by Mara McBain
Ginny beamed. “Thank you. Of course, I have to thank a lot of people for sharing copies of their pictures and different pieces of memorabilia. The town really came together for The Lantern.”
“The restaurant is a big piece of the town’s history,” Tawny said. “I remember my grandparents taking me there every Sunday after church for dinner and spending the whole time studying the pie list up on the chalkboard, trying to decide what kind I wanted after I cleaned my plate.”
“I used to do that too,” Ginny said, smiling at Tawny and the shared memory. “The designer suggested one of those electronic message boards with the scrolling specials and desserts, but I had to keep the chalkboard.”
“The special paint so the whole wall behind the bar is chalkboard is so neat. I think it would be so much fun in a kid’s room,” Lee said, her dark eyes sparkling at the thought of babies.
“That’s a cute idea, Lee,” Ginny said, giving the girl’s hand a squeeze. “Anyway, lunch is on me. The food is fabulous. They have burgers, steaks, seafood, but their prime rib is legendary. Order up. This is why we told the guys not to expect supper.”
“I still can’t believe I said that to Reaper.”
Everyone laughed at the girl’s guilty giggle.
“Mox said some of them were getting together to play cards, so they’ll probably order pizza.”
“It does the spoiled babies good to have to fend for their selves once in a while.”
“This beats the microwave magic I was going to perform tonight,” Tawny said with a grin.
“Amen, sister,” Rain agreed with a high-five.
Placing the last gift under their tree, Eva plugged in the lights and stepped back to admire the pretty Douglas-fir. The frosted blue bulbs and crystal snowflake ornaments were stunning, backlit by the white lights. It was the most beautiful tree she’d ever seen.
She wished her grandmother was here to see it. Gran loved Christmas. Her tree was always decorated with a mix-match of handmade ornaments and strings of popcorn and cranberries. Eva smiled, remembering the delicate angel in a gold embroidered gown that graced the tree top. Grandpa had brought it home from overseas, and it was one of Gran’s most treasured possessions. It would be hers someday.
Eva turned at the stomp of boots on the stairs. Mox’s voice was clear as he harassed Rhys, telling his brother that his handsome face wasn’t so helpful in poker. Giggling at Rhys’ obscenity laced response, she headed for the kitchen and was adding cinnamon sticks to the hot cider when Mox slid his hands under her shirt.
“Sweet Jesus!” she gasped as his cold fingers cupped her breasts.
“Glad I can get you in the spirit of the season,” he chuckled, nuzzling her ear.
“Someone’s in a good mood tonight. I take it poker went well?”
“Well, that depends on who you ask,” he said, his dancing gaze shifting to Rhys who just flipped him the bird. “I ended up a little over four hundred up, but I think most of it was Rhys’.”
Wincing in sympathy, Eva slipped from Mox’s arms to offer Rhys a mug and a plate of cookies.
“At least your woman isn’t rubbing it in. Thank-you.”
“Why would I do that? And I figured it was the least I could do for making my man four hundred dollars richer,” Eva giggled.
Both guys roared with laughter, and Rhys gave her a good-natured kick in the ass as she made her escape.
Chapter ~ 25
The smell of cocoa butter and dueling body sprays permeated the cramped dressing room. Tawny looked up from her nails as the din of voices fell quiet. Only the antiquated boom-box in the corner broke the silence. Her eyes met Chelios’ in the mirror. She held her breath, praying beyond hope that the stare was for someone else. It wasn’t meant to be. The room cleared at the barest nod of his head.
Her hands shook so hard she struggled to put the lid back on the nail polish. Teeth sinking into her bottom lip, Tawny searched her mind for something to say as she slowly turned to face him. Somehow, he was right behind her. She opened her mouth to apologize, to explain it wasn’t her fault, but he put a finger to her lips.
“There’s nothing to explain. Either your hometown loyalty won out, or you are more afraid of a bunch of weekend warriors on Harley Davidsons than you are me.” She opened her mouth again, but his finger pressed harder, and he shook his head.
