by Chiah Wilder
Dr. Schroeder, her therapist, told her the same thing Fe did: she didn’t want to get close to anyone new for fear she’d lose them. Is that screwed up or what?
The moonlight shifted across the storefront, and Lena looked up from wiping the top of the display case and out onto the quaint avenue that eclipsed over eighty percent of her memories over the past few years. The smell of fresh bread and yeast wafted through the bistro. When she inhaled, she sneezed, squeezing the wet rag in her hand.
As usual, everyone else had already left for the night, and she still had several more hours of work ahead of her. Though Adalyn, Melanie, and Sarah always offered to help, Lena liked to close up alone and really take stock of what had been done that day.
While she looked out at the street, a sudden urge to talk with Tank seized her. As crazy as it sounded, she missed him. So what are you going to do about it? He hasn’t tried to find your number. It would’ve been easy for him to find out the name of her catering company. All he had to do was call the host and ask for it. No, she was just being silly. It was summer, the night warm and breezy, with the scent of jasmine and evening primrose flowing through the air.
But you told him you weren’t interested. Damn that tiny voice that kept niggling at the back of her mind. He probably doesn’t even think about me. He’s got Quinn Fitzgerald to keep him busy.
A few days after the engagement party, Lena had scoured the society page for any mention of the party, and a photo of Blondie with her fake smile and even faker boobs.
Quinn Fitzgerald.
Besides money, what did Quinn have that Lena would want?
Tank.
Grimacing, she turned her attention from the street and back to scrubbing the counter.
Lena
One week later
Lena packed the leftovers from the bread case into a few bags and shelved them for the nightly run to the homeless shelter. Rubbing her left shoulder, she winced at the tightness.
Adalyn popped her head into the kitchen. “Do you need anything else, Lena? I can run everything over tonight if you want to get home.”
“No, don’t worry about it. You have finals to study for this week.”
Leaning against the doorjamb, she gave Lena a knowing look. “I have an hour to spare.”
“Everything is fine. Go home, Adalyn.”
“Okay.” She slung her tote’s strap over her shoulder. “You’ll call if you need anything?”
“Yes.”
Lena watched as one of her best employees turned around and walked away. A few seconds later, she heard the small bell above the bistro’s door ring as she left. Lena saw a lot of herself in Adalyn: driven, overworked, and determined. Whenever she would remind Adalyn to slow down and have some fun, she could hear Fe saying, “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black”—one of Fe’s favorite expressions. It’s always easier to give advice than to follow it. But she worried about Adalyn’s crazy schedule. The college junior was studying for her nursing degree while working at the restaurant full-time, which was no easy feat. She wasn’t graced with the privilege that had made Lena’s life a lot easier than most. Both her parents had been doctors, and they had money put away for her education, which meant no student loan to repay—that was huge.
With a sigh, she stared off into space. It was exactly because of her fortunes in life that she was able to do what needed to be done to run a wonderful, thriving business.
Grateful for everything she had, Lena wanted to give something back to the community. She’d reached out to the Harvest Home Shelter for Women and arranged to drop off any unsold bread and leftover produce at the end of the day. Normally, Lena would send over an employee with boxes of food after the restaurant’s dinner rush, but that night, she’d decided to make the delivery herself.
The bell over the door rang.
“We’re closed for the night. Please come back tomorrow,” Lena called out. I forgot to lock the door after Adalyn left.
When she heard shuffling on the wooden floor of the restaurant, she wiped her hands on her apron and headed out of the kitchen. Maybe Adalyn had forgotten something. The young woman had left a textbook or two behind on more than one occasion.
She entered the front of the bistro. “Hello? Adal—”
Lena stopped in her tracks. Two tall, brawny guys stood in the middle of the restaurant, looking at the hand-painted salt and pepper shakers from France that sat on the top shelf of a wrought iron baker’s rack. A small shot of fear wrapped around her spine, but she forced a smile onto her face.
“I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the night. We open up tomorrow morning at eight. I meant to lock the door, but I was in the kitchen, trying out a new carrot cake recipe I created this past weekend. Anyway, I have something in the oven, so…”
The rest of her words hung unspoken in the air between them. One of the large men grunted and narrowed his eyes, while the other shifted from foot to foot, as if they had no intention of going anywhere. The bigger of the two stared at her, gripping his leather vest with both hands.
Shit. This isn’t going to be good.
She froze, but then she took a step back, thinking about the baseball bat she kept behind the counter. Calculating the distance between them, the counter, and herself, she didn’t think she’d be able to make it before either of them got to her first.
Her pulse thrummed in her temples until she could barely hear herself breathing.
The two men stood expressionless and silent, their fixed stares sending ice through her veins. If I had only locked the damn door. I have to get the hell out of here. Her eyes darted toward the kitchen behind her. Maybe I should make a run for it.
As if reading her mind, one of the men stepped right in front of her.
The tension in the air was palpable.
