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“IT’S A GODDAMN MONSOON OUT THERE,” I mutter debating whether I even want to open Sassy’s today. Saturdays are usually slammed but I doubt many are gonna venture out today, no matter how damn good my cookin’ is. Grabbing the remote, I find the local weather channel whistling through my teeth. Storms are rare out here and some front came down from Canada to fuck with us. High winds, mudslides and power outages are expected as well as over six inches of hard rain.
Grabbing my cell, I text Federico not to open today. It’s an easy call to make. I love that goddamn place but without seeing Dev’s saucy grin and smart mouth telling me what’s wrong with my cooking the place seems lonely despite being full most of the day.
The rain falls so hard I can barely see out my back window where it slams into it with such force it sounds like a million pellets scattering.
“Smith? You’re up early?” I taunt answering his call. Smith isn’t known for being an early bird.
“Yeah, couldn’t sleep. Shit’s goin’ sideways down here in Cali.”
“What’s up, brotha.”
“Guess who started a new MC?”
“Fuckin’ hell. Gregory?”
“Yeah. He’s ridin’ with a bad crew. Picking up ex-convicts and parolees as soon as they’re cut loose. He’s offering a place in his bunkhouse, food and fresh ink. Somehow he slipped through the Canadian border and made it here.”
“Fuck.”
“Exactly. I needed every man I have back here. Please tell me you left a guard on the girls?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, cursing like a fool.
“Dev and I are over. I heard Luce is back in Chicago getting her stuff boxed up to ship out here.”
“Fuck,” he sighs. “She’s safe for now. I’ll have a man pick her up at the airport and fly another one to Chicago to get her car.”
“Damn. You make her your old lady already?”
“No. But she will be as soon as I figure out how to neutralize these fuckers. What happened with Dev? She seemed like old lady material herself.”
“She is. But she hid shit from me. Shit she should’ve trusted me with. I’ve been alone so long, I can’t get in deep with someone who lies at the start. You feel me?”
“Yeah, I do. Damn, I’m sorry, Rog.”
“Not as sorry as I am. Listen, I’ll keep an eye on shit here. I’ll post a man at every frickin’ road that leads to Springdale if I need to. The new deputy is an old friend. I’ll have him watch our backs too.”
“Sounds good. And Rog—if anything happens to Luce on your watch—”
“I get it. It won’t,” I vow ending the call.
My heart’s racing. Dev—I need to get to Dev. Fuck the storm and our break-up. I’m the shelter she needs right now. Phone still in hand, I call.
“Fuck!” It goes straight to her voicemail. Lightning flashes followed by a boom of thunder so loud my walls rattle. Then the power goes out.
Grabbing the keys to my truck off the counter I open the door fighting the wind and rain and barrel down the stairs to my driveway. My truck’s mostly dry, parked under the wide upper deck that acts as a portico.
Firing up my engine, I tear off, driving like mad to get to Dev and prayin’ like hell she’s alright.
The pounding is so loud I wake up with a start; bolting up from the old couch; confused.
The power’s out.
A branch from the large maple tree slaps against the window.
Then I realize the pounding is the rain coming down in buckets. On bare feet, I cross to the front window, not even able to see my car through the downpour.
“Ahhhh,” I shriek watching a heavy limb from a tall tree fall to the ground with a loud thud. Scurrying back over to the couch I look for my phone tangled up in the bedding. But my shoulders slump when I finally find it.