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21

RAVEN

I ’m watching the clock as I clear a table in the diner. I need to pick Fen up exactly fifteen minutes after I finish my shift. It’s a twenty-minute walk, which means I’ll be running through the town in my diner uniform.

Thankfully, the sun is shining. Spring is in full force. And there isn’t a cloud in the sky threatening to drench me as I run.

“Can you take those pot roasts out to table ten, please, Raven?” Floyd asks, tipping his head in the direction of the two plates underneath the heat.

“Got it.” I sweep them up after I’ve ditched the dirty dishes.

When I walk out, Tanner, the sheriff, and one of his deputies walk in. I haven’t seen him since we met in the launderette after Wraith and I…

“We’re not thinking about that man,” I mutter quietly so no one hears.

The last two days have been a relentless battle of trying to not think about two men. Marco won’t stop calling. I capitulated and listened to his messages, which have now devolved into threats such that I hope the Russians or police find him soon.

And Wraith. Urgh, my body tightens just thinking about the way his hands made me feel, even as heat fills my cheeks at the way he dismissed me so easily.

“Afternoon, Sheriff Radcliffe,” I say.

He tips his hat in my direction. “Hey, Raven. Can we get a couple of coffees when you have a minute?”

“Sure. I’ll get right on it when I’ve dealt with this.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to proffer the two plates of food toward him to reinforce my point.

He smiles, and they take a seat by the window.

I drop off the food to a couple just passing through on a once-in-a-lifetime road trip to celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary, then busy myself pouring the coffees.

When the bell rings above the door, I look up to welcome whoever is coming through it.

And Wraith’s eyes are on mine when I do.

He winks when he sees me.

Winks.

Like we’re friends or something.

Or more than something.

Then he leads Smoke and Catfish to their table.

So, I slow down with the coffees in the hope that Margie will see them and hurry over to them like she has a tendency to do. I walk the coffee cups over to Tanner’s table, praying for the ding of the food bell to tell me to do anything other than head to the Iron Outlaws’ table and ask Wraith what he needs.

Urgh.

Even that came out wrong.

I don’t care what Wraith needs.

I swear to God, I can still feel the way his piercing slid against me.

“Are you ready to order?” I ask Tanner when I see the two of them studying the menu.

Please say yes. Please say yes.

Tanner looks up. “Need a couple more minutes, if you don’t mind.”

I smile while internally hating that they didn’t give me an order so long, it would take me ten minutes to write it down. “Not at all. I’ll circle back in a few.”

No bell.

No Margie.

No extra-long orders.

I guess it’s just me and three bikers.

I head to their booth. Catfish and Smoke sit on the side that faces toward the window; Wraith sits facing the kitchen.

“Hey, Raven,” Catfish says brightly.

“Hey. What can I get you all?” I ask, not making eye contact with Wraith.

“Rancher’s breakfast for me,” Smoke says. “Eggs over easy. White toast. Extra bacon. No mushrooms. Two orange juices. And a coffee.”

Damn. Why couldn’t Tanner have given me an order like this?

“And you?” I look straight at Catfish, making it clear I’m not talking to Wraith.

Somewhere between him telling me he wants pancakes and something about drinks I don’t catch, a warm palm strokes the back of my thigh. Wraith’s fingers lazily squeeze and stroke.

Out of the corner of my eye, it looks as though he’s studying the menu. But my heart beats frantically in my chest, faster than I knew it was capable of. My lungs feel too small for my body, and I fear I can’t breathe in enough air to get me through the next ten minutes.

“…and an OJ. Thanks, Raven.” Catfish looks at me expectantly.

I step away from Wraith, and his hand slips back onto his own thigh without him looking up at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch everything you said.”

The corner of Wraith’s lips turns up in the hint of a smile, and I want to smack him over the head with the damn menu. But given there are people from the police community sitting two tables over, I resist.

I’m not sure of all the small-town etiquette, but I’m pretty sure assault is still assault, even if the victim is a biker.

Catfish grins and repeats his order.

“And you?” I ask finally. There is no mistaking my tone, which says I’d rather be chewing on wheat chaff than asking him anything.

Wraith looks up at me. “You on the menu?” His blue eyes twinkle with mischief, the loathing I saw in them the last time we were together long-since gone.

