Moran slammed her hand down onto Aella’s window, and I wondered if I should leave, but I had a feeling I was about to be dealing with cops, and I probably shouldn’t move.
Riggens started to cry, and I grabbed his pacifier and placed it into his mouth to help soothe him.
The banging kept up, but the yelling started to freak Riggens out more.
“Shhhh,” I cooed at my nephew. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”
As in, there was a gun in my purse, and if that bitch started to get out of control, she was going down.
I didn’t care if she was a police officer or not.
The sound of a roaring set of pipes—several as a matter of fact—started to vibrate the air around us and a sense of relief filled me.
It filled Riggens as well, because the moment he heard those pipes, he started to calm down instantly.
It had me smiling despite the terrible situation.
The sirens started up, too, but neither sound stopped Moran’s banging on my window.
Spittle was gathered at the corners of her mouth and dribbling down her chin she was so intent on her task.
The bikers arrived first, but Moran still didn’t stop.
She kept slamming her hand down on the window.
She was slamming her hand so hard now that her hand was getting bloody with the force she was using.
It was disgusting, and I felt horrible about it because it was getting all over Aella’s new car.
She’d definitely need a car wash after this.
Bikers pulled in close, and before Moran could comprehend the danger she was in, she was being pushed back by a VERY angry father.
A very angry father that looked like he’d run here from the hospital.
He had sweat covering his face, anger in his eyes, and veins distended all over his arms as he forced himself to not make a move toward the crazy bitch.
Jesus, he was angry.
The hospital was a half a mile away!
The proximity of the diner to the hospital wasn’t by accident.
Since Aella and I both worked there, we’d chosen it to eat at in passing—her going into work and me coming out of work.
Sometimes we talked over our morning showers about our day, and others we met up at the diner for a quick recap of our days.
She was my best friend, my ride or die.
I was always up to date with everything that was happening in her life.
Especially when CPS—child protective services—had been called on her for neglectful parenting by Officer Moran’s bother who was butt hurt that he hadn’t made it into the Truth Tellers MC.
Anyway, the CPS thing had been a big deal for all the parents in the club.
Chevy and Aella. Cutter and Milena. And although they weren’t in the club, Dima and Keely.
Hell, Otto Moran had even called CPS and reported Webber’s daughter, Eedie.
