Chapter 3
Stay Calm
Ivy
Four months later…
“I’ve been thinking,” Chad said, popping a tray of chopped potatoes into my oven.
Every Sunday, I got together with him and we made dinner together. Our close friend Kristen joined us when she had the time, but tonight she had a family dinner.
Except for around the holidays, we kept it very casual.
Since we were at my place, I was wearing one of my favorite Jane Austen inspired t-shirts and a pair of silky-soft lounge pants.
Chad was dressed as casually as could be expected in a colorful pair of madras shorts and a mushroom-colored polo shirt.
“You’ve been thinking… I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”
He leaned against the counter and grabbed his glass of white wine. “I think you messed up going to that bar by yourself back in May.”
I nodded. “Because you wanted to come with me, but Chad—”
“No, because you were too direct. That makes you hell on wheels at your job, but this needs a softer touch.”
I nodded once. “Go on.”
“See, if Kristen and I had been with you, we wouldn’t have just asked to see Lark. We’d have found a spot at the bar, ordered something, and been more discreet.”
My lips quirked with skepticism. “You mean we’d have hung out and waited for Lark to show himself.”
“No, I mean we’d have been discreet. Asking them why the bar’s called what it is…it’s a new business. They’ve got to get the word out, and most people love talking about themselves.”
I shook my head. “They’d have seen right through that.”
Chad swirled the wine in his glass then put it on the counter. “Maybe so. Under the circumstances, I think fate has sent you a sign, Ivy.”
I turned my gaze toward my kitchen window, trying not to roll my eyes. “You’ve told me that before.”
“No, I haven’t.”
I shifted my gaze back to Chad. “Not in so many words, but—”
He crossed his arms on his broad chest. “Why are you so determined to talk to this man?”
“I just want to meet him. That isn’t wrong,” I said in a small voice, mainly because I’d told Chad this numerous times in the past.
“No, it isn’t wrong, but you also want him to meet Debra.”
“Yeah, because maybe she’s curious about the man whose genes I share.”
“Or maybe she isn’t,” Chad argued.
For some reason, I couldn’t entertain that idea – no matter how logical it might be. “It’s also up to him, Chad. The fact he has three people gatekeeping for him makes me wonder what he’s hiding.”
Chad grabbed his wine glass. “Could be hazing.”
“No way,” I scoffed.
“Ivy, you didn’t do Greek life—”
“This isn’t college.”
“No, but a club is a club and a lot of them have rituals, rites of passage… you know, hazing.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, but the effort was feeble seeing as my best friend was looking out for me, or trying to anyway. “Something tells me you’re wrong. I just wanna meet Lark and I’m going back there after work tomorrow.”
Chad pressed his lips together while his cheeks puffed out like he was holding in his anger. “You’ve always been too independent for your own good.”
I shrugged. “Nothing wrong with being independent.”
“Sure, except you’d do everything yourself if you could.”
“That’s not true. I do group-like things.” I paused and nodded. “I definitely can’t do my job all on my own, there’s plenty of people I depend on to close deals, and I’m part of professional groups.”
Chad smiled. “Yeah, because your boss forced you to join them.” He tipped his wine glass toward me, his eyes darting to my t-shirt.
“I gave you that shirt not because you love Jane Austen, but because you’re the most obstinate and headstrong woman I’ve ever met.
At this point though, even the society of headstrong and obstinate girls wouldn’t take you. ”
I smirked. “Of course not. They’re obstinate and headstrong.”
His posture slumped. “Oh, my Ivy. You got answers for everything.”
“Except this Lark guy, which is why I’m going tomorrow night.”
“It’s been months since you were there. I thought you’d let it go.”
I wandered to the freezer, pulled out a bag of edamame, and popped it in the microwave. “Nope. I’ve been watching the bar in the afternoons and early evenings for the past few weeks.”
Chad’s body tensed. “Jesus! Why are you keeping things from me?”
I set the microwave to run and faced him.
“Because I’m obstinate and headstrong? Anyway, their sister leaves at five for a break that’s been taking roughly two hours.
She comes back a little after seven. Killian leaves at six and Ryan leaves at six-thirty during the week, so I’m going in at six-forty-five.
Fifteen minutes should be plenty of time. ”
Chad sipped his wine. “The way you described those two men…I thought you couldn’t tell the difference between them. I suppose that doesn’t matter as long as you see both men leave. But, are you sure you’re right about their schedules?”
“Sure, I’m sure.”
Chad shook his head. “I should meet you there. I’ll—”
He couldn’t be there, that I knew for certain even if I didn’t know exactly why.
“No! Chad, I’m good. It’s just a conversation.”
“Yes, it’s a life-changing conversation. Which could leave you in emotional tatters.”
That sounded dramatic, but Chad knew me well.
Part of what fueled my headstrong obstinance was to make sure nobody could hurt me…
and that was ultimately why I didn’t want Chad there.
If I got rejected, it would hurt, but it would also be incredibly embarrassing (which was a different kind of pain), and I didn’t want anyone I knew witnessing that.
I shot my friend a gentle look. “I’ll call if I need you.”
