Chapter 16 Lee
LEE
The cold shower doesn’t help.
Neither does the second one, or the third. By the time I give up and crawl into bed, I’m still hard enough to cut glass and wound tight enough to snap. The taste of Kya is still on my tongue, the sound of her coming apart under my mouth still echoing in my ears.
Nine more days of this is going to kill me. But fuck she isn’t worth it.
I wake up to sunlight streaming through Kya’s bedroom windows and the sound of her phone buzzing insistently on the nightstand. She stirs beside me, warm and soft under the blankets.
“Mmm,” she mumbles, reaching blindly for the phone. “Hello?”
I can hear Mercy’s voice, tinny and urgent through the speaker. “Kya, you need to get to the bar. Now.”
That gets her attention. She sits up, the sheet pooling around her waist, and I have to force myself to focus on the conversation instead of the way the morning light plays across her skin.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, instantly alert.
“Health inspectors. They showed up an hour ago with a warrant. County officials, the works. They’re tearing the place apart.”
Fuck.
I jerk up, already rolling out of bed.
“What?” Kya throws back the covers, reaching down to the floor with one hand to look for clothes. “How is that even legal? We don’t open until—”
“They got a complaint. Multiple complaints, actually. Anonymous tips about serious health violations.”
I tug on my jeans. “Summit,” I mutter, and Kya nods grimly.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” she tells Mercy, hanging up.
“Make that seven,” I say, already pulling my shirt on. “You’re riding with me.”
We make it to Devil’s in five, my bike eating up the distance while Kya holds tight behind me. I can feel the tension in her body as we pull into the lot and see the official vehicles parked outside—a county health department van, two cop cars, and a black sedan that screams government bureaucrat.
Inside, it’s chaos. A stern-faced woman in a county jacket is going through the kitchen with a fine-tooth comb while a uniformed officer stands nearby looking bored. Another inspector is examining the bar itself, taking photos and making notes on a tablet.
Mercy spots us first, relief flooding her face as we enter. “Thank God you’re here,” she says, hurrying over. “They’ve been at this for over an hour. They only just let me call you.”
Kya moves behind the bar, her professional mask sliding into place as she surveys the damage. I stay close, positioning myself where I can see both her and the inspectors.
“Mr. Armstrong,” a voice calls out, and I turn to see a man in an expensive suit approaching. He’s older, silver-haired, with the kind of predatory smile that makes my skin crawl. “David Crane, Summit Development.”
“And you’re here why exactly?” I reply, stepping closer to the bar and Kya.
“Summit is the government’s official contractor for health inspections in this county. I’m just here to oversee the investigation.”
I grit my teeth. “And you just so happen to choose Devil’s to examine?”
The bastard chuckles. “No, I’m afraid this isn’t a routine check. We received several complaints about food safety violations at this establishment. The county takes these things very seriously.”
Complaints, my ass. This is intimidation, pure and simple.
“Find anything interesting?” I ask, though I already know the answer. Kya runs a tight ship—there’s nothing for them to find.
“A few minor infractions,” Crane says smoothly. “Improper food storage temperatures, some documentation issues. Nothing that can’t be corrected with the proper guidance.”
“Guidance from Summit Development?” Kya asks, her voice deceptively calm.
“From the appropriate regulatory agencies, of course. Though Summit would be happy to assist with any renovations or upgrades needed to bring the establishment into compliance.”
“For a fee, I’m sure.”
“Naturally. These things are expensive. Though perhaps less expensive than the alternative.”
I take a step forward, and Crane’s smile falters slightly. “What alternative would that be?”
“Closure, naturally. If the violations are severe enough, the county has no choice but to shut down non-compliant establishments until they meet standards.”
Kya’s face goes pale, but her voice remains steady. “And I suppose Summit would be willing to buy the property at a fair price? Help me avoid all this unpleasantness?”
“We’re always interested in worthwhile investments,” Crane agrees. “Our offer still stands, Ms. Sullivan. Perhaps we could discuss terms—”
“Perhaps you could get the fuck out of my bar,” Kya interrupts, all pretense of politeness gone. “Unless you’re planning to order something, you’re not welcome here.”
Crane’s smile turns predatory. “Ms. Sullivan, I’d encourage you to reconsider your position. The county takes health violations very seriously. It would be unfortunate if this establishment were forced to close due to… ongoing compliance issues.”
That’s when I step between them, close enough that Crane has to crane his neck to look up at me. “Is that a threat?”
“Simply a statement of fact. Health codes exist for public safety. When establishments consistently fail to meet standards…” He shrugs.
The health inspector approaches, tablet in hand. “Ms. Sullivan? I need to speak with you about our findings.”
Kya moves around the bar, and I follow close behind. The inspector—a no-nonsense woman in her fifties—pulls up a list on her tablet.
“Overall, the establishment is in good condition,” she begins, and I see Crane’s expression darken. “However, I did find a few minor violations. The walk-in cooler temperature log hasn’t been updated in three days, and you’re missing some documentation for your most recent supplier deliveries.”
“That’s it?” Kya asks.
“That’s it. Both are easily correctable—just need updated logs and paperwork.
I’ll need to see the corrections within seven days.
As this is your first infraction, we’re issuing you with a formal warning to comply.