“Shut up.” He waited for her lips to press back together, and then continued. “It doesn’t matter. The outcome is the same. You fucked up. Funny thing is, the result is the same, too. In your line of work, I would have thought you’d better understand the importance of pleasing a man. Allow me to give you a refresher.”
Pain exploded behind her eye as a savage backhand whipped her head around. The second blow knocked her off the stool. Covering her head, she tried to protect her face. Fingers tightened around her bicep, hauling her upright. She came up fighting. Nails raking over his emotionless face, she struggled to break his hold. Her head bounced off the dressing table as he flung her across the room.
His face swam in and out of focus as she tried to get back to her feet. His flat features were no longer emotionless. Rage glittered in his eyes, and his lip curled in a snarl as he carefully wiped a drop of blood from his split lip. Licking the pad of his thumb off, he smiled at her. Tawny’s blood ran cold.
Abandoning standing, she scrambled for the door on her hands and knees. He caught her by the back of the neck, driving her head into the floor. Darkness beckoned. Shaking her head, she fought the pull. He flipped her onto her back. She tried to curl up, but he straddled her, knees digging deep into her biceps. Her mouth opened in a wail as his fist tightened in her hair, yanking her head back.
“Listen to me.”
Her lungs were burning, his weight making it difficult to breath. The escape of unconsciousness taunted her. It was so close. She reached for it, body going slack under him. He shook her head violently with the fist full of hair, giving her cheek a not so gentle pat with his free hand.
“I like you, so I’m going to give you another chance. Don’t fuck this up.”
Chapter ~ 26
Tiny beads of sleet skimmed over the ground in white swirls, the frigid air holding the promised snow at bay. Eva hunched her shoulders against the bitter wind and burrowed her nose into her scarf as she hurried across the street. Hearing the tears in Tawny’s voice on the phone, she hadn’t even waited to warm the truck up. Pulling her head up, she squinted at the store signs, judging the distance to the bakery. Spotting it, she broke into a trot.
A rush of warm air and the smell of fresh pastries met her as she stumbled in the door. Eva hesitated for the briefest moment between her need for something warm and her friend huddled miserably in a back booth. The woman behind the counter saw her indecision.
“Coffee?”
“Hot chocolate, please.”
“I’ll bring it right out to you, honey.”
“Thank you,” Eva said fervently, pulling off her gloves as she hurried back to Tawny. She froze. More than tears marked her friend’s cheeks. She dropped into a squat beside Tawny’s bench. Her hand shook as she pushed hair back from the blonde’s battered face. “What happened?” she whispered, though she didn’t really need to ask. She’d seen the damage a man’s fists left behind too many times, sometimes on others, and sometimes in the mirror.
Tawny flinched away, a low sob breaking the silence.
Urging the crying woman to slide over, Eva settled in the booth beside her and hugged her gently. There was no telling what pain lay hidden under the layers of clothing.
“Can I get you girls anything else?”
Eva smiled up at the older woman, Miriam by her name tag, and shook her head. “No. Thank you.”
Miriam’s eyes held understanding as she nodded and moved away. Eva wondered if all women felt a man’s fist at one point or another in their life. The thought reminded her again that it was a man’s world.
Taking a warming sip of her hot chocolate, she w
aited for the sobs to die down.
Tawny fumbled in her purse, checking her phone before pulling out a crumpled tissue. “I can’t believe it still surprises me,” she whispered.
Eva nodded with a grimace. As many times as she had felt pain at Rocco’s hand, the initial blow always caught her heart off guard. “How bad is it? Do you need to go to the emergency room?”
Tawny shook her head adamantly. “I’ll be fine.”
“Who did this?”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I called you.”
“Because you needed a friend,” Eva said softly. “Someone who would understand what you’re going through.”
“Why do you even give a fuck? I slept with your man.”
Eva smiled. “You slept with Mox before I came on the scene. I never assumed he was a virgin or a saint, and, besides, you might be the only woman in Trinity whose taste in men I don’t find highly questionable.”
