Naomi appeared next to us, a bag of popcorn in hand. “I think you can let her go now, Viking,” she said.
“Daisy, I know you think that. But this ain’t my first rodeo with Bar Fight Lina. I let her go and she’s gonna start breakin’ faces.”
“Oh come on! One time,” I spat, renewing my struggles.
“Two times,” he argued, locking his arms tighter around me. “You’re forgetting that asshole’s nose in Pittsburgh.”
I got enough room to elbow him in the gut. Unfortunately his rock-hard abs did more damage to my elbow than vice versa. What was it with the men in this town and their muscles? “Ouch! Damn it! You’re the one who threw him through a window.”
“Calm the fuck down, Lina,” he growled.
“Honey, you do know that doesn’t work on women, right?” Naomi said, scooping up a handful of popcorn.
“Knox, if you don’t let me go, I’m going to start with your face,” I warned.
“You put your hands on two women who made it clear they didn’t want them there,” Nash was saying to the unpunched face of the biker. “You’re under arrest.”
“What seems to be the problem here?”
“Fuck,” Knox muttered as Tate Dilton strolled into the situation.
“Yeah, you’re gonna want to let me go now,” I hissed.
“I got this,” Nolan said over his shoulder.
“This has nothing to do with you, Dilton,” Nash said, his voice snapping with authority.
Dilton sneered. “Looks to me like you’re abusin’ your power. Someone’s gotta stand up for what’s right.”
“You sure you know what that looks like?” Nash asked.
“Here we go,” Knox muttered. He lifted me off my feet and handed me to Harvey, the gigantic biker with arms the size of my head. “Hold this.”
“Sure thing, Knox. How’s it going, Lina?” Harvey asked as he wrapped those tattooed pythons around me. I managed to kick Knox in the ass as he left but it was only a glancing blow and did little to soothe my temper.
Lucian deposited Sloane next to Naomi. “Move from this spot and we’ll have problems,” he warned, looming over her with a finger in her face.
“Bite me, Lucifer.”
Knox and Lucian took their stances next to Nash and Nolan.
“Pretty sure you’re the only one being investigated for abuse of power, ya jack wagon,” someone in the crowd drawled at Dilton.
“You shut your dirty, lyin’ mouth or I’ll shut it for you,” he snarled.
He was drunk, which made him that much more dangerous. I noticed Sergeant Hopper and another officer sidling up behind the first line of defense, ready to step in if necessary. Realizing I wasn’t going to get a shot at avenging Sloane or myself, I let myself go limp against Harvey.
He released me, then patted me on the head before stepping up next to Hopper.
Irritated, I joined Naomi and Sloane. Our view was restricted by the ring of Knockemout citizens taking Nash’s back.
“Come on,” I said, spotting an abandoned picnic table.
“But Lucian told Sloane not to move,” Naomi said, lifting the hem of her dress.
“Lucian can kiss my ass,” Sloane said and followed me.
The three of us climbed up onto the table.
“Pretty sure he’d like to do more than kiss it,” I guessed.
She ignored my comment and squinted at the crowd. “All I can see are pissed-off blobs.”
“We’ll get your glasses as soon as Nash is done talking these assholes to death,” I promised.
Naomi shook her head. “Oh, he’s not talking them to death. He’s lulling them into a fake sense of complacency. Just watch.”
“Tate?” A pretty blond on the edge of the crowd wrung her hands.
“Go back to the car, Melissa,” Dilton snapped.
“Mom called. Ricky has a fever—”
“Go back to the fuckin’ car!”
The woman scurried away, disappearing into the crowd.
“You’re under arrest, Williams,” Nash said to the guy who’d grabbed Sloane. “You have the right to an attorney.”
But Nash wasn’t reaching for cuffs and he also wasn’t taking a defensive stance. From my vantage point, I could see Williams getting ready to do something really stupid. He waited until Nash had almost finished reading him his rights before making his move.
I watched in slow motion as the man’s fist plowed into Nash’s face. A very feminine gasp escaped me as his head snapped back with the force of the blow. But he didn’t stagger and he didn’t put his hands up to defend himself.
I made a move to jump down from the table, but Naomi stopped me. No one else in the crowd had moved a muscle.
“What the hell is he doing?” I hissed. “Nash just let that guy hit him.”
“It’s a whole thing,” Naomi said. “If he gets hit first, it’s self-defense, and according to Lucian, the legal bills are smaller.”
“Plus, this counts as resisting arrest,” Sloane added.
“Why, I do believe Bronte Williams just assaulted an officer while resisting arrest,” Harvey yelled through cupped hands.
“That’s what I saw,” a woman in flannel agreed.
“Same here.”
“I feel unsafe with this criminal activity unfolding in front of me. I might have to defend myself.”
A chorus of agreement rang out from the crowd.
“You got your one shot. Now either turn your ass around and put your hands behind your back or try that shit again,” Nash said to Williams.
Williams and Dilton exchanged a look and then struck simultaneously. Williams hauled back to hit Nash and found himself taking a face full of pissed-off police chief fist. He went down like an anvil. No swaying. No stumbling. One shot and he keeled over backward, unconscious before he hit the road. It was beautiful.
“Yes!” I said, pumping my arm in victory.
Dilton’s swing connected with Nolan’s jaw. Nolan spit, then grinned as he raised his own fists.
“What’s happening? Did the fat blob just punch Nash? Who are the other two blobs?” Sloane demanded.
Naomi delivered the play-by-play for Sloane as Nolan delivered a one-two combination to Dilton’s face that had the man staggering back and tripping over his own damn feet. He landed hard on his ass, which made the crowd laugh.
It was over that quickly.
“Nice shot, Nolan,” Sloane yelled.
“Does violence make you want to break your three-date rule?” Naomi teased.
In no time at all, Hopper and the other officer were loading the two bloodied, handcuffed assholes into the back of a cruiser. Williams was a bit groggy from his recent trip to dreamland, and I felt a sense of vindication when Dilton howled in pain as his ass hit the seat.
I noticed Lucian in the middle of the street pause to pick something up off the ground. He studied it, then tucked it into his pocket. His eyes scanned the crowd, then narrowed when he spotted us on the picnic table.
“Uh-oh,” Naomi whispered.
“Uh-oh what?” Sloane demanded. “I can’t see shit!”
“Lucian is coming toward us,” I said.
“And he looks mad,” Naomi added.