by K. L. Savage
“Liar,” Andrew teases, smirking.
Yeah, he knows how much I want to hold this copy of ‘Wuthering Heights’ in my hands, and he loves to watch me squirm for it.
“Can I just—”
“No.”
“Just one time—”
“No.” He chuckles at our conversation that happens at least twice every day.
One day I’ll break him. One day.
Until then, I have to keep my hands to myself. I sigh dramatically and fall onto the black velvet chair nestled in the nook next to the window. I glance outside the window and place my chin in my hand, watching the empty street. It’s early morning and no stores are open yet, including ours. Well, the exception is the coffee cart at the corner, but everyone needs to start their day off right.
Coffee is the nectar of life, and anyone who disagrees with me must only drink tea.
Yuck.
Tea is good when you need something warm to drink before going to bed.
But the thought of a hot caramel latte with whip cream and a dash of cinnamon has my taste buds coming to life. The watch on my wrist reads 7:30 in the morning. I have another half hour before the store opens, and I’ve done all the work needed before we unlock the door to start the day.
“Hey, Andrew? Do you want coffee? I’m going to run down to the coffee cart.”
“Sure, I’ll take it black.”
Black? Who would want to miss out on the yummy number of flavors that creamers offer? I’ll never understand.
As I push off from the couch, the soft material rubbing against my fingers causes me to sigh. I want to curl up on my own couch with a blanket and a spicy romance novel that reminds me that love is possible. Then, I want to fall asleep and dream of my one true love.
Yeah, like that will ever happen.
Maybe I read too many books…
Now, that’s just crazy talk.
I skip down the aisle between mystery and suspense and head toward the back room to grab my purse and cardigan. Vegas might be hot, but when cooler weather starts to come around, the mornings are chilly. I slide my arms through the dark blue cardigan and wrap the strap of my purse over my shoulder, then peek inside where I see the cash folded up in one of the side pockets.
I haven’t seen the man who tossed forty dollars at me in a few weeks. He overpaid for the book he grabbed by twelve dollars. He never came back for his change. He was interesting and handsome.
He had long hair, which isn’t my type of thing on a man usually, but he made it work. He was mysterious, tall, broad, and wore a leather cut. I only know what they are because of all of the romance books I read. He was astonishingly quiet for a man who was so good-looking, and there was no reason why he couldn’t have all the confidence in the world.
I have no way of figuring out how to get his change to him, but I don’t have it in me to spend it. It isn’t right.
“Okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t open the store without me!” I say, skipping down the aisle toward the door. I run my fingers over the spines of the books as I go.
“Like I’d want to!” he shouts after me.
I give him a parting smile and unlock the golden knob, then turn the handle. The door chimes when I push against the antique wood with my hip. I lock it behind me, so a customer doesn’t come in before we’re open and shiver when the cold air smacks me in the face.
“And this is why I live in the freaking desert because I can’t stand the cold weather,” I mumble to myself, tightening my cardigan around my waist before I brave the first step onto the sidewalk. I’d hate living in the snow. I hate being cold. It’s why I always have a cardigan on or a blanket draped around my waist.
The loud rumble of motorcycles fills the air and that has me stepping out onto the sidewalk. The bottoms of my feet tingle from the reverberations traveling through the ground. I hold my breath when I see three bikes pulling up next to the coffee cart I’m about to walk toward. They are wearing the same cuts as the man I met in the bookstore a few weeks ago. Maybe they would give him his change if I gave it to them?
Everyone at the coffee cart line starts to disperse, running away scared from the big bad bikers, but not me. I’m intrigued, and maybe they can lead me to the man who’s been invading my thoughts lately more than books have.
Which never happens.
I’m pretty one-track minded. Books. Books. Books. That’s me. I don’t have boyfriends. I don’t date. I don’t go out. I don’t party. I’m a homebody.
And I’ve been wishing he would walk through the door again. I want to hear his voice. It was different, unlike anything I’ve ever heard. I want to listen to him read me a book until I fall asleep. His voice was deep and raspy, like speaking isn’t something he likes to do.