Tawny snorted through fresh tears. “I never did get why he didn’t have an old lady. He’s a good looking kid and hung like a bull.”
“It worries me that you won’t tell me who did this to you,” Eva said, plucking at her bottom lip with her teeth. “Do I know him?”
Tawny wadded the soggy tissue in her hand. Sinister silence hung between them, an answer without words. When she looked up, the pity in Tawny’s eyes was like a sharp punch in the gut. Air left Eva’s lungs, and she felt her head shaking back and forth in pleading negativity. Not Mox. Her vision of Tawny’s battered features swam through a veil of tears. She wanted to scream that it wasn’t possible, but anything was possible in the right situation.
Fear flashed across Tawny’s face a moment before the jangling bell above the door announced another customer. Eva’s gaze locked on the familiar face, and she forgot to breathe. The bitch had set her up. Terror crawled up her spine. Her eyes darted past the dispassionate enforcer, searching for Rocco. There was no sign of the bastard. Beside her, Tawny shrank away from Chelios’ advance. Stopping at the table, he gave a dismissive jerk of his head.
“Get out of here.”
Tawny slid under the table, scrambling out the other side of the booth and all but running from the bakery. Eva wanted to follow her, but her legs wouldn’t obey. Knees shaking, she waited for the inevitable. She was going to die.
“You’re a difficult woman to find, Miss Taylor.”
“Obviously not difficult enough, Mr. Chelios.”
He gave her a tight smile. “I’ve missed your spark.”
“I don’t believe you came all the way to Trinity Falls for a battle of the wits,” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm while her mind raced, looking for a way out.
“You always were a smart girl. I’m counting on that intelligence to persuade you to do the right thing.”
“And what is the right thing?”
“It would be in every ones best interest if you come with me.”
“And what then, Mr. Chelios? I throw myself at Rocco’s feet and beg him for mercy he doesn’t possess?”
“He won’t give up.” The sharp clip of his tone hinted at both his and Rocco’s impatience.
“I know,” Eva said, hugging herself as a chill worked down her spine.
“Let me take you home.”
“That was never my home.”
“Use your head. It will be better for you to go back to him than to have him find you.”
“You and I both know that the result will be the same.”
“If you continue to defy him, people are going to get hurt.”
“And If I go back, he’ll kill me,” she whispered, closing her eyes to block out Chelios’ predatory stare. When had death stopped being a foregone conclusion, welcome even, and become something to fear? Her heart jolted painfully in her chest at the sound of a motorcycle in town, and provided the answer. Eva had only been a teenager when she’d decided love was a pipedream. Mox had proved her wrong.
Chelios turned toward the storefront, the Harley’s rumble catching his attention as well. Eva’s gaze shot to Miriam behind the counter. The older woman’s lips were set in a firm white line, her slender form ramrod stiff as she fussed with the coffee mugs.
“Are you expecting your white knight? I’d like to meet him.”
A knot of fear threatened to close Eva’s throat at the soft comment, and her wide eyes swung back to Chelios. His expression was inscrutable.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He tilted his head to the side and gave it a chiding shake. His lips quirked in the barest of smiles. “I’m sure that Rocco will be very interested in meeting Detective Brawer’s bastard.”
The flare of anger she felt at Chelios’ crass words concerning Mox’s parentage was in contrast to the icy stab of fear those same words elicited. He met her glare, letting the words sink in. Eva wrapped her hands around her mug of hot chocolate, fantasizing about pitching it in his smug face.
“Their meeting can be prevented. It’s in your hands. Until now, I’ve seen no reason to fuel the flames. Rocco knows nothing about your indiscretion.”
“Indiscretion?” Eva choked on the word. Was that what Mox was? Could the best weeks of her life be considered nothing more than a rebellious liaison? She almost laughed at the thought. Blue eyes filled with tears, and she mutely shook her head, fighting for breath to dispute Chelios’ trivializing words.
“You didn’t bite on the forever line did you, kiddo? That Kool-Aid isn’t for the likes of us. We’re realists. Life’s a bitch and then we die.”
The gruff understanding in the enforcer’s voice made it worse.
