Page 84 of Caution to the Wind

Me. An ex-con proudly flyin’ the colours of his notorious outlaw motorcycle club.

Sure, some citizens gave me the stink eye, but for the most part, the townsfolk liked the club. We held charity events, helped mediate disputes ’cause no one much trusted the police after the corrupt Staff Sergeant Danner was arrested for tryin’ to kill King Kyle Garro and for murderin’ a fellow cop, Riley Gibson, two years ago, and we kept other criminals from doin’ damage inside town borders.

It felt good to be accepted, admired even, for bein’ exactly who I was. It was somethin’ I’d struggled with my whole fuckin’ life, and findin’ it here gave me a kinda peace I’d yearned for a long time.

So walkin’ into Honeybear Café after my workout, still damp from my shower, revved with the adrenaline of a good workout, I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew outside of the regulars.

The bell over the door chimed as it swung shut beside me, but I stood frozen in the doorway, starin’ at Mei Zhen Marchand as she smiled at Lauren Hatfield behind the counter. She was wearin’ that fuckin’ leather jacket again, unzipped over a semi-translucent black top even though it was goddamn freezin’ out and she had next to no body fat to keep her lean form warm. It exposed the black, line-etched tattoos on her neck and the ribbon of flesh between the shirt and her low-slung black jeans. I noticed a small axe on the side of her throat that made my pulse pound. With her ink-dark hair shimmerin’ over her shoulders, the alabaster of her skin, and the only spot of colour in her pouty mouth, she looked like some kinda badass Asian version of Snow White.

The sight of her kicked me in the teeth and again in the fuckin’ gut.

’Cause, fuck, she’d been a pretty kid, but she was a gorgeous woman.

My teeth ground together as I fought through the inappropriate punch of desire and the swift right jab of anger.

“What the fuck are you doin’ in here?” I grunted as I stalked forward.

Mei’s pretty smile faltered, then fell off her face as she turned to look at me. There was devastation in her features for just a second before she rearranged them into a mockin’ smirk. She tilted her paper cup of coffee at me.

“Morning sustenance. Cleo told me this place was the best in town. I’ve never tried a dirty chai latte before, but I have to say…” She took a sip, her mouth leavin’ a red imprint on the white lid. Unbidden, the image of that same stain on my skin flashed behind my eyes. “It’s fucking delicious.”

“This is my place. It’s off-limits,” I told her, crossin’ my arms to underscore the point.

Laughter danced in her warm, dark gaze as it moved over my obstinate pose. “Oh-kay… Harsh of you to take my new favourite drink from me, but I guess I could duck into Stella’s Diner next time.”

“No, that’s mine, too.”

She cocked a brow. “You want me to starve while I’m in town, Axe-Man?”

I’d wanted her to call me that, so why the fuck did it feel wrong? Why the fuck did the sight of her in my town feel so invasive, like somethin’ crawlin’ painfully deep beneath my skin?

“Just stick to places I don’t like,” I suggested blandly. “Wouldn’t do for local business for me to stop patronizin’ them just ’cause the sight of you there ruined my appetite. We both know you won’t stick around long enough for them to recoup their losses with you.”

Her flinch was small, but then, I’d never seen her flinch before. It wasn’t like me to be such an asshole, but Mei’d always managed to bring out the more aggressive side of my nature, even back in the day when we’d been close.

“Right,” she whispered, lookin’ down at the little honey bear stencilled onto her cup, rubbin’ her thumb over it like she could erase its smile. “Well, I’ll get out of here before I spoil your post-workout meal.”

Lauren cleared her throat from behind the counter, shootin’ me a frown before she passed Mei a paper bag already damp with fresh grease stains. “Your breakfast sandwiches. Tell Cleo I slipped in some extra avocado for hers, yeah? And if she’ll accept it, give her my love, okay?”

Mei bit her lip as she accepted the bag and nodded, duckin’ behind a curtain of silky hair as she started for the door.

Before she could get by me, my hand was snaggin’ her arm. I stared at the sight of my big, tatted palm wrapped around her slim wrist for a moment ’cause I hadn’t meant to touch her. Hadn’t meant to stop her.

“Listen, you stay away from me, I won’t cause you problems here,” I said, a little gruff ’cause it was as close to an apology as she was gonna get.

She didn’t look at me, just nodded and carefully wrenched away from my grip. “Sure, Axe-Man. Whatever.”

I opened my mouth to say somethin’ else, anythin’ else that might drag that sloe-eyed gaze back to mine, that might light the same fire in her I felt in my gut, but I didn’t get the chance.

A scream from the back of the shop ripped through the room.

Instantly, everyone moved.

The other coffee seekers ducked and started runnin’ for the door.

Mei and I moved simultaneously toward the source of the scream. I had my axe unclipped from its holster, the smooth wood handle gripped in one palm and my gun in the other. Mei had dipped down to pull a wicked-lookin’ knife from her boot, the blade shinin’ new mornin’ sunlight into my eyes.

“Put that away and get outta here,” I demanded, already movin’ around the register to the door leadin’ to the back kitchen.