Page 45 of Fighting a Riot

Zeke ambled up to us. “Did I hear you want a gin and tonic?”

“Let’s have rum-runners instead,” Kyla suggested.

“Okay,” Jemma said. “Five of them, Zeke. One for each of us.”

I shook my head and raised a hand at Zeke. “Not for me, thanks. Yak asked me to stick to beer.”

Zeke lifted his chin at me and turned to the shelves with the liquor.

“Since when does Yak like a woman who listens?” Jemma asked.

Trixie opened her mouth, but Kyla said, “I can’t believe he wants a woman who’s so docile.”

I bit my tongue to keep from speaking.

However, Trixie said, “Oh, she’s far from docile.”

“Really,” Kyla said, aiming a skeptical look at me.

Before I could say anything, Yak’s deep voice said, “Let’s go, babe.”

Looking over my shoulder, the small smile on my lips fell away at the serious set of Yak’s lips.

Jemma’s voice sounded coy. “Where would you like to go, Yak?”

“Wasn’t talkin’ to you, skank.”

I slid off my barstool and moved toward him. “Don’t we need to pay?” I asked in a low voice.

His hand cupped the back of my neck and I feared he’d kiss me again. Fear, because that wasn’t something Jemma or Kyla deserved to watch.

His lips brushed my ear. “It’s handled.”

“Abs, Trixie. Later,” he said, and guided us out of the bar.

Chapter 8

It Isn't Like That

Yak

On a Sunday evening, a week and a half later, Yak pulled into the back lot of the clubhouse. Their normal session of church had been canceled last week due to so many members going to Bike Week in Daytona. He put down the kickstand on his bike, swung off, and then put his small duffel bag into the trunk of his beat-up Kia Rio. His car hadn’t been driven in a week, and he didn’t feel like riding back from Platinum’s on his bike tonight.

Nora’s family had arrived last Monday, if the rental car in the driveway was any indication. Yak hadn’t spoken to her since bringing her back from the bar. He’d felt guilty about it until today. If he’d kept in contact with her, she would have insisted he meet her family.

They didn’t need to worry about her new neighbor on top of her health crisis.

He hit his room inside the clubhouse to put his phone on the charger. He wouldn’t need it during church.

On his way to the meeting room downstairs, he ran into Turk.

“Everything good at Platinum’s?” Yak asked.

Turk nodded, but his expression was troubled. “It’s good.”

“Why do you say it like that, man? It’s either good or it isn’t.”

After a long inhale, Turk said, “It’s only good because we got four brothers wandering the parking lot each night. Can’t keep that shit up forever. Hell, it’s gonna come up in church, and in the past two weeks there hasn’t been a single reason to keep them out until two in the morning every night.”

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