Swallowing, she gathered the frayed edges of her courage. “You—” She cleared her throat. “You gentlemen need to leave. I’ve already told you we’re closed for the night.” She did her best to make her voice sound strong and confident.
The man standing in front of her sneered. “We’re not here for food, sweet piece.” He looked at his partner, then back at Lena. “We’re here to tell you how it’s gonna be from now on. You’re gonna start paying bi-weekly dues.” His gaze slowly ran the length of her body. “And being a hot piece of ass don’t exempt you from collection.”
The man standing by the baker’s rack snorted. “But it may give you a discount if you play nice.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Taking another step back, she tried to covertly reach into her pocket for the phone. “I don’t owe anyone anything. I pay the licensing taxes and the vendors. I don’t even know you.”
The goon noticed her trying to slide her hand into her back pocket and lunged forward, pushing her until she was trapped against the back wall of the eatery, behind the display case.
“Dammit!” she cried out, her head slamming into the wall with enough force, she saw small ribbons of colored lights behind her eyelids.
“We’re here to do you a favor,” the man said. “You need protection. A pretty little thing like you” —he eased a jagged fingernail down the side of her face— “can have all sorts of bad things happen. I’m sure you don’t want that. We’re gonna be kind enough to step in and make sure you stay safe.”
The thug by the rack walked over to the display case, his grimy hands trailing along the freshly washed surface. “We’ll be real nice to you, so long as you’re nice to us. Otherwise, bad things happen to good people.”
Before she could blink, he shoved his black boot straight into the pastry case. Bits of shattered glass flew everywhere. Lena jerked backward, unable to move away with the wall at her back.
Her body went on alert, her hands recoiling in front of her in defense.
“See what can happen? That’s why you need protection, sweet cheeks.” The guy sauntered over and pressed up against her, making her skin crawl. “So make sure you treat us re
al good.”
The stench of perspiration, cheap cologne, and a few other unidentifiable odors made her stomach churn. All Lena wanted to do was give this jerk a swift kick to the nuts, and she knew she could pull it off. But she’d still have his friend to deal with, and something told her he was the more dangerous of the two.
“So whaddaya say, sweet cheeks?”
He was so close, she could feel his warm, rancid breath on her skin. She swallowed the bile rising up her throat as the pieces fell into place. These two thugs were trying to extort money from her. She’d heard about gangs preying on honest shopkeepers in ethnic neighborhoods in San Francisco, and she’d seen it a ton of times in gangster and crime movies, but never did she think something like that would happen to her in a small town. This is insane. But the two dangerous-looking men were real, and they wanted her hard-earned money.
“How much?” she whispered, barely able to make her lips move as the man she deemed more dangerous loomed over her, sneering, with a power trip gleaming in his eyes.
The extortionist didn’t take a single step back. Instead, he pressed forward until their foreheads were almost touching. She had to move her hands, or they would be wrapped up in his black T-shirt. She made a small noise in the back of her throat.
“Oh, you’re scared? Good—I like that.” He slapped his palms on either side of her head, boxing her into the small space even more. “You got to pay us fifteen percent of your gross every two weeks, sweet piece. I’ll be the one collecting” —he tipped his head toward his friend— “along with my buddy. You’ll be seeing us a lot. I like the” —he leaned forward until his lips were at her ear— “possibilities.”
There was nowhere for her to turn to get away, so she stiffened beneath his heavy weight and went still.
“We could have some real fun together,” he added.
Balling her hands into fists at her sides, Lena—reluctant and bold at the same time—met his gaze. “I can’t pay you that much—it’s impossible. After all my expenses, I can’t keep this place running and line your pockets. You’ll be out of a cash cow as soon as you collect from me. Is that what you want?”
“Feisty… I like it.” The man’s eyes glittered like hard diamonds as he tried to grab her chin, but she jerked away from his grasp. “What I want is what you owe us.” He pulled back a little and fixed his attention on her breasts. “If you can’t pay the full amount, we’ll find others ways to get it, so I suggest you figure it out. We’ll be back. And just so you know, we won’t be so nice or understanding the next time.”
Without warning, he backed away. She was finally able to drag in a breath of fresh air, even as her heart raced. She fought to stave off the impending panic attack, but she was set on memorizing every feature of the two morons who were leaving as casually as they’d arrived.
They each wore black leather vests that had the same patch: an insignia with the name Jagged Outlaws MC.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. As soon as the door banged shut, she rushed forward and flipped the lock into place, then slumped against the door and slid down until her behind hit the floor. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her cell phone and tapped the stored number to the local sheriff’s department.
“Hello? I want to report an extortion.” Lena nibbled the cuticle on her index finger. “I’m not sure how to do this.”
The man on the other end of the phone was professional and kind, but informed her she would have to come down to the station and give a statement.
Sighing, she rubbed the back of her neck. “I have to close my store, make a delivery, and then I’ll be there.”
After she hung up, she called the homeless shelter to tell them she was running late, but would be there shortly.
