Janet, my boss, walks around the counter and starts to help by refilling the salt shakers. "I really appreciate you staying tonight, Grace," she says with an exhausted breath.
"You're welcome, Janet. Truth be told, I could use the extra money," I admit.
"Sorry I can't offer you more hours on a regular basis, hon. I wish I could, but ever since the plant down the road shut down we've lost all the business it brought in," she tells me with worry in her voice.
I'd been in town for a little over a week before I decided to stay awhile. At least long enough to save some more money and decide what my next move was going to be. Anyway, Janet's diner was the last place in town I hadn’t been to. She isn’t wrong in saying she can't afford much. On an average day, we possibly get a few dozen patrons at best come through here for something to eat. Most of her customers are truckers passing through to Canada. I'm guessing she took pity on me the day I walked in asking for a job. Once she let me down as sweet as possible that she wasn’t hiring, I sat at a table picking at a sandwich for the better part of two hours trying to strategize what town I would travel to next. Before getting up to leave, Janet had stopped me and offered me a job after all. I started the very next day. "I'm more than grateful for the hours I do have, Janet. No need to apologize." I toss my cleaning cloth onto the counter and start removing my apron.
"You ready?" She asks, her keys jingling in her hand as she flings her bag over her shoulder.
My car gave out on me this morning on my way to work. Just sputtered out and died. I'm sure ignoring the check engine light for over a month might have had something to do with it. My extent of mechanical knowledge ends after checking the oil and changing a tire. But, getting it repaired will have to wait until I've saved up a few more paychecks. Until then, Janet has offered to give me a ride home, and Ben, the cook here offered to tow it to the local garage for me over the weekend. "More than ready," I yawn.
Stepping outside, I wait for Janet to lock the door before we get into her old rusty truck. It’s a standard. Something I've heard everyone should learn how to drive, but I never did. Growing up in a city environment we commuted either by foot, train, or bus. "I appreciate the ride, Janet. Hopefully, in the next couple weeks, I can get my car looked at. I hope it’s a minor repair," I express to her. My phone vibrates in the front pocket of my jeans. Pulling it out, I swipe my finger across the screen to read the text message and smile.
"If you don’t mind coming in an hour earlier I can pick you up in the morning, and I'm sure we can find you a ride once your shift ends tomorrow," she offers as she rolls her truck to stop at the only traffic light in town.
"I don’t mind at all," I tell her. Reaching into my purse, I find my keys as Janet pulls into the small parking space in front of the duplex I share with the guy next door.
"Alright, hon. I'll see you in the morning. Take care and get some rest." She smiles warmly.
Opening the truck door, I slide out. "Goodnight, Janet, and thanks again," I tell her. After closing the door, I look over my shoulder giving her a smile and a small wave as I unlock my door. She waits for me to walk inside before I hear her tires crunch the gravel and pull away.
Dog tired I kick my shoes off at the door letting them land wherever and toss my purse on the table sitting near the front window. Eager to soak in a warm bath, I wander down the hall peeling my clothes off along the way. Flipping the dim light on over the bathroom sink, I drop my shirt into the hamper. After turning the water on I let the tub start to fill before adding some honey milk bubble bath. It’s the one splurge I allow for myself. Reaching behind my back, I unclasp my bra and let out a satisfied sigh. I swear freeing the girls at the end of the day has to be one of the best feelings in the world. Once I've peeled my jeans down my legs I discard them with the rest of my clothes and throw them in the hamper and step into the tub. The instant I submerge myself in the warm water, and take in the scent of honey, my tired muscles relax. I allow myself for a few minutes to drift off. Not asleep, I meditate. Clear my mind. I was taught to do this a long time ago. Finding my center and meditation has helped me overcome many mental obstacles. It's helped me to focus.
The stillness I'm sated in is abruptly broken with a knock on the front door. Assuming it's my neighbor, who has made it clear on more than one occasion he likes me, I ignore it. Not that he isn’t a good-looking guy. He's just…not him. He knocks yet again. Sighing, I abandoned my attempts to enjoy the rest of my night in the tub.