With a smile on my face, I scurry toward the coffee cart. I look both ways before crossing the street and run to the other side. There’s a candy store called Paula’s, and the old woman is cleaning the windows, keeping her eyes on the bikers at the coffee cart. So many people judge a book by its cover without trying to see what it’s about.
I bet they aren’t that bad. Everyone is so dramatic.
I pass a hardware store and wave to Jerry through the window. He gives me a toothless grin, then scowls when he realizes what he just did. He’s grumpy, but I think he tries to be. On the inside, he’s a teddy bear.
A wall of fresh coffee hits my nose, and I straighten my back and perk up. I get in line behind the bikers, and now that I’m closer and see how big they are, my courage dissipates.
I swallow, suddenly wondering if the coffee was a good idea. Why am I so impulsive sometimes? I don’t think. I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose and look at the massive back in front of me again.
Holy Moly.
I’m way out of my comfort zone here.
There’s a skull wearing a crown with hollow eyes and smirking at me like it’s about to eat me. ‘Ruthless Kings MC Las Vegas’ is written around the skull. The only thing I can think about is the ‘Vegas’ part. That means there is more than one.
Oh man, that means all the big bad bikers could come after me and kill me if I don’t give this money back.
I’m screwed.
I jump when my cell phone rings and leather creaks. I feel eyes on me, and when I look up, the bikers are staring at me.
“You going to answer that, blue-eyes?” the one in the middle asks. He’s good-looking, but he isn’t like the other guy who came into the bookstore.
“Leave her alone, Slingshot.” The one in front slaps the man named Slingshot in the chest. It’s an interesting name, maybe a road name? Isn’t that what bikers have? I need to reread my books if I’m forgetting. It’s their fault. I can’t think straight with all of their eyes on me.
“What? She has blue eyes, and what if it’s an important call? I’m trying to help, Prez.”
“Yer being a pain in the ass. If she wants to ignore it, she can. Don’t ye worry. I got ye back,” a redheaded man wearing a kilt says, giving me a wink.
Oh, wow.
He really knows how to wink.
My cheeks heat, and I take that moment to look down and open my purse. Getting coffee wasn’t a good idea. I had no idea they would all be so good looking. It really isn’t fair for us women. We don’t stand a chance when men like this are walking around, all tattooed and in leather.
My palm wraps around my phone, and honestly, I’m thankful I changed my ringtone from my favorite 90’s song. How is that the only thing I can think about right now?
“Hello?” my voice cracks, and I lay my hand against my throat, clearing it. “Hello?” I try again, and Slingshot gives me a flirtatious grin.
“Hey, sweetie.” Aunt Tina’s voice is louder than usual, and that’s when I realize I’ve put her on speaker by clicking the button with my cheek.
The guys chuckle, and I close my eyes in humiliation. “Hi, Aunt Tina. What’s up?”
“I was wondering on your way home if you could stop by the
grocery store? We need a few things.”
I give the bikers my back and lower my voice. “Aunt Tina, now isn’t the best time. I’m … I’m getting coffee.”
“I miss you, blue-eyes! Come back to me!” Slingshot yells from behind. Great. Bikers are picking on me.
“What is that? Where are you?”
I turn around and narrow my eyes at the untamed biker in the middle. “I thought I was in the line to get coffee, but apparently, I’m at the zoo.”
Slingshot’s smile vanishes in an instant, and the other two men roar in laughter.
“Aye, she got ye, lad. Oh, she’s funny. This trip for coffee was worth it.” The redhead slaps his stomach and then his demeanor changes when he sees a bagel. “Oh, I need breakfast. I’ll take three of those bagels, please, and vanilla bean Frappuccino,” he gives his orders to Walter, the coffee cart guy.
“I’ll call you back, Aunt Tina. Love you.” I hang up the phone and slide it into my purse. “I actually have a question for you guys.” I want to forget the annoyance of being called blue eyes and remember the man who gave me forty bucks. I step up and tuck my hair behind my ear. “Walter, I’ll take my regular, and then plain black for Andrew.”