“You come back with me now, and the boss doesn’t need to know anything about lover boy.”
The bell over the door jangled. The deputy’s gaze was suspicious. His hand rested pointedly on his sidearm. Chelios rolled his eyes, and Eva prayed the small town lawman didn’t have a hero complex. She knew the dangerous Greek was armed.
“Everything okay here, Miriam?”
Miriam’s eyes met Eva’s in question.
“Yes. I was just getting ready to pay my bill. I’m sorry about that, Miriam.”
“It’s not a problem, honey. Is that friend of yours going to be okay? She looked a little rough, and she practically ran out the door.”
“She will be fine. Just man problems,” Eva whispered, making a show of digging in her purse for cash. She couldn’t meet the deputy’s eye as she stepped around Chelios and hurried to the counter.
She tensed when Rocco’s goon followed her. Was it safer to stay here? Would he follow her back to the apartment? Should she say something to the officer? Hands shaking, she dropped her change. Chasing the circling quarter, Eva cursed under her breath. Why the hell had she walked instead of bringing the truck? The answer didn’t improve her mood. Because she was stupid and had trusted Tawny.
Handing the money to Miriam, finally, she waved away the change and headed to the door.
“Are you new to town, Mr.…?” the deputy asked.
Eva chanced a glance back. The officer had stepped between Chelios and the door and was now waiting for an answer. Eva sent up a prayer of thanks and dashed out the door. Breaking into a stumbling run, she kept looking over her shoulder. The cold air burned her lungs. She would never make it to the apartment before Chelios escaped the deputy’s questioning.
A familiar logo on a store window was like a Godsend. Stealing one last frantic peek behind her, she dashed into the electronics store. Not even bothering to explain her plight, she circled behind the sales counter and allowed her shaky legs to collapse. Scooting across the floor on her butt, she pressed into the cubby under the counter and shook.
Tech scanned the storefront, big body tense as he searched for the threat.
“The bitch was supposed to be my friend, and she set me up,” Eva whispered, hugging her knees to her chest as the tears flowed.
“What’s going on, Eva. Talk to me. Who set you up?”
�
�She called, crying and wanting to talk. I met her at the bakery, and Chelios showed up. She knew. She set me up,” Eva choked out, anger raising her voice.
“You’re okay now, baby. Who fucked you over?” Tech drawled, trying to soothe her while keeping his eyes on the door.
“That bitch, Tawny. She fucked my man and fucked me over!”
The big man couldn’t contain a grin at the woman’s righteous indignation, but he sobered quickly. If Tawny had turned on the club, his brothers needed to know. She’d put Eva in danger. Tawny had been around a long time, and the women trusted her. Ginny would be livid. Jesus, Crux would be crazed if he thought his pregnant wife was in any jeopardy.
Tech forced his focus to the receipts spread out on the countertop as a now familiar figure strolled in front of the store. He had to give it to the guy; Constantine Chelios was one cool customer. He seemed impervious to the frigid temperatures as he peered in the window, his body language relaxed like any other shopper.
The seconds ticked by. Tech could feel the man sizing him up, his sharp gaze probing the store. Eva didn’t make a peep. Chelios reached for the door handle, his hand resting on the cold metal. Keeping his eyes down and the tension from his big frame took all Tech had as he waited for the door to open. His hand itched for the Glock under the counter.
The gritty strains of Shinedown’s Lynyrd Skynyrd cover rolled from his cell phone. Bowie’s intense emerald stare flashed up on the ID. Tapping the screen, Tech answered the call.
“Tech’s.”
“Get to the bakery. Eva’s got company again,” Bowie barked over the roar of bikes and wind.
“Negative. Pretty little thing is keeping me company, but the big bad wolf is at the door,” Tech drawled.
Bowie snorted on the other end, and the line went dead. The electronic chime on the door announced the end of Chelios’ indecision. Tech offered a friendly grin that he knew was at odds with his unique gothic biker look.
“Can I help you?”
To his credit, the cool bastard didn’t bother with deception.