The ride over to the precinct was jerky. Her hands were shaking so badly, she could barely grip the wheel. Lena kept braking at every shadow, terrified it was the two outlaws following her in the dead of night. By the time she pulled into a space in the parking area, she was more than ready to get it over with. All she wanted was to go home, drink a glass of wine, and stare out at the ocean from the safety of her balcony. Suddenly, the desire to be wrapped in Tank’s strong arms seized her as she headed to the front of the building.
Shaking the image of him out of her head, she pushed open the door to the police station; a man behind a rickety old desk looked up from his laptop at her.
“May I help you?”
“I’m the woman who called about the extortion.”
The guy motioned with his thumb toward a hallway. “The sheriff wants you to see him personally about it. He’s the last door to the left. Come get me if you need anything else.”
Lena hiked up her purse and walked down the hall that seemed to go on forever until she stood in front of a large mahogany door and knocked.
“Come on in.”
She swallowed hard, placed her hand on the doorknob, and turned it. “Here goes nothing,” she mumbled quietly before entering the room.
Lena
After thirty minutes of going over the details for what seemed like the hundredth time, the sheriff reclined back in his leather chair and shook his head.
“I’m glad you came in tonight, but I’m afraid I’ve got bad news, Miss Labay. Unfortunately, what you say happened to you tonight can’t be corroborated. You told me there were no witnesses, and no one even passed by your establishment the entire time this incident took place. So far, what we have is your word against theirs, whoever these men are, so we can’t bring anything to the table right now. But, what I can do is promise you we’ll do our best to look into the matter. Does that sound good?”
“Have you had any other complaints from anyone else in the neighborhood about being shaken down?”
“Nope—you’re the first. We’ve never had anything like this in Santa Teresita. I’m thinking these two men saw a pretty lady and wanted to tease you a bit.”
“Breaking my thousand-dollar display case, manhandling and threatening me are not what I’d consider teasing.” The sheriff frowned, his lips pressing into a straight line of annoyance. “I just don’t want you to take this lightly. These men are demanding money from me, and I know they’ll be back. I was scared to death that they were going to do something horrible to me.”
“You’re a newcomer, so you don’t know the townspeople like I do. I’m not saying we won’t investigate the case. We’ll talk to the other businesses in the building to see if these two characters paid any of them a visit. Some macho-type guys like to scare pretty women.” He lifted his hands in the air. “I have no idea why. I guess it makes them feel more manly, but they’re really harmless.”
“These two didn’t seem like they were out to bolster their manhood. They meant what they said. I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything—we’ll do all the work. Every case that comes into this office is important. You gave me their descriptions, so that helps. I’ll make sure we get to the bottom of this. ”
Clutching her purse in her lap, Lena let out a long breath.
“Thank you. That’s all I needed to know.”
“Of course.” The slightly chubby man linked his hands together over his chest, staring at her across the expansive wooden desk. “We take things seriously, and anything we can do to rectify the matter will be done. You have my word.”
A wave of relief jolted through her system. Her shoulders relaxed, and she tucked her hair back into a messy bun with a sigh. It felt like a load of bricks had been shoved off her chest.
“Is there anything else?”
“No, that’s it.” Lena rose to her feet. “I hope you have a good night.” Turning, she walked out of the office and made her way outside.
The warm night breeze caressed her face, and the gentle rhythm of breaking waves echoed through the quiet streets. Standing under the star-filled sky, with the perfumed scent of blooming night plants, made the earlier incident at the eatery feel like it didn’t happen. It
was like she’d fallen asleep and had a nightmare, and now she was awake and all was good. But it wasn’t.
Santa Teresita had been her slice of heaven ever since she’d been a small girl. And after the death of her parents, it had become her refuge and haven. Now, the picture-perfect life she’d been building in the town for the past few years had been marred by two psychopaths who would make good on their promise.
Lena opened the car door and slipped inside. At least Sheriff Windsor would look into it, and he seemed dedicated to taking care of the injustice.
On the way home, she put Felicia on speakerphone and relived the ordeal, but it made her feel a lot better. In this case, being strong wasn’t enough. She knew that as she stuck the key into the front door of her beachfront condo. Felicia was ranting about a coworker who had made her job harder for over a week straight, and Lena took a second to look into her darkened home before she crossed the threshold.
She loved the place, but nothing felt safe right now. Turning on the flashlight from her phone, she shined it into the condo. Once she was satisfied there wasn’t anything in the immediate vicinity, she flipped on the front hallway light switch and went inside. A small part of her felt ridiculously stupid, but after what she went through a few hours before, she wasn’t taking any chances, nor assuming there weren’t any risks.
“Are you okay? You’ve been quiet for a while now,” Felicia questioned.
“I’m good.” Lena shut the door with her foot, leaned up against the wall, and put her tote bag on the floor. “Sorry. I was just checking the house for monsters.”
“I don’t blame you. Maybe if you’d hooked up with Tank, you wouldn’t be so freaked. He could’ve been your big, bad protector, and then you wouldn’t have to worry.”
