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“It’s fuzzy,” he lied.
“Maybe you should ask him again.”
“Maybe you should tell me your version.”
Tugging off the ballcap, Riley sat down in the closest chair. There was the long version and the short version. She chose the short version. The version that didn’t include the entire crew from Muther’s. “I was walking out of the diner when I saw four guys jump you. I ran across the road yelling I’d called the cops.” She paused, watching him watch her. Damn, she loved the color of his eyes. They were the color of the Caspian Sea, light blue with a hint of green.
Beautiful.
Sexy.
Seductive.
Snap out of it, Riley.“What else do you want to know?”
“What happened after that? Did they say anything? Do you remember what they looked like? Anything that can help me track them down?” Preacher asked, wanting as much information as she could give him.
Riley shrugged, which was becoming her go-to response when it came to Preacher and his brothers. “Why don’t you let your club brothers track them down?”
“This,” he pointed to his stomach, “was done to me. To me, not them.” He was pissed that he was stuck in the hospital, unable to handle his own business.
“You need to heal before you decide to go looking for a fight.” Men were so damn stubborn. Kicking back in the chair, she watched Preacher lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling. If it was possible to feel someone’s anger vibrating off of them, she was sure it would knock her out the damn chair.
ChapterSeventeen
Two weeks later, Riley stood tapping her pen against her order pad. The table full of track whores were dragging their feet on ordering. It didn’t take a genius to figure out their entire order. They would ask for some fruity cocktail, and she’d have to explain they could have anything they wanted as long as it was a beer or a plain shot. There were no dirty Vegas martinis, no piña coladas, no mixers, and no twist of anything. “Ladies, I don’t have all day.”
“A round of light beer and one order of cheese fries.” One of the girls laughed.
Riley wanted to pull her hair out at the sound of the laughter. “Will that be all?”
“Yes.”
Turning toward the bar, she saw it was hopping. Temple was keeping the taps flowing and the conversation easy as people packed in. Riley knew Temple could handle the tipsy and the drunk. Years of working behind the bar taught her to have tough skin and to move fast.
Riley always told the girls they shouldn’t get wrapped up in conversation. One, it always led to trouble, and two, it was hard to keep up with orders when you were conversing. When people drank, they got brave. Or stupid. Putting the order in, she went to check on the new girl working the door. Mercury Silva was former Army and a damn good chick to have at your back. She called looking for a place to land and Muther’s had given it to her.
Popping her hip against the door frame, Riley took a sip of the water she’d grabbed from the bar. “Mercury, how’s the door treating you today?”
Mercury pointed toward the parking lot. “It’s about to get interesting.”
Riley looked at what Mercury was pointing at and cursed under her breath. A long line of motorcycles was pulling into the parking lot. Bikers came there for the cold beer, the food, and the races. But this wasn’t just any group of bikers. Oh no, this was not the average club out for a ride. No, she recognized the man at the front of the pack. This was the Gypsy Kings. “Can you stall them for me?”
“What would you like me to do, Riley?” Mercury cocked an eye at the shorter blonde.
“Just remember the rules that are posted.” Riley pointed in the direction of the sign.
“Got it.” Mercury smiled. She could definitely stall a few men.
Moving back through the bar, Riley went searching for Whip. She needed to give the entire crew a heads up. Her first stop was the bar, so she could tell Temple. She would let all the girls know the deal while Riley would find Whip and tell her they were about to have company.
Mercury leaned out the Dutch door, making sure her rack was oozing out of the hot pink, tight-fitting tank top she was wearing. Every man liked tits, and she had a nice pair. If anything, she could flirt for a few minutes. “Gentlemen, welcome to Muther’s,” she said as the group approached the entrance.
“Is there a cover charge?” Gypsy asked the blonde blocking their way into the establishment.
Mercury gave them a dazzling smile. “Yes. Twenty-five bucks.”
“For the entire group?” Gypsy asked her.
