Chapter Three
I grab the empty plates and glasses and carry them into the kitchen, scraping off the remnants of the food into the bin before placing everything on the side ready to go in the dishwasher.
“Hey, Nova, are you sure you’re okay to cover my shift tonight?” my best friend, Riley, asks. I flinch as she places her hand on my side, catching my bruised ribs. She raises an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look, but I just shake my head at her.
“Yeah, I can cover your shift.”
“Nova...”
“Please don’t, Riley, I’m good,” I tell her, with a hint of a smile. Her eyes flick back and forth between mine, she doesn’t say anything, but I know she’s not convinced.
I’ve known Riley for years. We met in high school, and when she got the job here working as a waitress in our local diner, she helped me get a job here too.
I’ve been working here for the last three years, since I was seventeen. Every penny I make my aunt and uncle take from me. Every time I hand over my wage, they make a point of telling me that we don’t come cheap, and that I need to contribute to the house.
I don’t mind paying to make sure that Mason has everything he needs, I happily hand over my wage to make sure that he gets everything he needs. But when I got a small pay rise last year, I asked if I could have it cash-in-hand. The owners didn’t ask questions, they were happy to agree.
I didn’t tell my aunt and uncle. And every penny from that pay rise I save. I don’t know how they haven’t realised I’ve been getting more money, but I’ll keep it quiet as long as I can.
I will escape that house one day, but before I can do that I need to make sure that I have enough money to take care of my little brother when I do, because I won’t be leaving without him.
I head out to the front of the diner and see there’s a couple of guys sitting in my section.
I watch them for a few seconds, looking over their outfits.
They are from an MC, the name on their kuttes is obscured but I know they aren’t from the local MC, The Legion Riders.
They have a motorcycle on the back, and the bit I can see of these guys seems to have a skull and maybe a knife or a sword.
Grabbing my tablet, I make my way over to their table and greet them with a smile. “Hi guys, what can I get for you?”
“Hey, sweetheart.” The guy closest to me looks up and smiles. His eyes, a light golden-brown, lock onto my face. His look is a little intense, he must sense my nerves though as he gives me a smile, putting me at ease.
“Can I just get a cup of black coffee, please?” he asks.
I nod. “Anything to eat?”
“Nah, just the coffee, thanks.”
“And can I get you anything?” I turn my attention to his friend. As I glance at him, I notice that he’s wearing his sunglasses indoors, and the fact that I can’t tell if he’s looking at me or not makes me nervous.
“I’ll have the same as him, thanks,” he tells me, before giving me a small smile and then looking down at his phone on the table.
“Won’t be long,” I tell them as I tap both orders into the tablet, along with the table number, and head back over to the kitchen to grab their drinks.
Riley is standing, leaning against the door, watching me as I pour their coffees. “Hey, did you see the name on their kuttes?” she asks.
“No. I didn’t look. Why?”
“Because they aren’t locals.” Her tone tells me that she thinks I should know what she means by that.
I shake my head and give her a shrug of my shoulders.
“MCs stick to their own areas, they don’t wander into another part of town.
They shouldn't be h…” She stops mid-sentence when the bell over the door dings and we both turn to see two guys from the local MC walk in.
Riley tenses as they walk toward my table with the other two guys.
I have no idea what's got her so on edge, so choosing to ignore it, I slide the tablet under my arm and make my way over with the coffees just as they take a seat.
“Your coffees,” I say as I place them down on the table before turning to the other guys.
I smile when I see Wolf and Acid. I don’t really know the guys that well, but they helped my brother when he came off his bike two years ago.
Wolf had seen it happen and had brought him and his damaged bike home.
My uncle had yelled at Mason when he’d spotted the wheel was damaged.
Wolf and the three guys that had followed them back had told my uncle it wasn’t Mason’s fault, and a couple of days later both Wolf and Acid came back and fixed his bike.
“Hey, sweets.” Wolf greets me with a smile.
“Hey, kid,” Acid says as he winks at me.
“Hey guys. You want your usual?” I ask them both with a smile.
“Just our coffees for now, thanks, babe,” Wolf tells me. I give him a nod and a smile then head into the back to grab their drinks. Riley stands at the counter, her mouth wide open. “Close your mouth, Riles, you’ll catch flies.”
She laughs and follows me into the back. “I can’t believe they are all sitting together. I was fully expecting a war.”
I stop what I’m doing and turn to face her. “A war? Could you be any more dramatic?” I tell her as I finish making the coffees.
“I wonder why they are here?” she muses aloud.
I shake my head and roll my eyes, letting out a laugh. “Girl, you’re so nosy. Maybe they know each other and just wanted to catch up.”
She turns to walk out into the front, laughing at me, and she calls back, “And you’re so naive. Rival clubs don’t just meet for a coffee and a catch up.”
As I walk back to the table, the men who were deep in conversation stop talking the minute I appear. “One black, one latte. Let me know if you need anything else,” I tell them, smiling as I head back to a curious Riley.
More than an hour later, Wolf and Acid are still sitting in the booth with the other two guys. Riley and our chef, Mike, left a little while ago. I said I would cover Riley’s later shift so she could go out with some guy, so I’m stuck here until closing.
Checking my watch, I frown when I realise our second chef, Ian, is thirty minutes late. He’s never on time, but he always seems to get away with it.
Knowing I can’t work the kitchen, I grab the ‘kitchen closed’ sign and make my way over to the door.
As I stick the sign to the door, I hear the rumble of bikes approaching. Looking up, I see several of them approaching from both sides of the road, heading right for our carpark.
Nerves begin to bubble up in my stomach as I remember what Riley said about rival clubs and expecting a war.
I sneak a quick glance to my right. The men in the booth don’t seem to notice, or maybe they don’t care that there are a load of bikes coming this way.
I finish taping up the sign and hurry back behind the counter, I don’t want to be too close if something does happen with these guys.
I turn my back to the door and busy myself with cleaning out one of our coffee machines when I hear the door go and multiple pairs of heavy boots enter the cafe. I consider turning around, but I don’t, instead I keep my head low and keep myself busy.
A minute later, someone clears their throat.
“Hey, sweets,” Wolf calls out, and I turn around, giving him a smile as I make my way over to him.
“Hey, everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, can we get two glasses of water and another six black coffees?” he asks as he glances at the coffee machine I was just cleaning.
“Yeah, I’ll bring them over, give me five,” I tell him and quickly busy myself with the drinks.
As I place the glasses and cups onto the tray, I cast a quick glance over to the table where the men are sat. They’ve taken over another booth and have pulled a couple of chairs over from one of the smaller tables in the centre of the room.
I recognise two of the newcomers as Wolf's friends, but the other two newcomers I’ve never seen before.
The logo on their leather vests matches the two men who were here first. One guy is sat slouched in one of the chairs he pulled over from the other table, his tattooed arms folded over his chest, and his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.
He yawns and rubs his hands over his face and then over his short dark hair before focussing back to the men around the table.
The other guy has spun the chair so he’s straddling it, his arms also heavily tattooed, his biceps bulging in his white T-shirt as they rest on the back of the chair. I swallow, suddenly nervous remembering Riley’s words about wars.
I swallow again, grabbing the tray of drinks and make my way over to them. I need to get a grip, there's no atmosphere and these guys all seem pretty relaxed with one another.
I place the drinks on the table, making sure I smile but don’t make too much eye contact.
A number of “thanks” are muttered from a few of them, but as I go to walk away, I catch the eyes of the guy straddling the chair. His steel-grey eyes are intense as he looks me up and down. I swallow, giving him a smile before turning and walking away, feeling his eyes burning into my back.