I glance in Jerry’s direction, who looks back at me in surprise. As much as my sister pisses me off at times, the last thing I want to do is destroy the perfect husband and family image she has in her head, even if it is built on lies.

  “I didn’t know that, Missy. Why didn’t you say anything?” She reaches out for my hand and retakes her seat.

  “Because we want to protect you, Ma. You’re the only reason we’re still here in Rizona. We love you and can’t leave you here alone, especially with the diner open,” I say with tears in my eyes. I know she loves the diner, but if she’d be willing to walk away, then I can start my life with Drak.

  Melanie sits next to Ma while Jerry crouches in front of them. “Let’s move to Waco. I’ll get a part-time job and you can finally retire.”

  “Didn’t you just finish remodeling your kitchen?” Ma shakes her head again, clearly processing this at her own pace. I glance at the clock on the wall. Five minutes.

  “Who cares?” Jerry quickly responds. “We’ll find a better house, a bigger house, with enough room for all of us. I can’t protect us here, and the kids need proper schools with after-hours programs and club sports and dance recitals, all the things you’ve wished for them. Come on, Ma. Let’s make a plan to close the diner and move away to some place better for all of us.”

  Ma sighs, casting me a small smile. “All I’ve ever wanted was for my girls to be happy. I never meant for you to feel trapped here.”

  “Does that mean you’re willing to make a plan to close the diner?” I ask hopefully.

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about, and I will not be forced to make a decision tonight.”

  Jerry’s shoulders sag. I glance at the clock again, noting the time. “I gotta go.”

  “Have a nice time, Missy.” Ma smiles and pats my hand. “Tell Drak I said hi.”

  I stand up at the same time my phone rings in my purse across the room. Weirdly, Jerry’s work phone rings next, followed by Ma’s house phone—all three devices ringing within seconds of each other.

  Jerry answers at the same time I pull my phone out of my purse, a missed call followed by a text from Drak.

  Where are you?

  Chapter Eleven

  Drak

  The ride to Rizona is smooth, even though the ring in my vest pocket presses against my heart.

  Yeah, I went out yesterday and bought a ring, much to Triton and Chance’s surprise. This is so unlike me, they one hundred percent believe I’m in love and understand my over-the-top need to claim her in every way. Nothing else explains my damn near desperate desire to make her mine.

  It helps that they both fell in love recently and found their perfect woman against all odds. We’ve been bachelors for so long, not looking for love of any kind, that to have it slap all three of us in the face in such a short time seems like a gift from the heavens. There’s definitely some divine intervention going on, and I don’t believe in that shit.

  We’re running a little early thanks to a lack of traffic on the highway. When we enter Rizona, the streets just as empty as they were ten days ago, and I lead the guys with their women to the small diner in the middle of town. We stop at the four-way stop and I spy Missy’s Mustang in the parking lot. My heart swells knowing I’m going to have her in my arms in the next two minutes.

  And then the world slows to a crawl.

  Two guys that I recognize as the dickheads who propositioned her Sunday night run out of the back of the restaurant, the tires on their SUV squealing as a small explosion rocks the building and blows out the windows in front of the diner.

  “Missy.” Her name comes out on an exhale as the world speeds back up. I twist the throttle, the back tire spinning before launching my bike forward with more torque than safe. Dumping my bike in the parking lot, I run and jump through the destroyed windows, calling for my woman. “Missy! Where are you?”

  There’s a fire in the far corner of the dining room, the kitchen seemingly untouched for the moment as the flames catch and grow across the ground.

  Where is she? I push my way through the kitchen and yank open the door to the freezer, the storage room, and a door that leads to a stairwell descending to the basement. I search everywhere, calling her name the entire time, but there is no answer.

  Did they take her with them? Is she unable to speak?

  The possibility twists my gut into a ball as I stumble back into the kitchen, the smoke from whatever accelerant they used causing black clouds of smoke to fill the room.

  “Drak?” Triton yells from the shredded doorway.

