Page 118 of Fighting a Riot

He rolled his eyes. “It’s far from romantic, Nora. Especially since your drink was tampered with that night.”

I leaned back, shaking my head. “No it wasn’t.”

He nodded. “Yeah, it was. We reviewed all the security feeds that had Prime in them. That motherfucker messed with your drink. Though from what we can see, he fucked up. Had his eye on a blonde that was with you—”

“That’s Sofia. She’s a friend of Mia’s.”

“Yeah, well, he looked real confused when she left on her own, sober as could be.”

My head reared back. “Wow, guess I took one for the team, huh?”

Irritation settled over his face like a flimsy mask. “You aren’t taking one for anybody any more. Got it?”

I scooted forward on his lap. “Yes, Mr. Protective. I got it. But, I guess I’m kind of glad Prime fucked up.”

“Nora.”

My eyes widened at him. “Yak, think about it. If he hadn’t fucked up, I probably wouldn’t have wandered off to that room, and you wouldn’t have found me.”

“I’m not thinking of it that way, princess.”

The doorbell rang followed by persistent knocking.

“Who could that be?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m about to school them on patience.”

Through the windows, I heard Mom’s voice. “Yoo-hoo, Nora? You didn’t pick up your phone or text me back.”

I shot to standing. “They’re early!”

“Fuck,” Yak said.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head and stood. “Nothin’. Had something else to tell you, but it can wait until later. Let’s meet your mom and Gary.”

Gary and Yak were out on the patio grilling burgers, which were going to be done any minute.

Mom added sliced cucumbers to the huge salad and tossed it. She caught my eyes as I grabbed silverware to set the table. “The first thing we have to do, Nora Rose, is find a reputable pawn shop. We completely forgot to handle that when we were down here last time.”

“You had other things to handle when we were here, Cheryl, like Elenora’s surgery,” Gary said, carrying in a tray of burgers.

Yak set the spatula in the sink. “What do you need a pawn shop for?”

Mom’s eyes twinkled when she grinned. “That awful engagement ring, of course.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from pointing out how much mom gushed over the ring last year.

She glanced my way and cocked a brow. “Don’t give me that look, Nora. I know I loved that ring, but it’s not the glitter in the stone that matters, it’s the feeling behind the gesture.”

“It’s the thought that counts, in other words?” I asked, and gave her a closed lip smile.

Her chin dipped. “You could say that.”

Yak stabbed a tomato with his fork. “Tomorrow around mid-morning, she’s takin’ it to Hock. We’ll give her the best offer.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” I asked.

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