” She tears off a piece of paper. “I’ll be back in a week to check over the improvements. ”
Kya’s relief is palpable, and I catch Crane’s frustrated scowl out of the corner of my eye.
“However,” the inspector continues, “I should mention that my office has received several complaints in the past week. All anonymous, all claiming serious violations. I want to be clear—those complaints were baseless. This inspection found no evidence of the issues described.”
“Anonymous complaints,” Kya repeats.
“Yes. Which is unusual. In my experience, legitimate complaints usually come from identifiable sources. Anonymous ones are often…” She glances meaningfully at Crane.
“Motivated by other concerns. I’d recommend reviewing the health standards with your staff to ensure you’re compliant, just to be safe. ”
I grin. It seems that while she might be employed by Summit, the inspector isn’t a fan of Crane either.
After the inspector leaves, along with the cops and the rest of the county officials, Crane lingers, his earlier confidence replaced by barely contained anger.
“This establishment sits on prime development real estate, Ms. Sullivan. One way or another, Summit will acquire it. The question is whether you’ll choose to sell voluntarily or… find yourself with no other options.”
“Get out,” Kya says quietly. “Now.”
I want to rip this weasel’s fucking head off and use it as a paperweight.
My anger bubbles over, every instinct screaming at me to put this piece of shit through the nearest wall.
But Kya’s handling this, and she’s more than capable.
I take a step closer to her, not interfering, just letting her know silently that I’m here if she needs me.
Crane doesn’t move. Just stands there with that smug expression, clearly thinking he can intimidate her into submission.
That’s when I step forward.
“The lady asked you to leave,” I say, my voice deadly quiet. “I suggest you listen.”
Crane’s eyes flick to me, and whatever he sees in my expression makes him finally straighten his tie and head for the door. The man, for all his faults, isn’t completely useless. He straightens his tie, smoothing his hand over his chest.
“Best of luck to you.” He leaves, and the bar falls silent except for the hum of the refrigeration units and the distant sound of traffic outside.
“Well,” Mercy says finally. “That was fun.”
“Are you okay?” I ask Kya, noting the slight tremor in her hands.
“I’m fine. Just angry.” She runs her hands through her hair, messing up the careful style. “They’re not going to stop, are they?”
“No,” I admit. “They’re not.”
“So what do we do?”
Before I can answer, the front door opens and Cash walks in, followed by Bones and three of the prospects. They take in the scene and their expressions harden.
“Heard there was some excitement,” Cash says, settling at the bar.
“Summit brought the health department,” I explain. “Harassment, pure and simple.”
“Find anything?” Bones asks.
“Minor stuff. Nothing that can’t be fixed in a day.”
“But they’ll be back,” Kya adds grimly.
“Then we’ll be ready for them,” Cash says simply. “What do you need?”
It’s a simple question, but the weight behind it is enormous. This is the club offering protection, resources, solidarity. Kya looks surprised by the immediate support.
“I don’t—” she starts.
“Documentation,” I interrupt. “Security cameras. Witnesses for every inspection. Make it harder for them to manufacture violations.”
“Done,” Bones says, already pulling out his phone. “Hawk can have cameras installed by tomorrow.”
“What about legal support?” Mercy asks. “Isn’t there a lawyer helping with the zoning stuff?”
“Josie Bright,” I confirm. “She specializes in municipal law and corruption cases. She should know about this.”
“I’ll call her,” Cash offers. “Pass on the info from today.”
“And I’ll talk to Stone about increasing patrols,” I add. “Make sure there’s always someone keeping an eye on things.”
Kya looks overwhelmed by the sudden outpouring of support. “You don’t have to—”
“Yes, we do,” Bones interrupts gently. “You’re one of us. We protect our own.”
“But I’m not—”
“You are,” I say firmly. “Whether you realize it or not, you’re family. And family sticks together.”
Tears shine in her eyes, but she blinks them back. “I feel like you should have said that in a Vin Diesel voice.”
I huff, pulling her into me for a hug. “Just take the win, Kya.”
She sniffles against my chest. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank us yet,” Cash says. “Wait until you see Hawk’s bill for the security system.”
That earns a laugh, breaking some of the tension.
“Feel better?” I ask Kya.
“A little. Still angry, but less… helpless, I guess.” She tilts her head back. “Thank you. For coming with me when Mercy called, and for stepping in with Crane.”
“You don’t need to thank me for that.”
“Yes, I do. It’s my problem, my bar, my fight.”
“It stopped being just your fight the minute they threatened you. You’re mine, Kya.” The words are rough. “Maybe we haven’t said it out loud, maybe we’re still figuring out what this is, but you’re mine. And I protect what’s mine.”
Something flickers in her eyes—surprise, desire, something deeper that makes my chest tight.
“Yours,” she repeats softly.
“Mine,” I confirm, stepping closer until there’s barely an inch between us. “The same way I’m yours.”
She goes up on her toes, and I think she’s going to kiss me. Instead, she presses her forehead against mine, breathing unsteadily.
“Eight more days,” she whispers.
“Eight more days,” I agree, even though every instinct I have is screaming at me to take her home and claim her properly.
“We should get to work.”
“We should,” I agree. Neither of us moves.
With a laugh, she finally steps back and twirls, walking away. My gaze drops to her full ass, appreciating the way it moves in her tight jeans.
Eight fucking days.