  “In here.” I shake my head. “I can’t find her.”

  “Get the fuck out of there. The fire is spreading quickly.” Chance yells back.

  “I have to find her.” I double over choking, a lungful of smoke causing my eyes to water and my airways to constrict.

  Big hands grab my cut and haul me out of the diner, tossing me onto the cracked asphalt parking lot.

  “Stubborn ass,” Triton growls and stands over me as I roll onto my back.

  “You’re not thinking straight, man. Call her. Maybe she wasn’t in there.” Chance pulls my phone out of my pocket and shoves it in my face.

  I call her, but there’s no answer. Then I send her a simple text.

  Where are you?

  Chapter Twelve

  Missy

  “What?” Jerry barks and jumps to his feet. “I’ll be right there.”

  “What’s going on?” Melanie shakes her head, her eyes going over to their kids.

  “There was an explosion at the diner. It’s on fire.”

  “Drak.” I shake my fist with my phone in the air.

  “Stay with the kids, Melanie.” Jerry grabs his gun belt, the one he always places on top of the armoire far away from curious hands, and slings it around his waist. “Let’s go.”

  I call Drak as soon as we jump into Jerry’s police cruiser. He answers on the first ring.

  “Where are you?” he barks.

  “We’re driving that way now. Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?”

  “Fucking hell, babydoll. You scared the shit out of me.” I can hear relief pouring through his words.

  “Are you okay?” I snap back.

  “Yes, I’m fine. How long until you get here?”

  “Two minutes.” An unexpected sob rips from my throat. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

  Drak’s voice is muffled as he says, “Help me up, fucker.”

  “What?” I yell into the phone.

  He groans and I suspect one of his buddies just helped him up off the ground, but why was he on the ground?

  “Hurry, Jerry!” I yell from the backseat before we see the flames shooting up in the near distance.

  “Oh my god,” Ma gasps from the front seat, her face turned away from me.

  We slam to a stop in the middle of the street facing the diner. There are two motorcycles parked at the edge near the intersection with a third lying on its side, all three a safe distance from the fire quickly engulfing the farthest corner of the dining room.

  I bounce against the locked door of the cruiser in an attempt to push my way out, screaming in frustration when I can’t get the door open.

  Before Jerry can unbuckle his seatbelt, Drak is ripping open the door and yanking me into his arms, his face covered in soot. His body trembles as he locks me against his chest, his arms wrapped in a death grip around my back. “Thank god, you’re okay. I thought I lost you.”

  “What happened to you?” I push against him, needing to check his body for damage.

  He lets me go and frames my face, kissing me with fear-filled possession. “I’m fine. I was looking for you. Your car is in the parking lot and I thought you were trapped inside, and when I couldn’t find you, I thought they’d taken you.”

  “Who?” Jerry stands beside us, his body rigid and face in full on cop mode.

  “The fuckers from Sunday night.” The look Drak shoots my brother-in-law would disintegrate most men.

  Jerry’s cheeks turn bright red with anger I’ve rarely seen from him.

  Ten feet away, Ma cries quietly—two strange females I don’t know comforting her—as the volunteer fire brigade drives up with their small truck that can barely handle a fire this size, followed by the local sheriff and two other deputies.

  Why are they only getting here now, and who called Jerry to alert him of the fire, if not them?

  “But why? Why would they set fire to the diner if they wanted to use it?” Jerry hisses through his clenched teeth, keeping his voice low, his eyes turning toward the other deputies as they approach our little group.

  “Damn shame,” the sheriff says, tilting his head toward the diner. “Looks like a portion of the dining room will be unusable for a while.”

  “Thank god no one was hurt,” another deputy says as the volunteer firefighters, all three of them, rush to put out the flames.

  “They could have been.” Jerry eagle-eyes him. “My sister-in-law and her friends were scheduled to have dinner there tonight. If she’d been able to leave the house when she wanted to, she would have been here.”

  The sheriff turns his gaze to me. “With no dining room, I guess you’re out of a job? Might be time to look for other opportunities.”