Climbing out I quickly dry, and throw my robe on, and tie the sash snuggly around my waist. Before I make it down the short hallway, he knocks again, this time a little harder than the time before. Irritation sets in and normally I'm not confrontational. I keep to myself, but I've just done a double shift. I've been on my feet all day, and I've had my fair share of men for the day. I let all this make me momentarily forget that I should never open the door without looking out the window first or make the person on the other side announce who they are. Without thinking I swing the front door open. I'm shocked to see the person staring back at me. Detective Finn O'Rourke. "Why are you here?"
With one hand on the door frame and the other at his side, He stands, filling my front doorway. His eyes trained on mine he opens his mouth, "Anna, what are you doing?"
What am I doing? Why the hell would he ask me what I'm doing? I'm doing the same damn thing I've been doing for two years. Hiding. Surviving. I glare at him and cross my arms under my breasts. "Don’t call me Anna." I stare him down, hard, and do my best to be intimidating. By the small smirk appearing on his face, I'm apparently not doing a very good job of convincing him not to mess with me. Why would it? I'm the size of a toddler compared to Finn.
"First," he stands at his full height getting ready to give me a speech, "you opened this fucking door without checking to see who was standing on the other side and two-you've been MIA for the better part of a month. I'm worried about you. Now, are you going to make my ass stand out here all night?" He chastises.
I knew he would show up eventually. I step aside clearing a path for him to walk past me. I close and lock the door and join him where he has taken a seat on the couch.
Softening his approach, he questions me again, "Seriously Grace, why? Help me understand why you left Polson?"
Do I tell him the truth? Hell, do I want to hear the truth spoken aloud? I bury my face in the palms of my hands. My life is one big mess. It has been going on for a couple of years now. A little more than two years ago Finn helped me escape, and I mean this quite literally, from an abusive relationship. When I say, I don’t believe I would be alive today if I stayed I'm not kidding. The man I fell in love with so many years ago turned out to be the monster you find in nightmares. One evening Ronan beat me so severely he had no choice but take me to the hospital. Of course, everything about that little trip was a lie too. I always went along with his lies-helping him cover up the truth with deception. O'Rourke was there that night to take my false statement but saw through me. Saw I was covering something up. Somehow, he managed to slip into my room when Ronan decided to leave. Finn called me out. Told me I could trust him. I don’t know what made me believe in the words he had to say that night, but I did. Everything in that one moment came together. Someone was finally willing to help me and to stay alive; I took his help. I gave him my trust. I put all my faith in a man I didn’t know. Before the hospital discharged me a few days later, he had arranged everything to helped me disappear. Money, a new name, even a car.
Turns out Ronan, who is legally still my husband, didn’t like the fact I walked out on him, so he has been on the hunt and we have become his prey. Living in fear isn’t living. No matter where I am. I stayed in Polson far longer than I should have. Far longer than I let myself stay anywhere else. Somehow, he always catches wind of where I might be, and Finn helps me find a new town. Polson turned out to be different. At one point I did think maybe he had abandoned the search for us. That he just gave up. I'm so tired of running. Tired
of my life being a big lie. Hiding from people I started to care for. I tell myself I'm stronger than this. Pull it together. You have more than yourself to think about. I'm making sacrifices to keep us safe. I pull in a shuddered breath trying to hold my emotions in. "I allowed myself to get too close to people," I confess.
"You mean you let yourself get close to Jake Delane," Finn states.
I lift my head and give him a blank stare, which he sees right through, but I don’t offer him any more. Why should I? None of it matters anyway. I left. I'm not going back.
"Don't try to feed me bullshit. I picked Polson because I felt it would be a safe town for you put some roots in, Grace. Jake and his club are good people. If you're there I know you'll be safe," he tries to convince me.
I shake my head from side to side, "It doesn’t matter, Finn. As long as he is still out there and not behind bars, I'll never feel safe. I'll never feel like we can live a normal life."
