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“Hell, boy. Is that how you hooked up with good-looking special ed here? That hit on your place and Colt’s old lady left you deaf?” Rock tapped his own ears.
Skye wished she knew how to kick him in the nuts hard enough to end his chance to reproduce. Or walk. She made a note to have Cyn show her how to do that.
She was glad Tiger didn’t catch the first part, though. While he still seemed like a flat sea, a maelstrom was brewing beneath those waters. Fortunately, Rock’s ear tap was enough that Tiger didn’t require further translation from her.
Tiger nodded, a noncommittal response. “We’ll go back to the race now. Sorry for the trouble.” His tone said he couldn’t give a shit what Rock felt about any of it, as long as it took them out of his path.
Brian was drawing Greta away, picking up on Tiger’s cue, but the way Brian hung back warned Skye it wasn’t done until the others walked. Tiger and Rock hadn’t moved out of their squared-off position. Rock studied Tiger like a schoolyard bully, thinking he needed to take a swing at a defiant kid to prove who was boss.
“Wasn’t a surprise when you bailed,” he murmured, eyes sharpening like a drawn knife. Brian and Greta couldn’t hear him, but Skye could. “Since your momma was fucking someone else, you’re probably not even his son. Maybe Big Mac should have taken you out with that same trash. Clean slate.”
People, particularly strangers, tended to say things in front of a mute person as if they thought they were neurologically impaired. Though she tried hard to mask her expression, everything inside her froze at the implication. Rock shifted a look toward Skye. “You tell him that, special ed. I’m going to look to make sure you said it word for word.”
All the turmoil she was feeling surged into anger, mixed with a healthy dose of fear. But not for herself. If Tiger realized what Rock had said…
She lifted her chin and met Rock’s gaze.Fuck. You.She mouthed it, then signed it.
Though she’d had a lifetime of studying body language, Tiger registered the change in Rock’s before she did. In a blink, he’d moved fully between the two of them, blocking Skye from Rock’s view.
Violence shimmered in the air. She was sure Rock and his crew were armed. Tiger traveled with a gun, but he’d left it at the camp, locked in the trailer.
She was sure Cyn would have something to say about that, too.“Yeah, just as useful as that panic whistle. Why have a carry permit if he’s not going to fucking carry?”
Their face-off was attracting attention, a knot of race attendees standing at a curious but careful distance. Not all of them looked boozed up and hoping for a brawl. Some looked poised to call the cops if it didn’t defuse.
Or maybe they already had. Off-duty cops hired for security had appeared, heading their way.
Tiger spoke. “We took care of the problem, Rock. We have no fight. This rally’s for old timers and families. People not part of your world.”
“Like you.” Rock spat the two words.
Tiger understood that. But instead of making him rise to the bait, the words seemed to drop an extra blanket of calm overhim. One Skye expected had been woven from long, painful experience.
“Since I was the one who walked away, I think I sent that message pretty clearly myself. Have a good time. We’re going to go do that ourselves.”
He took Skye’s arm. Brian and Greta preceded them as Tiger led her away from the bikers.
“Tell me if you hear anything that could be a problem,” Tiger told her quietly.
She could tell how difficult it was for him not to turn around and track that himself, but she appreciated the trust. It gave her something to focus on other than her roiling emotions and the trembling low in her abdomen.
Tiger offered the two officers a courteous nod and a lifted hand of thanks for their presence, and kept going.
A glance over her shoulder a minute later showed Rock and his buddies back under the bleachers with their bikes. The cops were talking to Warthog. Rock was monitoring the conversation, but he was still watching Tiger.
The look held disgust, but also bitter confusion. A reaction that suggested Tiger had once been a respected part of his world, no matter what Rock had implied.
He spat on the ground at last, and straddled his bike next to the girl. She was scrolling through her phone again, the poster girl for “too pretty to be bothered by much.”
Brian had noted what Skye had, because he let out a relieved breath. “Fuck, been a while since I’ve been that close to a brawl. Not as fun as it once was.” He sent a fond look toward his wife. “Sorry you didn’t get a chance to crack a beer bottle over someone’s head, Mama.”
There was a twinkle in the somber brown eyes when he looked toward Skye. “God knows, you don’t want women involved in a biker fight. I had a cocktail waitress jump on myback once, like a cat on a pit bull's head. Not a whole lot the pit bull can do but howl and run."
“He’s not telling you about the double D mud wrestler who practically handed him his balls,” Greta said dryly. “The night I met him, he was telling that story. Said he’d never been happier to have his ass kicked.”
“Until I met you, baby,” he assured her.
Greta punched him lightly in the side. “Those brawls were different. Nine times out of ten, both sides bought each other drinks afterward. They didn’t involve people like that. I’m just glad it turned out okay.”