  My blood runs cold as I put the pieces together. Danny’s nondescript job offers, Drak seeing them running from the diner, and now the sheriff, who we all know is crooked, is making an off-handed comment like this. Did they set the fire to Ma’s diner to kill my job?

  Drak wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me back against his chest. “She doesn’t need a job.”

  “You must be the bikers from Maplewood.” The sheriff’s eyes roam over the men assembled. “You boys are far from home.”

  “We know who did this, if you plan to do anything about it.” I surge forward, which only causes Drak to tighten his grip and pin me harder against his chest.

  “No, we don’t, babydoll. We didn’t see anything. The diner was already on fire when we rolled up.”

  I crank my neck to stare daggers at him. What’s he saying? He just told us…

  The sheriff smiles. “We’ll launch a thorough investigation, but if there are no witnesses, there really isn’t much we can do.”

  Goddammit. They’re going to get away with it. Just like they got away with burning down Saint & Sinners last January. It’s infuriating enough to make me want to cry big, angry, frustrated tears. Where’s the justice? How can this be happening in America, the land of the free? Corruption wins and good people like Ma lose? This is bullshit, and I can’t believe Drak is okay with it.

  I shake my shoulders and he loosens his grip on me, letting me turn to face him. Tears fill my eyes as I shake my head, my lips trembling as I hold back the flood of emotion threatening to spill out of me. “I need to check on Ma.”

  Reluctantly, he lets me go.

  I push through the deputies and grab Ma, holding her tight as we both break down and sob.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Drak

  The fire’s out, the volunteers and deputies are gone, and Ma has collected everything she can from the office, piling it into the back of Jerry’s cruiser. Missy won’t look at me, as if I’ve betrayed her by not offering my eyewitness account of Danny and Tony fleeing the scene. She doesn’t understand that if the sheriff is in on it—and I’m absolutely certain the fucker is—he’ll take witnesses as a direct threat and they’ll be coming after us no matter where we go.

  I’m all for vengeance, but first I have to make sure my woman is safe. Even if the sheriff is a corrupt cop, he’s still a cop, and these things have to be handled with a level of diplomacy above my pay grade. I hate to admit it, but Aldis was right. We don’t want to invite trouble into our small town or our clubhouse, although we won’t turn a blind eye to its existence and we will answer the call if they come knocking. That the sheriff referenced us as the “bikers from Maplewood” told me everything I need to know. We’re on their radar and the more often we are seen riding through their territory, the more harassment we’re going to get.

  I have to get Missy out of here, but first, I need her to talk to me.

  “Is that everything?” I ask Ma as I hand Triton a box of files.

  She shakes her head. “I’m not sure what to grab and what not to, but I fear everything will be stolen by the morning if we don’t take it all.”

  “Look, Ma. Here comes Mr. Tom,” Missy says, pointing to a flatbed truck with a stockpile of plywood backing into the parking lot.

  “I guess we’ll be able to board up the windows after all. Does the storage room have a lock on it?” I take control of the situation, needing to take care of Missy and Ma and keep my hands busy. Otherwise I might lose all control, throw Missy over my shoulder, and spank the attitude out of her.

  “There is a lock, but I have no idea where the key is.” Ma glances around her disheveled diner and sighs.

  “Okay, why don’t you grab all the pots and pans and things easily picked up and move them into the storage room? I’ll go ask Mr. Tom if he can grab us a new lock and key.”

  Missy looks up at me with big eyes, her anger dimming with each passing second. “Thanks.”

  “I got you, babydoll.” I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and kiss her temple. “Go take care of Ma, and later I’ll take care of you.”

  She walks back into the kitchen and I turn to Triton and Chance. “Let’s help the old man secure this building.”

