Page 3 of Fighting a Riot

He threw his arm out toward a blond brick building. “That’s the clubhouse. Not many bikes out here, so I’m guessing there aren’t many brothers inside. Should be quiet enough for you to get some sleep while your phone charges.”

I nodded.

He led me through the back door and up a flight of stairs which were to the immediate right of the doorway. At the top of the stairs, I realized it was sort of a loft area. I smelled fabric softener and laundry detergent coming from my left and I saw two washers and two dryers against the wall.

“Come on, Nora. You don’t have to worry about laundry, unless you want your clothes washed while you sleep.”

I followed him down a hallway with four doors along each side. For a moment, I felt like I was walking down a hotel corridor, but I knew better.

He stopped at the last room, unlocked the door and held the key out to me. “Go inside. You lock the door, nobody can get in. The only brother with the master key isn’t here.” He tipped his head toward the room. “I got t-shirts in the top two drawers of the dresser. You want your shit cleaned, leave it out here. Me or a prospect will handle it.”

I pressed my lips together, a strange sense of panic overtaking me.

He shook his head. “What’s wrong? Is it your phone?”

I chuckled, looking down at my high heels. “No. I promise I don’t cry about dead phones. Um…”

His finger grazed my jawline, tipping my chin up. “What is it, Elenora?”

The moment I left here, and once I figured out where I was going, I’d be alone. The promise of so many other people being around made me feel… more alive. Not that I wasn’t alive, but a cancer diagnosis makes a woman very aware of her mortality.

With a deep breath, I put it out there. “This is weird and forward, but I don’t want to be alone. Can you stay in the room with me? I understand if you have things to do or… oh, geez, you probably need to sleep, too. Never mind. Forget it. I’ll be all right. Better to get used to being—”

He dragged his finger –still on my jawline– to my bottom lip. “Hush. It’s fine. There’s a recliner inside. I can sleep there.”

I sighed. “I owe you so much.”

His face shifted up a touch as he focused on a point above my head. His coppery brown eyes held steely resolve when he glanced back at me. “It’s paying it forward, Nora. You’ve been dealt a really raw deal here. To get dumped so close to D-day and you’re gonna be fighting cancer.” He shook his head. “No. It’s the least I can do. And if for some fucked up reason, you’ve spouted a bunch of lies… then it won’t be the first time a gorgeous woman pulled a fast one on me.”

I wheezed out a laugh. “My makeup is smeared, my hair matted, plus I slept on a floor and it shows. I’m far from gorgeous.”

With very small movements, he shook his head. “Didn’t know you were wearing makeup, the ride on my bike fluffed your hair, and if I hadn’t found you, I’d have never known you slept on the floor. Take the compliment, princess.”

I smiled and nodded. “Thank you.” As I entered his room, I caught a whiff of my hair which had absorbed the cigarette smoke in the strip club. “Ugh. I hate to impose further, but I’ll have to take you up on that shower. I reek, no offense to your fine establishment.”

A huge smile spread across his face as he chuckled. I fought biting my lip because with that smile and his beautiful brown eyes, Yak would garner plenty of female attention.

“No offense taken, and don’t sugarcoat shit with me, Nora. The assholes who come into Platinum’s are there to do all the shit they can’t do at home –drink to excess, smoke, and drool over the tits and asses of women they’d never have a shot at, married or not.”

My brows went up, but I kept quiet.

His smile became a small grin. “That was my roundabout way of saying, ‘I get it’. Hell, I never get in my bed without taking a shower because I hate when my sheets smell like the club. Bathroom’s right there. I’ll grab you a towel.”

I went to the dresser and grabbed a black t-shirt, amazed at the tidy organization of the three stacks. Then I noticed his bed. It was made with what appeared to be military precision. Yak had hair longer than mine, I had a hard time picturing him as a military man.

Inside the bathroom, the counter around the sink was clean. My eyes skated along the vanity and I saw something familiar. A container of hair items, and just like mine, it was impossible to keep the hair ties from spilling out.

On a groan, Yak strolled into the bathroom. “Sorry about that.” He reached for the box and I stilled his hand. He looked at me. “If I’d known someone would be using my bathroom, I’d have put that away.”

Facing the mirror, I locked eyes with his reflection. “It’s okay, Noah. I’m amazed at how pristine your room is, your bed looks like the sheets have the tightest tuck –hotel housekeepers would be envious. Not at all what I expected from a biker.”

His lips quirked with a sideways smile. “Dad was in the military. He insisted on order, and it… hasn’t steered me wrong since.”

I nodded. “Well, I’ll do my best to keep everything shipshape, then.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, woman. You want your clothes washed though, leave them outside the door. I’m headed downstairs for five minutes. That way you don’t have to worry about me seeing you or some shit like that.”

My brows furrowed and I turned my head toward him. “Thank you, though, I would think you’ve seen it all, in terms of the female anatomy.”

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