Protect (39 page)

She really didn’t need people reminding her
she was too old for this. She was well aware that this was possibly
dangerous. To her
and
the baby. But it wasn’t planned, it
happened
. So obviously this old lady body still had it goin’
on somewhat.

The only thing she
hadn’t
been
prepared for was Fritter. While his interest in the baby last night
had been welcome she expected him to wake up and bolt that morning.
But he hadn’t, and at the doctor’s office he’d been totally
involved and asking questions.

She was surprised. Her doctor was
very
surprised. Once he got past the tattoos the check-up went very
well. Thankfully Fritter left the kutte in his truck before they
went inside. He’d even picked her up after going back to his own
house that morning to get his “cage.”

As she pulled the passenger door shut and
fastened her seatbelt Fritter circled to the driver’s side and did
the same then started up the rust bucket. It ran well, it just
wasn’t pretty.

“You hungry?” he asked, signaling before
pulling out into traffic. “Sandwich? Pizza? Dill pickles and ice
cream?”

She laughed. “No weird cravings, not yet. But
a sandwich would be good.”

“You got it, momma.”

“Momma?”

“What?”

She laughed again. “You’re really going to
call me momma now?”

“Yeah, I am. And uh,” he cleared his throat,
eyes on the road. “Ma’s gonna need to know soon. I mean, I can wait
until you tell your folks if you want. And the kid. But I can’t not
tell her. She kicked my ass when she found out about us.”

“She did?”

“Oh yeah. Well, she suspected after I ran
into you on Main Street, thinking you were dating your kid.” He
winced. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

“It’s fine. How exactly did she kick your
ass?”

“Found out about the video at the salon, then
at the laundry at the hospital. People were talking about it,
filthy shit she did
not
like because she’s probably your
second biggest fan. I don’t think she even cares that I’m on that
video, giving everyone a show of my cock before lasting all of one
and a half minutes fucking you. But she knows that the election is
basically tanked now. She’s really pissed.”

Sharon bit her lip to keep her smile away.
“Is someone giving you shit about your staying power?”

He looked surprised, then he gave her a slow
smile and returned his attention to driving. “The guys that saw it
are. Askin’ me if I was racin’ someone.”

“Did you tell them you took me to my room and
then gave me an hour and a half of your undivided attention?”

Now he outright grinned. “No, I didn’t,” he
said on a chuckle, then looked to her again. “Don’t talk about you,
Sharon. None of their business.”

Her heart fluttered yet again, and she
decided to watch out the side window as the sights of Markham flew
by. “Are we really going to a diner to have a sandwich together?”
she asked suddenly, alarmed.

“I thought we would. Unless you’d rather I
went in and got it to go.” Damn, he actually sounded disappointed.
“We gotta get used to being seen together, momma. We can’t hide
each other once the baby is here.”

He was right, but she needed to get used to
the idea. This being Markham, she had three minutes to accept it
because it didn’t take all that long to get to a diner that she
knew well because everyone in the department loved the place. It
was close to work and delicious in a disgusting, greasy way.

She grinned. He took her somewhere
she
was comfortable. Honestly, she could get used to that
treatment.

They walked through the deco chrome and glass
door, strode past empty black, red and white half-circle booths to
sit in a small two-person booth along the windows that looked out
to the street. Fritter positioned her on one side quite pointedly,
and she knew he wanted to watch the door.

That was fine with her. She was happy to drop
her guard, slide into the vinyl booth and grab a menu.

They ordered when the waitress came, then she
set her hands on the tabletop in front of her. He reached across to
take her hand so swiftly it startled her and she tried to pull
back. “Fritter—”

“No one’s even looking.”

She scanned the room and found he was
absolutely correct. There was one older fellow at the lunch counter
talking to his waitress, and a circle booth hosting a family of
five had their attentions on two toddlers who appeared to be twins
and having a “Who Could Make The Most Noise” contest.

“See, momma? Told you.” He grinned, and she
felt it right down to her toes. Damn, had such a great smile. She
hoped their baby had that smile.

“Not used to it,” she mumbled, shaking off
the sappy baby thoughts. She wasn’t
that
woman, never had
been. “Haven’t been on a date since college.”

