Page 52 of Shadow Strike
Claire pocketed the drive.“I’ll review everything tonight.Thank you.”
She and Garrett left.By mid-afternoon, the rush had tapered off.The Outlaws filtered out in small groups, calling goodbyes as they left.“See you around, Ms.Hill.”“Thanks for the food.”
Regan collected plates and glasses, still half-expecting the other shoe to drop.But the mood stayed easy, almost festive.When she cleared the last table, she found a pile of cash that made her stop and count it twice.
A hundred dollars on a twenty-dollar tab.The same pattern repeated at every table she cleared.
By the time the bar was empty except for her and CB, Regan had collected more in tips than she usually made in a full week.
She leaned against the bar, watching CB wipe down the last of the tables.He moved through the task with the same unhurried ease he’d brought to everything today.
“What the hell just happened?”
CB looked up, and a grin spread across his face.“Ryder’s not the only one who can charm people into following him.”
She shook her head, but she was smiling too.“You just turned his show of force into a lunch rush.”
“Those guys aren’t loyal to Ryder.They’re loyal to the club, to what it used to stand for.My grandfather and father built something that mattered to people—you reminded me of that.Ryder’s been trading on that reputation while running the organization into the ground.”CB tossed the rag onto the bar.“Today, I reminded them what being an Outlaw means.”
Regan’s smile widened.CB hadn’t fought Ryder with threats or muscle—he’d fought him with memory, with connection, with the simple act of showing up and being someone worth following.
“You’re good at that,” she said quietly.“Making people feel seen.”
His grin softened into something more genuine.“Learned it from my mom.”
The rest of the afternoon and evening passed without incident.The summer heat drove a few regular customers in, along with a handful of tourists.Regan served drinks, made small talk, and tried to convince herself that the worst was over.
At closing time, she and CB walked through the shutdown routine together.Chairs on tables, register counted, lights off in the kitchen.Pete had left hours ago with a wave and an offer to help anytime she needed, which she still hadn’t fully processed.
“Ready?”CB held the back door open, keys in hand.
“As I’ll ever be.”
They stepped into the parking lot.
The overhead light illuminated the gravel in a pale circle, the edges fading into darkness.CB’s truck sat alone.Beyond them, the tree line was a black wall against the midnight sky.
Two figures stepped out of the shadows.
Regan’s stomach dropped.
Ryder Briggs walked over and leaned against the hood of CB’s truck, arms crossed, his expression unreadable in the dim light.Beside him, Denny Crue cracked his knuckles, a smile spreading across his face.
“Evening.”Ryder pushed off the truck and took a step forward.He tossed an envelope on the ground, and Regan knew without a doubt it contained the C&D letter.“Seems we have a problem.”
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Regan’s blood turned to ice.
Ryder stood in the pale wash of the parking lot light, his hand resting on his hip, casual.Almost bored.
But his eyes were anything but—they burned with a fury she could feel from twenty feet away.
“Seems we have a problem,” he repeated, kicking the crumpled envelope toward them.“You think a piece of paper is going to stop me?”
CB stepped forward, putting himself slightly ahead of Regan.“Walk away, Ryder.It’s over.”
“Over?”Ryder laughed, but there was no humor in it.“You turned my own men against me today, CB.You think I’m just going to let that slide?”
