by Penny Dee
I was jealous of her freedom. Not just the freedom to roam but also the freedom from the darkness. Because she was wild and carefree. Untouched by the blackness. I was like the night, while she was pure fucking sunshine.
The hours seemed to pass like minutes.
“I suppose I should go,” she finally said, pulling out her phone.
“Let me give you a ride.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll call a cab.”
I watched her order her cab, not wanting her to leave even though I knew I should let her go.
When she hung up, I suddenly remembered I hadn’t paid her.
“Here … before I forget.” I handed her the wad of cash.
“There’s three hundred here. It’s too much.”
“You sang more than the agreed six songs. You earned it.”
“I couldn’t let my adoring fans down when they kept asking for more,” she joked.
“I think Joker became your number one fan.”
“Is that the guy with the epic mustache, who looks like a young James Hetfield from Metallica?”
“The one and only.”
“He had some killer chords.”
I chuckled. “I think he fell in love with you.”
When she smiled, something crackled between us. Our eyes remained locked together. And before my brain could fathom it, she leaned forward and grazed her lips across mine.
Fuck.
My breath left me with a desperate moan as her lips glided over mine. They tasted just as sweet as I thought they would, and I felt my entire body react. From the acceleration of my pulse to the thickening behind the zipper of my jeans. Because Jesus Christ, this woman had me to so turned on I couldn’t think.
But I couldn’t kiss her back. I wanted to. Badly. But I had to stop it, because if I didn’t I would do something stupid like take her beautiful face in my hands and kiss her a thousand ways to Sunday. And I wouldn’t stop there. After losing myself in her lips and the torture of her succulent mouth, I would take her to my room and peel every inch of clothing from her luscious body and spend the rest of the night making love to that amazing body of hers until neither of us could take any more.
I throbbed in my jeans just thinking about it and shifted awkwardly, resisting the urge to adjust myself.
I abruptly pulled away, and she looked up at me, startled.
“I’m sorry, did I misread the moment?” she asked, her cheeks slightly flushed.
“No, you didn’t,” I said, hating myself. My eyes dropped to her luscious lips, and my entire being begged me to kiss them again.
To just say fuck it and dive right in.
But I wouldn’t.
Because this girl deserved more than what she was asking for.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Cassidy,” I said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “But you’re kissing a goddamn frog. You should stick with the princes.”
She looked down and her brow wrinkled with a frown as she considered what I’d said.
When she looked up, the brightness was gone from her eyes. Either I had hit some kind of nerve or she felt rejected.
In a way, I kind of needed her to feel that way. Because if she came at me with that kiss again, I couldn’t be held responsible for what happened next—which would be a whole lot of kissing and a fuck-ton of me exploring every inch of that beautiful body of hers with every part of my body that was capable of getting hard.
I was so lost thinking about the things I wanted to do to her, I didn’t realize her cab had arrived.
“I suppose I should get going then,” she said, climbing off the table and pulling on her denim jacket. I watched her pick up her guitar. “Thanks for tonight. I had a good time.”
I climbed off the table and followed her over to where the cab was waiting. Something hung in the air between us. Something unsaid. A broken kiss. A missed opportunity. An instant attraction. She bit down on her bottom lip, and I fought back a groan, wanting desperately to taste her again.
But the moment passed quickly, and she turned away to open the car door.
“Will I see you again?” I asked before I could stop myself.
She turned back to look at me, those fucking amazing blue eyes sparkling like sapphires in the dim light.
“I don’t think so. I’m leaving town tomorrow.” She held up the cash I’d just given her. “Now that I can afford that bus ticket out of here, who knows where I’ll end up.” She smiled and damn if that smile didn’t crush my heart.
With nothing left to say, she climbed in, closed the door, and the cab pulled away. I watched it leave the parking lot, and as the taillights disappeared into the darkness, I couldn’t help but wonder what I had just let slip through my fingers.
CASSIDY
I was pleased I was leaving town so I never, ever had to see him again.
I was embarrassed. The kind of embarrassed where you wished the floor would open up and swallow you down to Middle Earth.
Thinking he was interested in me, I’d practically shoved my tongue down his throat, when in reality he was just being nice. I groaned and felt my cheeks flush with heat. I looked at the six fifty-dollar bills in my hand and felt relieved. They were my ticket out of this damn town.
The lights were on in the house when the cab pulled up at the curb, and I couldn’t get inside quick enough to show Missy the money. I hadn’t seen her to tell her about the gig at the clubhouse, but I knew when she saw the money, she’d be just as excited as I was.
She was in the bedroom we shared, sitting on her bed scrolling through her phone.
“Get packing, honey. We’re out of here,” I said excitedly, grabbing my already packed bag out from under the bed. I swung around, my heart blooming with excitement and an urgency to leave. “Where do you think we should go? New Orleans? Atlanta? New York? God, I’ve always wanted to go there.” I grabbed my gold Hope necklace off the shabby old dresser by the window and put it on. “They say Central Park is mind-blowing when it’s covered in snow.” I turned around. Missy hadn’t moved and was as still as a mouse. “We can go anywhere we want—”
“I’m pregnant,” she said quickly. And all of a sudden the air vanished from the room.
