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I couldn’t help thinking about Jaymi and how she has no weekends. Every other weekend with Lili was better than not having her at all.

I found myself taking the long way back to the MC. I made my way through the quiet Hills neighborhood and riding down Jaymi’s street. I wouldn’t stop. I wouldn’t knock on the door and ask for a drink of the aged whiskey she had in the cupboard. I wouldn’t ask her to sit in the dark with me. I felt like I’d been alone a long time, until two nights ago.

Maybe there was a bit of stalker in me. Maybe I just needed to know she was okay. I slowed as I rode past her house. The curtains were closed, and her car wasn’t in the driveway.

Rather than going back to the MC, I pulled into The Bearded Goat. Lili had wanted pizza, and I needed a beer. I wasn’t breaking my promise. I’d get a pizza for her.

Cars filled the parking lot. This wasn’t my typical scene. There was a screened in patio in the front of the building. Tables surrounded a large firepit in the center of the outdoor seating area. People milled about outside, waiting to be seated. I passed a couple of guys smoking cigarettes. Fuck, a cigarette sounded good.

As tempting as it was, I passed by and entered the dimly lit restaurant. People waited on benches near the door. A young girl with a septum piercing and tribal tattoos on her face stood behind a podium.

“It’s about a forty-five-minute wait for a table,” she said. “How many are in your party?”

“Just one.”

“Oh.” She smiled wide at me and leaned into the podium. “Do you want to sit at the bar? There’s no wait.”

“Sounds good.”

She walked close to me, her thin tattooed arm brushing against mine, and her boots clunking against the old, distressed tile flooring. “Friday nights are busy, but mostly with bigger groups. The bar stays relatively quiet. It’s still busy, but you’ll be able to order right away.”

Just what I needed. A beer, a pizza, and to read over the papers tucked against my chest inside my cut. Every fucking word until I understood what I was up against.

The bar was to the left in a quieter alcove. There were pub style tables scattered around the room, and several empty seats at the bar.

I realized the girl was still chatting to me. “You can order from the menu or there are pub specials. Tonight, it’s For Richer or Porter with a thin crust Wise Guy or an Ironhorse Bock with deep dish Stromboli. You can sit wherever you want.”

“Thanks.” I chose a seat at the end of the bar near the television mounted in the corner with the game on. A mirror stretched the wall behind the bartender, and photos of pop culture icons decorated the walls.

I’d barely glanced at the menu the server handed me when the bartender asked for my order. I just wanted a plain cheese pizza, Lili’s favorite, and a sour beer from the tap, but everything on the menu had a unique name. “I’ll get a Margherita pizza and a twisted ale.”

Once I was alone in my corner again, I pulled the restraining order from my pocket. My hands shook as I opened the paper. I glanced around, making sure no one would read over my shoulder.

A cocktail of anger, humiliation, and fear surged through my veins. Accusations weren’t always easy to defend. It would be her word against mine. I was fucked. The first page listed the county, petitioner and respondent which was me, and court information.

The document listed my restricted behaviors. No contact of any kind, including social media. No contact with the school, including attempting to bypass the order by contact through third parties. I couldn’t ask Jaymi about my kid.

Finally, no weapons.

Technically, not a problem. The weapons I carried were unregistered. But I couldn’t be reckless. Not with Nat putting me on the radar of the local PD. Cops had hard-ons for guys like me. Tatts and trouble, flying Heller colors on a Harley.

I wouldn’t catch a weapons charge. Until this shit with Natalie was adjudicated, I’d play by the rules the court imposed. I’d get Dozer to store my piece in the weapons locker.

The bartender set my beer in front of me but didn’t linger for conversation.

My phone vibrated with a text.

Kodiak: Where you at? Jazzy is going to have your ass.

Friday night at the MC was mandatory.

Steele: I’m running late. I’ll be there.

Eventually. I lived at the MC. Would I be there for church? The jury was still out. And if I caught shit from the SaA, I’d deal with it. Not much could be worse than this.

Kodiak: Hearse is here.

He followed it up with another.