Page 11 of Fighting a Riot

“Nothing funny here, Nora,” Destin said.

That brought me up short. I glared at him. “Newsflash, jackass. I’m laughing to keep from crying. I’m laughing because every time I think shit can’t get any worse or more embarrassing, it freaking does. And to think, twenty-four hours ago, I’d have defended the size of your pencil dick, but right now… Trixie’s right, and it’s revolting. So, get some clothes on and get the fuck out of my way. I’m packing my shit, and if there’s a loving God in this universe, I’m never going to see your sorry ass again.”

“What’s with the naked bodies?” another male voice asked from behind me.

Destin’s hazel eyes blazed at me. “How many damned people are helping you move?”

“Not nearly enough, if you can’t get some damned clothes on.” Trixie said. “I was serious about that hand towel.”

Major, another brother in the Riot MC, was the man with the deep voice who showed up last to the ‘party’ in my former bedroom. He had a large pick-up truck with a fancy lid over the truck bed. I owed him a case of beer at least, by my calculations, because his fancy truck was the only reason my antique dining room table and Shaker nightstands weren’t soaking wet.

One of the prospects had suggested I just leave the heavy pieces behind, but there was no way I was leaving those nightstands. They were one of the last pieces of my father I had, and I wasn’t going to let someone as vile as Mia use them… or more likely, misuse them.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask Yak how he knew where we were going, but then I remembered Roll and Trixie telling me about the small carriage house.

I glanced at Yak. “So, we’re gonna be neighbors?”

He nodded. “Guess so.” His tone sounded reluctant. Then he asked, “Where’s your car?”

I took in a deep breath. Yak was establishing boundaries. That was a good idea. I needed those. Especially after the shitshow with Destin and Mia.

“My car shouldn’t be too far from your place. We went to a fancy restaurant near the corner of Park and Darcy Street.”

“The French restaurant?”

I nodded.

He glanced at me. “Whose idea was that? The… how did you say it, ‘cuntasaurus’?”

I laughed. “Yeah, no. That place was actually my idea. I didn’t want to do anything wild and crazy, but I hardly ever go anywhere fancy… and since I didn’t anticipate ever having a bachelorette party again… well, I figured go big or go home. Though, to be fair, I’d have preferred staying home.”

He shook his head. “Okay. We’ll drop the shit at your place, then I’ll send someone for your car.”

I shook my head. “I can get it. I’ll just walk. Google shows it’s like three blocks or something.”

He glanced over to me. “You aren’t walking in this rain. You’ll get sick.”

I couldn’t help my chuckle. “It’s drizzling, and we’re still a good fifteen miles away. Plus, I appreciate you being concerned about my health, but I haven’t started chemo yet. It’s not like I can make it worse… not intentionally, anyway.”

“Drinking until you pass out at a strip club doesn’t help.”

Good grief, his attitude had taken a one-eighty. I stared at the hula girl wobbling on the dashboard, and I willed myself to stay calm. “No, but I only had one glass of chardonnay at the restaurant. Then they gave me a glass of champagne with our dessert. I didn’t have alcohol at Platinum’s.”

He shook his head. “Even though we have a two-drink minimum?”

I turned toward him, admiring his profile even as I gave him a semi-fake smile. “Yes, and mine were all virgin drinks. The other ladies thought that was hysterical.”

He kept his gaze fixed on the road. “If you weren’t drinking, then why didn’t you drive to Platinum’s? And why would you fall asleep in a VIP room?”

My sigh couldn’t be hidden. I wished we didn’t have to talk about this. Everything up ‘til now had been embarrassing, but it was nothing compared to this.

Yak misinterpreted my silence. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you got roofied, but you remember way too much for that to be the case.”

We were passing by NAS Jax, so I looked out the window to gaze at the humongous planes they had outside the hangars during the day. There was something mesmerizing about watching the planes, even if they weren’t moving.

After a moment, I admitted, “I didn’t take it well when Destin laid things out.”

“Can’t imagine anyone would, Nora.”

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