I straightened. “To who?”
I didn’t know she was having sex.
Missy’s face came alive. “Johnny,” she said.
My mind worked quickly to put all the pieces together.
“You mean, Johnny Miller—your boss at the bar?”
She nodded and crossed the room to sit on my bed, tucking one leg under her.
“Oh, Cassidy, he’s treatin’ me real nice,” she gushed. “Always kissing me and stuff. Callin’ me beautiful, telling me he can’t stop thinking about me. He calls me his doll face. And he has this real nice way about him.”
“But he’s married!”
She raised her chin slightly. “He loves me.”
All I could do was gape at her.
“But... he’s married!” I reminded her again.
A storm cloud passed over her lovely face. “He’s going to leave his wife for me.”
“Did he say that?”
“Yes. Last night. When we were making love.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
Missy took my hand. “Please be excited for me, Cassidy. I’m so happy. Please say you’ll stay and help me with the baby. I know you don’t like it here. I know Craig makes you feel uncomfortable. But Johnny and I will get a house and you can come live with us. You can help me with the baby.” She shook my hands because I was non-responsive. “Please say you’ll stay and help me.”
Slowly, I turned my head to look at her. I felt like the wind had been kicked out of me. I hadn’t seen this coming.
I owed Missy a lot. She taught me how to survive on nothing as we traveled from one adventure to another. She also saved my life. Last year when we were traveling from Scottsdale to Phoenix, the car we were riding in crashed and flipped on an almost em
pty desert highway. I was trapped in the front seat, hanging upside down and unconscious. A fire started in the engine and smoke began to fill the car. Missy was able to crawl out her window. When I came to, she was undoing my seatbelt and pulling me from the wreckage while the driver was on the phone to the police. A minute later the car erupted into a ball of fire.
I owed her my life. I couldn’t leave her now when she needed me.
“Of course I’ll stay and help,” I said, forcing a smile.
Suddenly, getting out of Destiny was an impossibility, and I had to fight back the nausea when the realization hit me.
I was stuck here.
CASSIDY
Two days later, I started work at a diner in town.
It was only three hours a day, four days a week. The money was bad, but despite being on the wrong side of the river where the homes were trailers and there were more bars than stores, most of the customers were good tippers.
Plus, Molly Jenkins, the owner, was kind of cool. Somewhere in her sixties, she flustered easily and was angry, prone to eye-rolling and head-shaking, but she hadn’t lost her sense of humor, even after life had given her two dud husbands and three no-hope kids. She was kind. Funny. She also knew a desperate case when she saw one. Because even though I had absolutely no waitressing experience whatsoever, she threw me a lifeline and gave me a job.
She also threw in breakfast. Because according to her, I was too skinny and looked like I would disappear if I turned sideways. So before my shift started, she all but force-fed a bowl of grits and gravy into me. Which was good because when I’d gone to make toast before work, I discovered Craig and Missy had eaten all the bread.
There was one other waitress besides me, Molly’s grand-niece Daisy, a chatty drama queen who liked her uniform as tight as it was short and her heels as high as they were shiny. She wore a lot of makeup and chewed gum like it was exercise. She was fun, confident, and flirty. Straight away, she had my back. When I spilled milk on the lap of a rather pissed-off trucker, she swooped in to take care of matters, and after a lot of flirting and eyelash batting, she had him convinced it was completely his fault and not mine. She was good at her job. Great at PR. And had the opposite sex eating out of her hand.
She made my first day fun.
Not to mention saved my ass more than a couple of times.
Because, hell, waitressing was a lot harder than it looked.
After the lunch crowd cleared and the afternoon diners came and went, Daisy and I heard the approaching rumble of Harleys. We stood at the window, and Daisy pulled down the curtain for us to watch five bikers rumble past, all of them looking like formidable gods with their dark glasses and cuts as they controlled big metallic beasts between their legs. We watched as they disappeared down the street to where they pulled up to a cigar bar, reversing their bikes to park in front of the curb.
Daisy looked like a lovesick teenager.
“They’re so dreamy,” she sighed.
“They’re bikers,” I said. “Outlaws.”
“They’re not just any bikers, Cassidy. They’re Kings.”
Right.
My mistake.
She pushed the curtain down further to get a better view of them.
“See the one that looks like Jason Momoa …? That’s Maverick. He’s so hot he could melt iron,” she gushed. “Oh, look, there’s Cade. He’s their VP and is married to Indy, who is a doctor. Next to him is his brother Caleb—oh my God he is so delicious I could eat him with a spoon. His wife owns a cupcake shop on the other side of town and is expecting twins.”
She seemed to know an awful lot about them. And I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.
“The one climbing off his bike … that’s their president, Bull.”
I thought about Bull and his piercing, ethereal eyes. I had only met him briefly the other night.
“And there’s Chance...” She sighed dreamily, resting her head against the glass window. “That boy is pure sex on a stick.”
