Page 112 of Fighting a Riot

“That boy never learns!” she cried.

I thought the coverage was dying down finally, but maybe he was here to ream me out regardless.

Either way, I really wasn’t up for a confrontation this morning. Not without a whole lot more caffeine.

Yak jogged up the front yard, and I watched surprise fill his expression at the sight of a man on the front porch. He stopped just shy of the stairs, locked his fingers together, and cupped the top of his head. From the heaving of his chest, he was taking deep breaths. Destin turned around and Yak dropped his hands to his sides, his fists clenching immediately.

I hustled to the front door and heard his terse words. “You got some fucking nerve showing up here, asshole.”

Quietly, I opened the door but didn’t close it. I watched Destin cross his arms over his polo-clad chest. “No, you owe it to Nora to get her out of this house. Including the one behind it.”

Yak shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s your fault Nora was traumatized three weeks ago.”

“Traumatized?” he asked, unclenching his fists and setting his hands on his hips.

Destin rolled his eyes. “Yes, traumatized. She was held hostage for God’s sake.”

The local news had gone overboard sensationalizing the headlines surrounding the show-down between the Devil Lancers and law enforcement.

Yak kept quiet.

“You don’t even care that you caused her harm.”

In two strides, Yak stepped onto the porch. From the venomous look he aimed at Destin, I feared things were going to get ugly… or uglier.

I swung the door closed loud enough to get the attention of both men. It hit me I hadn’t dressed and I stood there in one of Yak’s t-shirts and my purple head wrap.

“About time you got back, honey,” I said.

Yak shot me a brief grin. “This asshole wake you up, princess?”

Destin frowned. One of his hands formed a fist and he threw it at Yak. He ducked just in time. As Yak straightened, he used his upward momentum to land a shot right at Destin’s nose.

Destin clutched his nose. To my surprise, it didn’t appear to be bleeding. “Motherfucker, you broke my nose,” he said in a muffled tone.

I glanced at Yak. “Wouldn’t it be bleeding if you broke it?”

He smirked. “Maybe, everybody’s different, princess.”

Destin glared at me. His eyes roved up to my headwrap and he loosened his grip on his nose.

I didn’t want to hear anything he had to say, especially not pity. “I don’t know why you showed up here to start with, but we’re over and you should go.”

After a long silence, he gave me a chin lift –Yak’s were much sexier– and he trudged back to his car.

“Feel better?” I asked in a low voice.

Yak closed the distance, shaking his head. “No. It’s like getting communion wine. You know it’s the real deal, but it’s so damned little it’s never enough.”

I grinned. “I’ll take your word for it, but I think it was more than enough and Destin definitely should have gotten the message.”

Yak came closer, droplets of sweat rolled down his face. I bit my lip. He chuckled. “Did he though? He doesn’t know you’re mine, and he doesn’t know I’d have put myself in your place rather than let you go through that shit.”

A stick snapped to our left and we both turned toward the sound.

Evan slowly made his way around the side of the house. “I was of the same mindset as that douche bag, but I see that’s wrong.”

---