Page 28 of Coty

It’s not like this is going to be a big fancy wedding. You can’t plan a nice wedding in two weeks. It sounds more like a shotgun wedding to me. I stare at myself in the mirror. My mouth falls open, and my eyes widen. Oh no. Could Kira be pregnant? It would explain the rush. Oh, this is bad, so so bad.

“Thanks, Kayla. See you Tuesday.” Kira ends the call.

Wow. I don’t want to assume anything, but if Kira’s pregnant, that’s going to be a disaster. She could barely take care of herself in college. Her aunt paid her tuition balance after state and federal scholarships so she’d have a better life. Sadly, Kira wanted to party more than work for a degree and a promising career. I can’t say anything there either. Oh well, I’ll get all the details on Tuesday. It’s Saturday night, the best night for tips. Work is calling my name. Well, tips are. I need that down payment.

I finish getting dressed and grab my keys. My phone rings again before I pull out of the driveway. It would have been better if this call were from Coty. My father’s name lights up on the screen. Uh. I should throw it out the window.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Kayla, you ok?” His tone is sharp, as always.

“I’m good. Just heading to work.”

“Right.” Of course, he’s disappointed with me. “Saw the trouble on the news.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head to no one. The trouble happened a week ago, and this is the first I’ve heard from anyone in my family.

“I’m good.”

“Well.” He huffs. “Your mom’s planning a family dinner tomorrow. Be here by six.” He abruptly ends the call.

Great. Just one more thing I don’t want to do. I don’t want to go to Knoxville. I don’t want to be Kira’s Maid of Honor. I seriously don’t want to have family dinner with my family. I don’t want to talk to Coty Michaels. Thinking his name pauses my emotional spiral.

“Coty,” I whisper.

Then again, maybe I wouldn’t mind seeing him.

Chapter 14

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Coty

It’s been a long week. Wish I could say it was boring and uneventful, but I can’t. The news channels have stopped sharing the footage from the church’s candlelight vigil. If Nick knows why they stopped, he’s not saying.

The social media posts continue. Mack extended the order of not going out alone until things die down some more around town. It’s a good thing, too. Willow Creek is a divided town. No fights have broken out. There have been several occasions where rude comments were shouted at our family members. Once again, no one says anything to a patched member. Our family members don’t respond. They walk away. They’re getting tired of it, though. It’s only a matter of time before someone explodes.

Kayla arrived at work a couple of hours ago. One of the prospects followed her to the Roadhouse while I helped out at the Den. Jack’s family is trying to get back to some sense of normal. Granddad is at the bar with Pops tonight. Jack and his dad are watching over the clubhouse. Nick was a little concerned with the crowd at Angie’s tonight. It’s where I’m heading. Bankz and Hendrix have things under control at the Roadhouse. They have eyes on Kayla at all times. I’ll head there once I’m sure Angie doesn’t need help.

Angie has a pretty big crowd tonight. I pull into the lot and park a few spaces from the front door. The side lot looks full. There must be a party going on inside.

“Rodeo!” Angie hurries from behind the counter to hug me when I step inside. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too.” She sees me about twice a week. Her enthusiasm being this high might mean there’s a problem.

“How about a bacon cheeseburger tonight?” She grabs a set of silverware and a menu.

Okay. I was gone for two years and have only been back a few months. I’m a little rusty on hidden codes, if this is one. Bacon cheeseburgers are Jay’s favorite meal.

“How about your famous fried chicken with mashed potatoes and fried okra?” I tease.

“Good choice.” Angie pauses at the lower end of the front counter and hands the unnecessary menu and my order to one of her servers. Her eyes dart over her shoulder. “You know ‘em? Are they Mavericks?”

I glance at the front table in the back dining room. Two heavy-set men with scruffy beards are sharing a pizza and a couple of beers. Who comes to a country-style restaurant and orders pizza? Idiots, of course.

“Have they caused any trouble?”

“Nothing I can prove. They stare at a few tables, making customers uncomfortable. Two families asked to change their orders to go and left. They called and told me about it once they were in their cars.”

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