“Andrew your boyfriend?” Slingshot asks.
“He’s my boss. I work at the bookstore.” I roll my eyes, then catch myself, hoping he didn’t see me. What if they plan a hit on me and shoot me in my sleep?
“Wait—” The man who seems to be in charge crosses his arms, and my eyes fall to his chest. He has a patch that says Prez, which is what Slingshot called him. He must be the man in charge of the entire club.
He’s the one who will give the order to kill me.
I sip my coffee and really enjoy it, letting the caramel melt over my tongue like it’s the last time.
“You work at the bookstore? Right there on the corner?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah, ‘Page by Page.’ It’s right across the street.” I point to it and then wonder if I should have shown them where I work. I need to stop being paranoid.
“That makes a lot of sense as to why he’s been carrying that book around,” he says, trying to rub a smile off his face, but it isn’t working.
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I think one of your … uh … friends gave me too much money. He came into the bookstore, and he didn’t say much, just tossed money at me and ran away. I want to give him his change.” I dig through my purse, and my glasses slide down the tip of my nose. I take the cash between my fingers and hand it to them. Slingshot pushes my glasses up my nose, then taps the tip of it.
“You’re too cute,” he states.
“Puppies are cute,” I mumble, waiting for the Prez to take the cash, but he stares at it instead.
“The man you’re talking about. Is he about this tall—” The Prez holds his hand above his head a little bit. “Kind of creepy looking, silent, brown eyes.”
I smile when the man’s face flashes in my hand. “Yeah!”
Then I frown. “I wouldn’t say he is creepy. I hope his package was okay. It leaked all over the floor. Red stuff. It stains too. I’m not sure what items he was trying to send, but I doubt it got there in one piece. I hope it wasn’t pie.”
“Pie?” Slingshot bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, she’s so cute. She thought it was pie. I can’t breathe. I can’t … oh God. My side hurts.”
I pull the money away from them and scowl. I don’t like to be laughed at. I know there are a lot of things I don’t know about, but he doesn’t have to be rude about it. “Well, I’m sorry for wasting your time. I didn’t know that he was such a joke to you. Apparently, everything is.” I probably shouldn’t have said that, but I want to defend a man I don’t even know. Sure, he looked rough around the edges, but his eyes told me a different story.
And I want to know it.
I spin on my heel and start to walk away when the man who calls himself Prez cuts me off, standing in front of me. “Woah now, hold on a second. We’re sorry. We don’t talk to people who have interactions with Tongue. He isn’t exactly the social type of guy. You want me to give him the cash back, I will. I swear it.”
“Yeah, that would be great. Tell him there are other books in the store. If he likes ‘The Great Gatsby’ that much, he should come back.” I want to see him again. “Wait, his name is Tongue? Why?”
“I’ll be sure to tell him that. Honestly? Ever since I’ve known him, that’s what he wanted to be called. We all have road names. I’m Reaper.”
“But do you know his name?” I prod.
“Cash and I’ll make sure he gets your message.” The way he says it tells me that this conversation is over.
But it isn’t.
“I want his name.”
Reaper’s jaw ticks, and he steps forward, leaning his face a few inches from mine. “Let me tell you something, blue-eyes. We only go by our road names. Our given names are only shared with the people we truly care about. The people we love. If Tongue wants you to know his name, he’ll tell you.”
Holy moly. This man is intimidating and scary. I can’t back down. “Do you even know it?” I ask.
An annoyed glint flashes in his eyes. “I know everything about my members, and I don’t do well with people constantly questioning me.”
I do my best not to tremble in fear and hand him the money I have in my hand.
He gently tugs the cash from my palm, and I have to break the intense eye contact. It isn’t sexual; his eyes are full of rage, but something else too.
Concern.
“What’s your name, blue-eyes?” he asks.
“Daphne,” I whisper.
“That’s a nice name. Look at me, Daphne.”