I huff in disgust. “Definitely not.”

He has the audacity to smile at me like nothing happened between us. “I’ll take the French toast. Heavy on the bacon. Just bring the coffee pot.”

I stomp away, even as my insides melt a little at the sight of his smile. I’m a cliché for being affected by it the way I am.

When I reach the kitchen, Floyd takes the small notebook page I wrote the orders down on. “These for Margie’s boys?”

I nod. “If you mean the bikers, yes.”

Floyd nods and begins to pull the breakfast together. I want to hide out here, but I head to Tanner’s table. He’s staring at the bikers.

“Have you decided what you want to eat?” I ask.

Tanner moves closer to me. “Do you want me to have a word with him for touching you like that?”

I’m frozen in place because I don’t know how to answer. But one thing is true. “I don’t want any trouble.”

He raises an eyebrow. “That didn’t answer my question.”

“We know each other, of a fashion. He was just teasing. Don’t worry about it. Now, what can I get you?”

In movies, when something bad happens, it all slows down. You see the car roll over in four minutes of dramatic footage. Haunting music plays.

But in reality, the front window of the diner has been shattered by bullets before I even realize what’s happened.

Screams ring out.

I look around and see Tanner and his deputy lie themselves flat against the leather benches so their bodies drop just below the windows.

And I’m paralyzed, unable to move because of the Russian-sounding accents of the shooters. One of the men hanging out of the open van doors stares at me for a moment.

How did they…?

“Oof,” I grunt as I hit the ground.

“Stay down, Blue,” Wraith says, lying over me. Crushing me with his weight. And my only thought is how I’m safe. This man won’t let anything happen to me.

Tanner and his deputy return fire.

As do Catfish and Smoke.

But we stay on the floor, our bodies tangled together, unable to move or reposition ourselves in the limited floor space between tables.

I catch eyes with the lady I served a chicken club and soda to not twenty minutes ago. She’s beneath her booth table, knees tucked under her chin. Her eyes are haunted, flitting from the cops to the bikers to me.

“It’s okay, Blue. I’ve got you.” Wraith’s arms wrap tightly around me. I realize his back is to the window. My back is pressed against his chest.

Like the way we spent most of the night together.

And I’m shaking.

I place my hands over his, and he entwines our fingers.

“Love the way you feel against me,” he whispers against my ear, like we aren’t in the middle of being attacked.

I turn my head to look over my shoulder at him, and he winks.

Again.

It’s as though I’ve been sucked into a vortex. It should be noisy.

Terrifying.

But it’s as though I’m lying in silence, utterly detached from everything going on around me.

Lips press firmly to the top of my head. A large hand covers my ear, to block the noise, I assume.

And then it’s over.

Like a tornado has blown through, the silence is now overwhelming.

“I’m gonna move us now, okay?” he asks.

But I cling to the arm wrapped over my chest even tighter.

“Let me go, Blue. They’ve gone. I need to get you up off the ground.”

I ease my grip, and Wraith finds a way to his feet. When he offers me his hand, I take it, and the world around me rushes in.

Tanner is radioing for help.

Margie is being held by Floyd as she weeps. Her diner is ruined.

Two customers lie in pools of blood.

And by some miracle, I’m still alive.

Then I turn to face Wraith.

“Oh my God. Sit down,” I gasp when I take in the blood dripping down his arm and the cuts on his face.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Some of the glass got me is all.”

The scent of gunfire hangs heavy in the air.

“I told you it was only a matter of time until someone else in this goddamn town got killed because of you,” Tanner says to Wraith as he places his fingers to the deputy’s pulse, confirming what we all know from the bullet wound to the side of his head. That the man is dead.

“Go help,” Wraith says to me. “I’ll be back.”

I glance up at the clock. “Fen?”

“Catfish,” he says. “Go get Fen from school.”

Catfish jumps over two patrons still on the floor and disappears without a word.

“They’re not going to let Fen leave with a biker. I should?—”

“His sister is the principal. But make the call to the school now to let them know Catfish is grabbing Fen if you need to. His real name is River Haines.”

He cups my cheek and brushes a kiss across my lips before running from the diner with Smoke.