hesitant around me. All he knew about me was that I’d been in San Quentin for the duration of his time with the club.
“Morning, Jazz,” Jonah said as he walked in from the office in the back. He deposited Grace into the playpen behind the desk, where she immediately crawled to a plastic ring of keys and began chewing on them.
“I know,” Jonah said. “She’s a terror. Once she can walk, it’s over for me and Mav.”
Grace looked up at her dad and laughed, an adorable, musical sound. I couldn’t help but smile. Things had changed a lot in the time I’d been gone—of all the things I’d heard in the letters Tex had sent, I never thought I’d see a baby in Custom Ankhs. But somehow, she seemed to fit.
The shop had a lot of clients on the book for the day, and I expected we’d see some walk-ins as well. I settled into my role as the enforcer for the day, letting Heath handle the bulk of the customers. He was good at it, too, handling the questions he could and directing the more complex ones to Jonah.
Jonah ran the place like he owned it. He knew the ins and outs of the modifications the shop could do, obviously he knew the art, and if he had a question about the engines, he pulled me over. As we dealt with the first few hours of business, Heath began to open a little bit more to me, laughing at my jokes and offering a few digs of his own.
It was mid-afternoon when the bells on the front door jingled for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Welcome to Custom Ankhs,” Heath said from the desk. “What can we do for you today?”
The customer narrowed his eyes. He was tall, built like a linebacker, and wearing a sun-faded leather vest with a Liberty Crew patch on the chest. The Liberty Crew were based in Junee, just south of us—but they didn’t often ride into Elkin Lake.
“My bike’s out front,” the man snapped. “It’s been less than a year and the paint’s flaking.”
“All right, we can take a look at that,” Heath said. “Let me pull up your account. Name?”
The Liberty rider approached the desk and slapped his palm flat on the desk with a crack. The sound made Heath rear back in his chair, eyes widening a little bit.
“Hey.” I stepped closer to the desk. “Cool it.”
Jonah peered out of the office in the back, his brow furrowed in concern.
“I’m not in the mood,” the Liberty rider growled. “Your shop did shitty work, and I want it fixed. Now.”
Heath swallowed and glanced toward me, his brown eyes a little desperate. But before I could step in, Jonah marched out of the office and out from behind the desk.
“All right, sir,” he said easily, unfazed by the biker’s angry tone and his large stature. “I took over all the paint work recently, so I’m happy to take a look at the problem and get it fixed.”
The guy sneered. “You’re not going to apologize for your shop’s shitty work? I’m gonna need a little more than a consultation.”
Jonah raised his eyebrows. “I have to see it first. Simple as that.”
“You should be grateful I came back at all,” the Liberty guy said. “I should’ve just had it fixed in Nevada.”
“So why didn’t you?” Jonah didn’t back down an inch. “Think I’ll cut you a deal if you puff your chest out enough?”
The guy looked taken aback for a moment. “You serious? You’re the ones who fucked up my bike.”
“I’ll take a look at it,” Jonah said again patiently, like he was speaking to a five-year-old, “but first we need to pull up your account. Name?”
“Fuck your accounts!” the guy said, and shoved Jonah’s shoulder hard enough to send him stumbling back a few steps.
Jonah could handle tough conversations with customers, no problem. But no one was allowed to lay hands on any of our members. I was on the guy instinctually, before I even registered what I was doing.
I grabbed his shoulder roughly and heaved him backward, away from Jonah. Then I kicked his feet out from under him, fast and efficient, and dropped my knee onto the middle of his back to pin him to the floor. Once he was face down on the tile, it was easy to gather his wrists in one hand, restraining him. The Liberty rider cursed colorfully, his voice muffled by