"De Burca is so close to slipping up. I can feel it. He will, and when he does I'll be there to watch him fall. I know it's been a long time, Grace. Too long. I made a promise to you that night a couple of years ago. I intend to keep it. I vowed after my sister Allie lost her life to domestic violence I would hunt down monsters like your husband, put them behind bars and help the women start over. I've never given up on anyone I've helped, and I'm not giving up on you," he states with conviction.
I believe him. I'm not sure I'm strong enough for the both of us to keep going like this. My eyes start to water, and his face softens.
"Don’t. Don’t go there. I see it in your eyes. You are strong enough," Finn pulls me into his side trying his best to provide comfort.
I hate when I feel weak. People are relying on me to keep my shit together. I close my eyes and even my breathing.
"Good. Focus. Draw your strength from within you. It's there. Draw from those who matter most to you, Grace," Finn says before pulling back and looking at me, "I promise. I will get him," he affirms, then kisses my forehead.
Finn is a good man. One of the best I've ever come across. He is the protective brother I never had. I don’t know the exact number of women he has helped over the years-that number is irrelevant. What I do feel is he genuinely cares about everyone. I believe he sees his sister in the face of all of us he has helped keep alive and find a new beginning. His sister's case was a violent and tragic one, which is his story to tell, but he does all this for her-for himself, and I know we will forever be indebted to him. Finn will always be a part of my life, even after the mess I'm in straightens itself out. "It's getting late. Why don’t you sleep before you disappear on me," I offer. I know how far he came to get here and I know he drove.
"Use of your couch and something to eat would be great, but I need to head out early. I don’t want anyone to see me leaving here," he says to me as I get off the couch and walk to the refrigerator.
"I've got some leftover meatloaf in here. I can make us a sandwich?" I look at him.
"That would be great," he answers.
Surprisingly, he doesn't push the issue on Jake or Polson as we sit and eat our meal, which I'm grateful for.
"I met with Glory earlier today. Everything is good," he reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a cell phone and hands it to me, "I gave her a new one too. Give them a call on it and give me the other one so I can dispose of it." He keeps his hand open, waiting.
I walk over toward the front door and grab my phone from the inside of my purse and bring it to him, placing it on his open palm, "I'm going to walk back to my room and give them a call. I won't be but a minute. I'll bring you a blanket and pillow when I come back," I inform him and walk away.
After making the call, I retrieve a blanket from the linen closet and grab one of the two pillows off my bed. When I walk back into the small living room, Finn is lightly snoring on the couch. He looks ridiculous scrunched up on the small piece of furniture. Finn is around six feet with reddish-brown hair and gray eyes. He's fit. Not overly muscular, just enough you can tell it no matter what clothes he wears. From what I know about him he grew up in the ring. His father was a boxer, as was his grandfather before. Instead of making a career out of it he went into law enforcement.
Unfolding the blanket, I drape it across him and place the pillows on the back of the couch for him to use later. Securing the locks on the front door, I turn off all the lights leaving the one over the stove on. Because I have Finn sleeping in the next room, I feel an extra sense of security, and it doesn’t take long for me to fall asleep.
* * *
When I wake the next morning, Finn is sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees with a coffee mug in his hand. It's early, and the sun hasn’t begun to rise yet. I knew he would leave before daybreak which is why I set my alarm to get out of bed a couple hours earlier than normal.
"Just made the coffee. Left some for you," he gestures, lifting his cup towards the kitchen.
Shuffling my tired feet across the floor, I pour a cup for myself and sit down beside him.
"I want you to go back," He tells me.
"I can't," I reply, warming my hands with the heat of the mug.
"I'm heading that way. I need to make sure you didn’t leave anything behind. Just in case you don’t listen to me." Finn sits his cup down on the table, and starts slipping on his shoes.
"I made sure nothing was left, and I'm not going back." I roll my neck trying to work the kink out.
Knowing I've dug my heels in Finn lets out a heavy sigh, places his hands on his lap, and pushes off the couch. He places his phone and wallet in his pockets.