Fritter grinned, too. “I don’t think I’ve
ever been on a date.”

“No?”

“Nuh uh. In school we went to dances in
groups, hung out in groups. After high school, just had to worry
about hook ups.”

She raised an eyebrow. “For your first date
you were doing very well. Right up to that statement.”

He laughed softly, looking down at their
hands. “Yeah, I’m a little rough around the edges, momma. But here
I am, on a date with you anyway. And it doesn’t feel weird to me at
all.”

She had to smile as he ducked his head and
brought her hand up to kiss it, then just smiled at her across the
table. Sweet. So unbelievably sweet.

She was about to speak when his cell phone
rang. He frowned then nodded to her, leaned forward and pulled it
from his back pocket. “Howdy.”

She took her hand back and smiled as the
waitress set their glasses of water down, took a big sip then
watched Fritter’s face go from curious to shock. Her stomach
dropped.

“You’re shitting me.” She sat up straighter.
“No, I’ll go. I’m just a couple blocks away.” his eyes flicked to
her and she nodded to show she understood. “I got back up.”

She had to smile. He wasn’t going to wrap her
in cotton and keep her locked up after all.

“Yeah. Get here as fast as you can, I’m on
it. Who called it in?” Fritter was standing now and Sharon scurried
to do the same. “Fuck me. I’m on my way. Bring everyone, man.” He
slapped the phone shut and motioned for the waitress, pulled out
his wallet and faced Sharon. “You know our tattoo shop?”

She nodded. “Brady Clark’s place? Yeah.”

“Someone just threw shit through his windows
and jumped him. The head shop next door called the clubhouse to let
us know. I’m goin’ in, but I’m not goin’ in clean, momma.” He put
his hands on her shoulders as she felt her face fall. “They’re
beatin’ people up. There’s two of us. I’m goin’ in with a fuckin’
gun. I have to.”

Sharon swallowed the big lump in her throat
and nodded. “I understand.”

“You carrying?”

She shook her head. “No, I left everything at
home. I didn’t expect this.”

Fritter nodded, then turned to their
approaching waitress. “Can we get our food to go? We’ll pick it up
in an hour? I’ll pay right now.”

The waitress looked surprised but nodded.
“Sure, I’ll put the Sheriff’s name on it.”

Fritter nodded sharply, dropped some bills on
the table, took her hand and tugged her through the door and to his
truck. He still took the time to open the passenger door for her,
but after that he was a moving blur.

Before long they were speeding the three
blocks it took to get to Ink Junkie. When she saw it she felt her
heart break. They’d done some really cool logo work on the glass,
and now it was all trashed. If they did anything to Gertie’s mural
Sharon was going to be really pissed.

Fritter didn’t even kill the engine. He
nabbed his Ruger from the glove box, was out the driver’s side, and
into the fray quicker than she could track. She reached over,
tagged the keys and pulled them free. Then she searched around the
vehicle for something to arm herself with. Under the seats along
the back window she found a crowbar with flaking black paint, and
she grabbed that before getting out onto the sidewalk.

Inside she heard shouting, more smashing
sounds. In the distance she could make out the rumble of bikes, but
they sounded so far away.

She stepped through the smashed panel of the
door, took in the scene with her assessing eye. Four men, all
large, wearing kuttes with a different patch on the back, Fritter,
Brady, and another man she didn’t know. Brady was no sissy. He was
built like a linebacker and with some help provided from Fritter he
was now on his feet and delivering some experienced-looking
pugilism on one of the unknown bikers.

She caught sight of Fritter, locked in his
own battle with two bikers not quite as big as him but still quick
and tough. If he’d shown the gun he’d already lost it. Her eyes
cast over the ground, spotting it in the glass along the front
wall.

She scurried after it, and the fourth man,
who’d been having a good old time turning over tables and chairs
and basically smashing everything to shit, noticed her. Out of the
corner of her eye she saw him rushing her, and she slid through the
glass—thank fuck for the miracle of tempered—managing to snatch the
Ruger before he could.