I glance up and meet those hard eyes again, but the corners have softened. “You seem like a sweet girl. You have a good life, a good job, it looks like. You’re cute. I mean this with the best intentions. You need to stay away from Tongue, okay?”
“Prez—” Slingshot starts to step forward, but Reaper holds his hand out to stop him. “Tongue is a good guy. He deserves—”
“Don’t talk to me about him, Slingshot.” Reaper points to him in a warning.
I try to move around Reaper to head back to the bookstore, but he stops me again. “Please, let me go.” I keep my voice low. “I’m sorry I interrupted your morning, but I’m not looking for trouble.”
“You are when you’re asking about Tongue. Stay away from him; got it, Daphne?”
“I got it.” I hate how submissive I sound, but Reaper scares me. I just want to go to work.
“Look at me.”
I do as he says, tears in my eyes from the fear engulfing me, and he looks guilty. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I am. I only have your best interest, Daphne. If you really knew Tongue, you wouldn’t ask about him. The fact that you piqued his interest worries me enough. Stay out of his way, and don’t ask about him. You understand me? He is dangerous. We all are. We aren’t knights, but when I need dirty work done, Tongue is my go-to guy. Remember that the next time you get all doe-eyed when you think about him or want to come up to us and ask about him, pretending you want to give his cash back.”
“I did want to give his cash back. It isn’t mine to keep. I’m not a thief.” On that note, I successfully sidestep the badass biker and successfully make my way toward the bookstore. All I can think about is this guy named Tongue and the warning Reaper gave me. Tongue didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt me, but what do I know? I’ve never been with a guy before. I’m probably reading into this too much.
Even knowing the warning, all I can think about are the light brown eyes of Tongue staring at me. He didn’t seem like he wanted to harm me; in fact, he almost seemed scared of me as I tried to talk to him.
He was flustered. He didn’t know what to say to me. I’m sure Reaper is right about the kind of man Tongue is, but I’m interested. I can’t lie and say I’m not.
When I get to the door of ‘Page by Page,’ I peer behind
me to get one last look at the bikers, and they are still staring at me.
All three of them.
What have I gotten myself into?
I slide the skeleton key out of my cardigan pocket and unlock the door. A cool breeze ruffles my hair, but something has me giving my attention to the opposite direction. Nothing is there. It’s just an empty road, but I feel … something.
Holy moly. I’m a crazy person now. I’m paranoid. These damn bikers made me all jumpy.
I let out a deep breath once I walk through the door, then sag my back against it. I’m sweating. I need to take this cardigan off. I have ten minutes before the store opens, and I’m too flustered to focus.
Work.
Coffee.
Books.
“Right. You’re okay.” I blow out a raspberry, vibrating my lips as I try to relax.
“Hey, where’s mine?” Andrew asks, and I can hear the pout in his voice.
“Sorry, I … uh … forgot. You know me.”
“Yeah, and you don’t forget. What happened?” He crosses his arms over his chest, and I turn around to get a look at the coffee cart again. The bikers are gone.
“I ran into a few people that made me nervous, that’s all.” I take a gulp of air and lean my forehead against the cold glass of the door.
“That’s all? Where are they?” He moves to get around me, grabs my shoulders, and pushes me against the wall. He opens the door and runs outside, then stops on the sidewalk, looking left and right. I can’t help creeping forward to peek around him and look for them too.
He’s a good man. A bit older than me, but that doesn’t matter. I wish I were attracted to him. He’s smart, we enjoy the same things, and he is good looking, but he is too polished and perfect. Nothing is ever out of place, and I feel like I’m a constant wreck.
“No one is out here. Are you okay?” His hands fall to my shoulders again and squeezes. “Maybe you should go home. Get some rest. You look pale.” Andrew brushes a piece of hair out of my eye, and a thud smacks against the door.
“What the fuck?” Andrew tilts his head and that’s when I see a long knife, the metal gleaming against the sun.
“Oh my god! Are you okay?” I can’t believe that just happened. That was so close to his face.