  Two hours later it’s dark out, the windows are boarded up, a sign for the customers is posted on what’s left of the door, and we have everything as secure as we can given the late hour. Mr. Tom, who conveniently owns the local hardware store, offers to take Ma home. I say thanks and goodnight to Chance, Triton, and their ladies, who have an hour-plus ride back to Maplewood. Missy sits on the hood of her Mustang, eating the last piece of the pie the rest of us demolished after all the work was done. Jerry waves as he pulls away, having already asked me if I was strapped.

  Of course, I am.

  My bike is scratched up, the front fairing and engine guard bent from when I dropped it on the ground, but it’s rideable. I walk over to Missy who, without looking up at me, offers me the last bite of pecan pie.

  I refuse. “Are you going to talk to me?”

  “Do you think this was my fault? Did they set fire to Ma’s dining room to put me out of a job?” She pops the bite in her mouth.

  “I don’t know, babydoll. Maybe, but regardless, this is not your fault.”

  She sighs and throws the empty pie tin and fork in the bushes. “I know why you couldn’t tell the sheriff who did this. I understand, but it still makes me mad.”

  “Justice is rarely served swiftly, but I promise you, they will get what’s coming to them.”

  Missy brings her eyes up to mine. “How?”

  “You don’t need to know that. Like Jerry said last week, the less Ma knows, the better. That goes double for you.”

  “Are you going to exact vengeance for me?”

  “I take care of what’s mine. You, Missy, are mine.” I cup her cheeks in my hands and lean down to place a tender kiss on her lips. Looking her in the eye, I whisper, “The question is, how difficult are you going to make this on me?”

  “What do you mean?” she whispers back.

  I take a step back and reach into my inside vest pocket before getting down on one knee. “Marry me.”

  Missy’s eyes bug out as she looks from the ring to my face. “What?”

  “I wasn’t going to do this after everything that happened tonight, but I need you to understand how serious I am and that this was my plan all along. You need to know that I want forever with you before I beg you to move in with me, and understand that you becoming my wife is what I want most in this world.”

  She slides down the hood of her car until her feet hit the ground. “Are you sure?”

  “I bought the ring yesterday, babydoll. Hours after you left. I slept for shit thinking about it all night, and how it didn’t feel right to not have you in my bed.” I grab her hand, sliding the ring over her first knuckle. “Marry me, Missy.”

  Her lips part, but nothing comes out as she nods her head.

  I grin and slide the ring all the way on. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Epilogue

  Drak - Six months later

  Life moves fast, and sometimes everything falls into place with no effort at all.

  I moved Missy to Maplewood the next day after spending the night in her tiny bedroom in Ma’s house. The way the tears poured out of Ma’s eyes when she saw the ring on Missy’s finger that night told me we had her blessing. That Friday we were at the Bexar County Courthouse signing our marriage license. Later, we celebrated our nuptials by having a fancy steak dinner with Chance and Jessa, Triton and Bess in downtown San Antonio. And even later that night, I made love to my wife against a glass window overlooking the Riverwalk. I guess we crossed the public or near public sex thing off her “I might like and would try” kink list.

  Three weeks later, Jerry, Melanie, and the kids moved to Waco where Jerry signed on with the McLennan County sheriff department. Ma stayed behind to work with Mr. Tom at the hardware store while she waited on the insurance company to settle her fire damage claim. What should have taken months to investigate and settle took weeks, and it turns out that Melanie and Jerry had insured the diner for more than it was worth considering Rizona’s absent economy. They cut Ma a fat check that she could have used to fix the dining room, but instead, she’s selling off all the equipment and closing the diner permanently.

  Missy is ecstatic considering the one looming fear she had was that Ma would try to reopen the diner by herself.

  “I need to run to the store again.” Missy looks up from paperwork when I enter the office. She’s been handling the shooting range’s advertising while studying graphic design with Bess and has been pulling in some big-money clients. Apparently, the themed shooting range is a big hit—not just my twisted sense of humor—and millionaires will pay top dollar to shoot semi-automatic rifles at full tilt. I’m talking to Mack now about selling me about fifty acres so we can create multiple courses. Considering none of his zoning approvals are going through, I think he might ask to partner and develop all three hundred.

 

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