Behind me Wayne groans again.
“Rae,” he says.
“What?”
“You are not helping.”
I look down at the broom in my hand and then back at him. “I am literally cleaning,” I point out.
“You are provoking a situation.”
“Same thing,” I say.
Wayne mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a prayer for patience.
Cole looks between the two of us again. Then he says quietly, “She’s not going anywhere, is she?”
Wayne sighs. “No,” he says. “She absolutely is not.”
Then I promptly ignore him and turn back to the biker boys.
Now that the initial shock has worn off, I take a second to really look at who just rolled into my bar.
Cole is closest, leaning one hand on the counter like he belongs there. Behind him a handful of Iron Reapers have spread out across the room, quietly looking over the damage like this is just another problem they plan to solve before lunch.
I recognize two of them.
Mason is near the door talking with Wayne, calm as ever like smashed windows and extortion notes are just another item on his daily agenda. Dagger is already moving around the room, studying the damage with the kind of focus that says he’s filing every broken chair and splintered board away for later.
Cole, obviously, is right in front of me.
The rest of them I don’t know.
One big guy with a shaved head is standing by the boarded window with his arms folded, looking at the damage like he’s personally offended by it. Another one is crouched near the hallway inspecting the busted doorframe. A tall guy leaning against the wall has a toothpick in his mouth and the kind of relaxed posture that somehow still looks dangerous.
I glance back at Cole.
“Well,” I say, gesturing around the room, “I know Mason and Dagger.”
Then I motion toward the rest of the bikers.
“But who are the rest of you?” I ask. “You gonna introduce me or should I just start assigning nicknames?”
The guy with the toothpick chuckles under his breath.
Cole exhales slowly like he knew this was coming.
He gestures toward the big guy near the window first. “Tank.”
Tank nods once in my direction.
Cole tilts his head toward the guy crouched by the hallway. “Riot.”
Riot glances up from the busted doorframe and gives me a quick two-finger salute before going back to studying the damage.
Finally Cole nods toward the tall guy leaning against the wall.
“Blade.”