A small thrill ran up my spine at the mention of his name. I looked out the window, and my eyes lingered on him as he climbed off his bike and secured his helmet to his handlebars.
“You know a lot about them,” I said, ignoring the lust pooling between my thighs.
I didn’t tell her that I had played at the Kings of Mayhem clubhouse two days earlier. Or about Chance chasing down the would-be thief to get my money back. Or how damn sexy he looked as we sat out under the stars and talked for hours.
And I certainly didn’t mention how I had practically assaulted him with my mouth as we waited for my cab to arrive.
Because when you spend your life running from your past, it becomes second nature to keep things to yourself.
The flush of embarrassment licked at my cheeks again when I thought about the kiss. And how for just a second those lips had felt so incredibly amazing against my own.
Without thinking, I reached up and touched my mouth, as if the brush of his lips still lingered there.
“Around here, they’re a big deal,” Daisy explained. “A lot of local girls try to get their hands on a King. Even for just a night, you know?”
I did know.
Two nights ago I was one of those girls, entertaining the idea of a night with my King.
My King?
Oh hell no.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I had no King.
He had made that as plain as the sky was blue.
I sighed and shook my head, refocusing on Daisy.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Old enough,” she said, looking at me with a wicked gleam in her lust-filled eyes. She turned back to the window and sighed. “Boy, what I’d give for one night with any of them.”
“Even the married ones?” I raised an eyebrow at her.
“Any of them. But of course Cade and Caleb are all about their wives and would never cheat on them. And Maverick … well, apparently he’s so smitten by his girlfriend he’s asked her to marry him like a thousand times even though she keeps saying no every time. And Bull... well, everyone knows he lost his heart years ago when his wife died in a car wreck. The rumor is he swore he’d never fall in love again. But a girl can fantasize.” She pressed her hand to the glass. “I guess that leaves Chance.”
Again, my heart started to dance at the mere mention of his name.
Because, clearly, I was losing my mind.
I shook my head to get the craziness out of it as I walked away, leaving Daisy to her King stalking. It would be stupid for me to get caught up in it. As soon as I worked out a new plan, I would be moving on from this town.
Carrying a tray of dishes, I pushed through the swing doors leading into the kitchen and headed toward the sink. Lost in ridiculous thoughts about how good Chance looked climbing off his bike, I didn’t see Molly walking in the back door from the alleyway before it was too late. She opened the door and it sent the tray of dishes in my hand flying. Coffee sloshed down the front of my uniform as cups and plates smashed to the floor.
“Oh my God, Molly, I’m so sorry!” I cried.
I dropped to my knees and began picking up pieces of shattered porcelain.
“It’s okay, pet. Don’t fret.”
She crouched down and began helping me clean up the mess.
“I’m not usually so clumsy,” I said, feeling like a klutz. First the spilled milk on the truckers lap then a dropped piece of cherry pie on the floor. Now this. My first day could end up being my last day.
“No point in crying over spilled milk,” Molly said.
“Or in this case coffee,” Daisy added lamely from the doorway.
I looked at her with a sarcastic thank you then turned back to Molly.
“I really am sorry. Please let me pay for the dishes.”
But Molly brushed it off. “Don’t worry your pretty head over it. Best you go home and get yourself cleaned up. No point hanging around here any longer looking like you mopped the floor
with your blouse.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. And make sure you take that there box of leftovers I’ve fixed you.” She pointed to a white cardboard box sitting on the counter.
“Well that’s just great! She breaks dishes and gets an early mark,” Daisy huffed, dramatically throwing her hands up in the air. “And she gets dinner!”
She pushed the swinging doors leading out into the café and resumed her spot at the window, dreamily gazing down the street.
“I really am sorry,” I said to Molly again. “You’re not going to call me later and tell me to not come in on Friday, are you?”
She smiled warmly as she patted my cheek. “I’ll see you back here at ten o’clock.”
I was so relieved I could’ve hugged her. Now that I was staying in this town, I needed this job.
“Thank you. I promise, no more broken dishes.”
As I passed Daisy, she smiled at me. “Good work today.”
“Really? You think I can make it as a waitress?”
“No. But I like having you around.” She gave me a wink. “See you Friday.”
I left the café with a smile on my face and walked home in the late afternoon sunlight, armed with a box of leftovers that included sandwiches, potato salad, and a slice of pecan pie.
Thirty minutes later, I walked down my street but came to a halt as soon as I saw the car in the driveway. It was a Pontiac. An unfamiliar Pontiac.
Fear began a slow crawl up my spine. In six weeks, Craig and Missy had never had a visitor. Craig was basically a loner, and Missy did most of her socializing at the bar where she worked.
I approached the porch cautiously and paused at the front door, listening for voices, but all I could hear was someone playing a Metallica song on an electric guitar. I frowned and pushed the screen door open, stepping inside where I found Craig sitting in the living room, murdering “Wherever I May Roam.”
What the hell?
Since when did Craig own an electric guitar?
My eyes went to the Xbox packaging beside him on the couch.
Or an Xbox for that matter?
I looked around at the discarded boxes of things littering the floor.
