Page 102 of Fighting a Riot

“All right. At least we know where he’s going with her.”

The ease and nonchalance Volt used had Yak seeing red. “No, we fucking don’t, Volt. No disrespect but they don’t use their clubhouse for wet work any more than we do. He could be taking Nora anywhere!”

Volt shook his head. “Nothing bad is going to happen to her.”

Yak jerked to standing, upending the office chair in the process. “You don’t know that,” he yelled.

“Dial it down, Yak.”

His words from months ago rushed back to him. I won’t do that shit a third time. Yet he’d done it again. He was the very fucking person who forced Nora to ride with a rogue brother.

He glared at Volt. “I can’t fuckin’ dial it down, Volt! He’s got her. And I swore I wouldn’t be the reason shit got harder for her– but I am!”

The room spun as Volt grabbed Yak by the lapels of his cut. He fought against his president’s hold, but found himself shoved up against the wall.

“Pull your shit together, Yak,” Volt bit out.

His eyes widened. “I have to go get her. I’m gonna kill that motherfucker… I should have known!”

Volt gave him a slight jerk. “Pull it together! It’s daylight, we aren’t—”

“There’s no we about this! I’m getting her back. No matter what!”

“Won’t do you –or her– any good if you’re in jail for twenty fuckin’ years afterward.”

The door flew open and Turk stormed inside. “What the fuck is goin’ on up here? I can hear shit banging around downstairs, so that’s saying something.”

Volt looked at Turk but kept his hold on Yak. “Prime’s working with Ghost and the Devil Lancers.”

“And he’s driving Nora to fuck-knows-where.” Yak said.

Volt turned back to Yak. “We can’t go in half-cocked.”

“No, but I fuckin’ can.”

“No, you can’t,” Turk said. “We’re a brotherhood, we handle shit together.”

Volt tightened his grip on Yak. “You got your shit together? I need to call our brothers who are closer to the Devil Lancer compound. I can’t fuckin’ do that until I know you aren’t gonna haul ass out of here.”

With an exhale through his nose, Yak lifted his chin. “Yeah, it’s going to kill me. But I’ll wait.”

Yak ran his hands through his hair and the foreign feeling of it being short hit him again. That made him think of Fred and Sydney and Nora’s pixie-cut. He growled wishing he could do something. Knew something.

His cell dinged with a notification.

He pulled it out and saw a text from Nora.

Still at therapy.

The iron grip he had on his phone made his palm hurt and he willed himself to loosen his hold.

“What is it?” Turk asked in a low voice, closing the distance between them.

He shifted his jaw side to side. “Just got a text from Nora, but I know it’s that asshole. Says she’s ‘still at therapy.’ She’s never once texted me from an appointment.”

Turk nodded. “Which means she never made it to therapy.”

Yak pointed a finger at Turk. “I’m having a prospect toss that fucker’s room. He’s got any fuckin’ cash in there, it goes to Nora to pay the damned no-show fee that office is gonna hit her with.”

---