The last thing he saw was a brown puddle of coffee and a broken mug that said “World’s Best Dad.”
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Cam satat his spot at one of the round tables and flipped a pen around his thumb. Wolf had called this meeting via text, and most of the Knights were present. Only two customers sat at the bar, drinking their lunch and staring at Ellie’s naked tits as she did her thing at the pole. When the men finally looked away and spotted the gathering of bikers, they quickly decided they were done for the day. Ellie pouted at the lost tips.
“Cheapskates!” she declared as she scampered off the stage. Her breasts bounced as she stomped angrily to the small dressing room in the back.
He noticed Ratchet staring at her retreating ass with a speculative look. Ellie was a bit of a ditz, but she could take care of herself. If Ratchet wanted to make a move, it was up to her to say yes or no.
Cam’s mind was more on Sabrina and the events from last night than the meeting. The nasty storm had turned into a long, soaking rain that lasted for several hours. He didn’t remember the movie ending. It was some thriller with a zombie virus. The film wasn’t memorable, but the time with Sabrina had stayed with him. Surprisingly, the bed fit them both and was comfortable as hell. He’d lain on his back against the thickpillows, and she had curled into his side. The movie played out on the screen, but he didn’t hear it. His attention was on the warm presence next to him.
Her breathing.
Her scent.
Her touch.
The noises she made as she fell asleep.
When the sun rose and bathed them in light from the small roof window, he woke to find himself in the same position. They’d stayed fully clothed, and neither of them had tried anything more than the kiss she’d dared him to take, but he felt more satisfied and rested than if he’d had a sex marathon. It had been years since he slept with a woman until morning.
He wondered when they could do it again.
His attention turned quickly as Wolf cracked a newly made gavel onto a round bench anvil. Quillon had turned it on one of the lathes last week, complaining about getting wood chips mixed up with the metal ones.
Wolf didn’t care. Anyone who saw his face at that moment could tell he was pissed. “Three hits to the neighborhood. First the coffee shop, then Clauson’s, and now Hob’s shoe place. This shit has to stop.”
Melter reached for his joint-making apparatus and thought better of it. “The coffee shop people are gay. Someone might have hit them because of that.”
The table erupted in grumbles. Yes, gay businesses were regular targets for some hate groups, but the Knights weren’t that kind of club.
“Nah,” Baghouse scoffed. “The other places had the same attacks. Broken shit and Molotov cocktails. Al and Edna never hurt anyone. The only reason Clauson’s didn’t burn to the ground was ’cause old Al had a good sprinkler system installed. The shoe place was saved ’cause Specs saw Garfield gettin’ beatup and called the police. The perps didn’t have time to bomb the place.”
A smattering round of applause popped around the tables, and Specs grinned at the recognition.
“Damn lucky you were around.” Quillon reached out to slap Specs on the shoulder. The smaller man grimaced and grinned at the same time. “How’s Garfield doin’?”
Wolf dropped the gavel onto the table with a clatter. “He’s in critical condition and alive for now, but it’s not looking good. Serious concussion. Broken arm. Bruised and broken ribs, one punctured lung. Docs say he may or may not make it. If he does, he’s gonna be out of work with a shit ton of hospital bills.”
“Tracie visited his wife and kids yesterday. Money is tight. Garfield’s the only breadwinner. Mira doesn’t work and stays home with the kids. One of them is in school, but the daycare for the other kid would cost them more than what she would earn. Not worth it for her to get a job.”
Melter made a tsking noise. “Dude, that sucks.”
Specs cleared his throat. “If they need help, maybe we could….” His voice trailed off as he realized all the eyes in the room were on him.
“Spit it out,” Wolf gruffed.
Specs tried again. “I was just thinking that maybe we could… like….”
“Like what?”
“Like hold a charity rally or something like that.”
Baghouse barked out a short laugh. “What kinda stupid idea is that, ya damn jagoff?”
A streak of anger traveled down Cam’s spine. “You got any better ones?”
