touché.” He smirks, and I suck in a sharp breath. Christ, that look does things to me. It did very bad things to me the first day I met him at the station, and after nine years of being married, nothing has changed. “I’m a reformed man, darling.”

To be fair to my husband, he hasn’t been arrested since we got together. I went through his list of crimes, and there was nothing too serious. Sure, he’d been in plenty of fights, but he’d never started one. He’s stayed out of trouble in all the time we’ve been together, but I figure that is also a perk of being married to the governor’s sister. I have to give him credit, though. Riot’s been determined to set a good example for our kids, and between him and my family, my babies have the best support system they could ever get.

“Where are the kids?” Riot asks, looking over my shoulder.

“The boys are taking a nap, and Annie is in the kitchen charming the chef into giving her sweets.”