Page 2 of Reaping Havoc
Nylah bit her lip to keep from laughing as the waitress huffed and walked away, losing her tip the moment she decided to judge me while I took my woman out to eat. People needed to fucking relax. Everyone fucked, and they all cursed. Why act so goddamned shocked when someone else did it?
Hypocrites.
My woman didn’t seem upset about it, so I let it go, digging into my heaping plate of sausage gravy, biscuits, bacon, and hashbrowns. It didn’t hit the spot like it usually did, probably because we didn’t go to our usual restaurant.
“Should have gone to Millie’s,” I mumbled, sipping on coffee that didn’t have the usual kick.
“It was full, remember?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t want Nylah to stand with her swollen ankles, and suggested we come here instead. While she didn’t have to wait to eat, the food was just okay, and the service sucked. No one at Millie’s would ever judge us or serve bad coffee.
There were two reasons Millie’s was the preferred spot. One, Millie was a doll. Her home-cooked meals rivaled the finest chefs in Vegas. Two, Mammoth, our club’s V.P., co-owned Millie’sDiner. Members were always welcome, and we seldom ventured anywhere else, preferring to support Millie and Mammoth, not to mention he also shared his family recipes with the diner—best goddamn food in Nevada if not the whole country.
And the coffee?Fanfuckingtastic.
I pushed my mug away, drinking fucking water with the remainder of my breakfast.
Nylah gestured to my mug. “Coffee from Millie’s to go?”
Thank fuck she suggested it. “Yeah, I’ll fill out the online order form.” I should have done that and picked up our breakfast, but it was hot as fuck out and I didn’t want Nylah to suffer in the heat. “You want anything else, kitten?”
She shook her head. “I’m full.”
After I placed my order for Millie’s, I paid for our tab and didn’t leave a tip. Didn’t care when I caught the waitress side-eyeing me for it either. Give good service and I’ll tip you well. If you don’t, you won’t get shit. If that made me an asshole, so be it.
As we approached the door, Nylah paused. “She’s on my bladder.” Her slender fingers tapped her belly. “I can’t wait.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“No need. I’ll be out in a few minutes,” she assured me, walking quickly toward the restroom.
Even if she said it, we both knew I wouldn’t go far.
I pushed outdoors but kept the front entrance in my line of sight as I pulled out a smoke and lit up, taking in nicotine before I got in the Range Rover with my woman. I never smoked around her or the boys, but I did get cravings that were hard to ignore. Some days, I didn’t smoke at all, but today I felt a bit antsy and needed the hit.
After sucking as much in as I could, I flicked the cigarette to the ground and stomped out the cinders, knowing Nylah would exit at any moment. I saw her through the windows as she left the ladies’ room and walked toward the entrance. She had topause when some dude stopped right in front of her as he stared at his phone, oblivious to everything around him.
Nylah tilted her head, and I saw her walk around him, but she only got a few steps closer before he stuffed his phone in his pocket and cut her off, heading toward the doors. I was already pissed at this motherfucker for doing that to her, but when I saw him push through the doors and not bother to check behind him before letting them slam backward, I got livid. The wooden doors nearly smacked Nylah in the stomach. She had to step back out of the way and then open them herself, glaring at the rude stranger as she left the restaurant.
One glance at her face and I knew I wasn’t going to keep my mouth shut. As my ol’ lady reached me, I guided her toward the door of our Range Rover and helped her inside.
“Rael? What are you doing?”
“I’ll be right back,” I promised, kissing her forehead before I closed the door. There wasn’t a need to explain; she’d see soon enough.
Spinning around, I stomped toward the guy who had been rude to my woman, approaching him with all the rage I felt. “Hey, asshole.”
He spun around, eyes widening when he noticed me. Maybe it was the cut I wore showing the Graven Bastards MC logo or the skeletal makeup I wore, but he immediately lifted his hands and took a step back. His phone slipped from his fingers and hit the ground, the screen cracking as it landed.
“Fuck,” he blurted. “What do you want?”
I pointed to the restaurant. “I took my pregnant ol’ lady out to eat, and you nearly slammed the door in her face and into her stomach.”
He swallowed loudly as he glanced at the restaurant. “What?”
“Are you fucking stupid?” I pointed to the Range Rover where Nylah could see us.
“She was right behind you, you fucking prick. Watch where the fuck you’re going in the future.”