He didn’t seem worried that she had a gun and
he didn’t. He made as though he was going to fall on her, and
left-handed she cranked the crowbar into his knee. He bellowed,
still falling, but she was rushing to her feet. Her right arm went
up, pistol pointed to the ceiling, and she squeezed the trigger
once.

Like she wanted, there was a pause in the
action. All eyes came to her, and she lowered the weapon on the
room in general. “Everyone get on their stomachs, hands where I can
see them. Right fucking now.”

Brady took the opportunity to break his
partner’s nose and pin him on the ground. Fritter laid out one of
his opponents and the other one came to his senses too late.
Fritter yanked his arm behind his back, snapped it forward and
there was a horrible snap followed by the man’s shrieks as one of
his arm bones burst out of his skin.

“Jesus,” she whispered, finding another
moving form. It was the man not wearing a kutte, the only one
dressed as a regular person that she didn’t know. He was getting on
the floor and stretching his arms out in front of him very, very
slowly.

A hand closed around her shooting wrist, and
she jumped as Jayce tightened his hold. “It’s okay, Sharon. I got
this.”

She let him take the gun and she let the crow
bar dangle at her side. Fritter approached, smiling, all the while
hissing “What were you thinking? A fucking crowbar?”

“It’s all you had in the truck.”

He pulled her to his side, kissing her
forehead. “Thanks, momma. You okay?”

“I’m fine. Are you calling the cops?”

Brady was there suddenly, and she had to
wince. His nose was swollen, both eyes would be black in the
morning, and he had some nasty lacerations on his face to boot. But
Jesus he must have put up a hell of a fight. “I’ll call the cops
and tell them the guys laid a beat down and then ran.”

Jayce nodded and Sharon closed her eyes. She
really shouldn’t be hearing this.

“How they hell’d you hold them off?”

Brady wiped the blood from his nose,
shrugging at Tank’s question. Shit, who else was here? She’d barely
noticed but now she saw Jayce, Tank, Buck and Knuckles were all in
attendance. “Two of them stayed outside at first, set the other two
in on their own after the broke the glass. Must have thought we
were easy targets.”

“Spaz is coming with the van. We’ll cart
these assholes out of here.” Jayce’s eyes rested on her, went up to
Fritter, then back to her. “You okay with all this?”

She shouldn’t be, but seeing as she was about
to lose her job anyway ... “Not gonna call anyone in on you, if
that’s what you mean.”

Jayce nodded. “Appreciate it.”

She eyed up the men on the ground, all
whining and nursing wounds or outright unconscious. Knuckles was
knocking one fellow around just a bit, trying to get him to shut
up. It was like the battlefield after the fighting when all the
injured survivors were put out of their misery. “Who are they?” She
still hadn’t managed to make out a patch.

Fritter’s arm tightened around her back.
“Dirty Rats. They’re a bit pissed at us at the moment.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And they might not care for Markham
County Sheriffs at this point, either.” Jayce muttered and Sharon
stiffened, then looked up at Fritter. He was glaring at Jayce, jaw
so tight she could see the pulse in the side of his neck.

“What’s he talking about?” she asked softly,
and Fritter eased up. Just a bit.

“We have shit they want. They might think
we’ve got a real special deal with the law, making the law just as
much an enemy.”

Her grip tightened at his waist. “I have to
tell them. I have to warn them, Fritter.”

“And you can,” he said softly, sliding his
hand around the back of her neck. “I just ... I didn’t expect this
kind of shit.”

“How much you think the damage will be?”
Obviously this question from Jayce was directed at Brady, so Sharon
rested her head on Fritter’s shoulder and let her eyes slide
closed. Jesus, she was so tired again.

“Cost of an entire wall of glass?” Brady gave
a very dry laugh. “A lot. A fucking lot, actually.”

“I’m sorry, man. Obviously they know you’re
with us, this is our fault.”

“Don’t worry about it. I got insurance.”

“Nah, we got this. It’s our fault. But maybe
get something with bars in it for now?” Jayce suggested, and it
sounded like he was smiling.

“You think?”

“Momma? You passin’ out on me?”

“Hmmm?”

Fritter kissed her forehead. “We gotta pick
up your dinner then get you home for a nap.”