"I know it's hard, Grace, but I'm asking you to trust your heart this time. Not every man is Ronan. I think you already see that in Jake. Trust in it," He slips his suit jacket on, then grabs my shoulder and pulls me in for a hug.
I don’t know how to respond. I squeeze him back.
"I'll be in touch. Please think about what I've said," Finn urges.
Nodding, I walk him to the door. Stepping out he waits for me to close and lock it. Peering out my window halfway down the driveway he turns and gives me a short wave. He didn’t park here, but somewhere nearby. It's his way of making sure he isn’t followed. I watch him walk down the street until he disappears amongst the shadows of the predawn darkness. I have four hours before I have to be at work, so I make my way to my room and climb back into bed. I lay there wishing things could be different, and when I close my eyes I dream of a better life; in Polson.
3
Jake
I'm driving down Main Street on the way to the clubhouse when I pass Grace's bakery. My gut clenches when I cut my eyes over and see the lights off and the closed sign on the front door. The Cookie Jar has been my first stop of the day for the past two years. The only time I have ever seen Grace close the bakery is one weekend out of every month. In two years those weekends are the only times I have not put eyes on her. The past six months has been killin' me. I'm hoping Reid has some news for me this morning on where she may be, or hell anything would be nice. Something that would give us a clue as to why she's using a fake name and what brought her to Polson.
Pulling up to the clubhouse, I see Logan and Reid's bikes are here, and I park next to them. When I stride inside my nostrils are assaulted with the smell of stale beer, cigarettes and the place is a fuckin' mess. Peering to my right, I see Liz passed out on top of Sean. It looks likes things got a little wild last night after I left. The door slamming shut behind me startles them awake. "Get this shit cleaned up," I bark at her.
Usually, a prospect would be on top of this shit, but since we currently only have one, she gets the pleasure of cleaning up. The fact that I can't stand the bitch might have a little bit to do with it as well. I used to be able to tolerate Liz, but after the shit show with her and Cassie a couple years ago, I have a bad taste in my mouth when it comes to her. It's only because of Sean, and a few of the other guy's votes is what's keeping her ass here. I'm waiting for her to slip up an
d give me cause to kick her to the curb. The whore's time is limited, mark my word. Liz has this conniving look in her eyes, and I don't trust one hair on her head. Oh, she thinks she has some of us brothers fooled, and she thinks her pussy is fuckin' gold. The bitch is sorely mistaken. Plus she's not been pulling her weight around here. Our new girls Raine and Ember have been some of the best club girls we've had in years. They take care of the brothers, respect the old ladies and never complain. When Liz gets up off the sofa, she does so with a huff. "You got a fuckin' problem? Because if your ass doesn't like my orders, you know where the door is." I say staring her down and my tone daring the bitch to say something back.
Thinning her lips and looking down at the floor, I watch as she scurries past me doing what she's told. Smart move.
"What's up your ass this mornin', Prez?" Sean pipes up from his perch on the sofa.
He looks like death warmed over. The man is my age but acts like a fuckin' fifteen-year-old. He's never been married or even been close to settling down in his life. The man is completely satisfied with sticking his dick in one club whore after another.
Turning my glare towards him, "What's up my ass is walking in here, and I'm rewarded with a goddamn mess that stinks of garbage and piss. You all are a bunch of grown ass men. If you want to party and have a good time, then be my guest, but for Christ sakes, clean up after yourselves. You got me?" Lifting his brow and holding up his hands in defense, Sean knows better than to challenge my sour mood.
"Yeah, Prez, I got ya."
Satisfied with his response, I turn on my heel and make my way down the hall to my office. I pass Quinn on the way there who is sitting at the bar. The dipshit is smirking but smart enough to keep his hole shut. Hell, I know I'm overreacting this morning. This isn't the first time I've walked into the club being a pigsty after a party and it won't be the last. It's just my nerves are on edge, and it's best everyone around me tread lightly.
UNBREAKABLE: The Kings of Retribution MC Page 2