Chad matched my gentle look but paired it with a gleam of sternness in his eyes. “No, sweets. You’ll call me before you leave there, so I know you’re good.”
As usual, Chad was right: I should have brought him with me – not that I would tell him that.
Traffic on the Buckman Bridge put me over an hour behind my usual schedule for scoping out On a Lark Bar and Grill.
I pulled up to my normal spot at six-fifteen.
Five minutes later, Ryan came outside. There was a remote chance it was really Killian, but as bad as traffic was all over town – Ryan had to be leaving early.
He threw a leg over his motorcycle, and I glanced away at the sight. Something about watching him climb on his bike made my belly flip and my breath catch.
What was that?
I might be attracted to him, but I wouldn’t let that attraction grow.
The roar of the bike’s engine got my attention. The moment I lost sight of the bike’s tail light after he got on US 90, I hopped out of my car and beelined toward the bar and grill.
As I strode along the sidewalk leading to the front door, a tall man wearing a baseball cap backwards blocked my path.
“About time you came out to play,” he said in a low voice.
Vaguely, I suspected he was the man who’d beaten on my car hood the first time I’d been here.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know you.”
He grinned, exposing yellowed teeth. Then he turned his head to spit, and I noticed the bulge of chewing tobacco in his cheek. “Don’t matter. I remember you. Scared you so bad, you jumped like a rabbit. Made my fuckin’ day.”
I didn’t like his vibe, but something told me being bitchy wouldn’t help me here, so I softened my tone. “Listen, I’m not interested. It’s not you, I’m in a crazy place at work right now and—”
I cut myself off when he chuckled. I read books, and I always found ‘dark’ to be the worst word to describe a chuckle. But now I’d actually heard one and I fought off a shiver.
“Don’t care if you’re ‘interested’ or not. I get what I want. Bonus, I saw how that prick bouncer drooled after you.”
I stepped back two paces. “He doesn’t even know me.”
“Bullshit. You followed him home four nights last week.”
Well, crud.
To an ignorant observer it probably looked that way, but there were only two ways back to the Interstate from here. Of course I probably went the same way as Ryan – or Killian did. My guess was this guy didn’t know the difference between them any better than I did.
I shook my head. “I’m just here to talk to the owner. Now, if you’ll let me pass—”
From his hip, he brought up a handgun. “Bitch, you’re comin’ with me.”
Fear raced through my veins and my mind froze.
The strap of my purse slid down my arm and I vaguely heard something hit the ground.
I wanted to run, but he’d probably shoot me.
For a second, I considered grabbing his arm and pushing it away, but he’d probably shoot me.
As things stood, he’d take me somewhere else, and probably shoot me.
A few feet separated us. The man’s eyes darted to the side as someone hopped over the low metal fence delineating the smoker’s patio.
Next thing I knew, one of the triplets stood in between me and the other man.
I didn’t know which one because he had his back to me.
His vest looked different up close compared to the last few nights.
The backside featured a large, embroidered patch of a skull perched on an upturned fist with wings jutting out to the sides.
An arched patch above the skull read “Riot MC,” and a curved patch at the bottom read, “Jacksonville, FL.” From what little I knew about the biker culture, having this patch now had to be a big deal.
I was pulled from my thoughts when he said, “Let her go.”
The tobacco chewing man scoffed. “Look at that, you got a nickname now. ‘Nickel.’ Must be because that’s all your life’s gonna be worth.”
Nickel’s voice dropped an octave. “You got an issue with me, be a man and take it up with me.”
Movement from my other side diverted my attention. Another man had wandered up to us, and he had a gun aimed at me.
Nickle’s head shifted just enough to see the movement.
“We’ll take it up with both of you. Come with us or I’ll shoot her.”
From over Nickel’s shoulder, I saw the tobacco-chewer smirk. “Hand over your gun, asshole.”
I heard him sigh before giving up his weapon.
The man took it and waved us toward the other side of the lot.
Before I could move, the second man grabbed my bicep and dragged me to a beat-up, dark green Nissan Frontier. He shoved me into the back of the cab. “Slide over, bitch.”
I did as ordered, expecting him to follow me, but then I smelled leather and saw Nickel had climbed in beside me.
“You got cuffs?” the man at the door asked.
“Rusty didn’t tell me to bring cuffs,” the tobacco chewer said.
“Dammit, Campbell, do you think these two won't try to run us off the road?”
“I got zip-ties, Boyd.”
“Well, move your ass and get ‘em,” Boyd said from the door.
I opened my mouth thinking someone would hear me scream, but Nickel grabbed my thigh. “Don’t. It’ll make it worse,” he whispered.
I whispered back, “Are you Killian or—”
“Ryan. Stay calm,” he whispered.
I almost choked with my urge to laugh. “Impossible,” I muttered.
“Shut up back there,” Boyd said, brandishing his gun.
The door to my left opened. Campbell stood there holding his gun in one hand and a zip-tie in the other. At some point he must have chucked his tobacco because the bulge in his cheek was gone.
From the other side of the cab, Boyd leaned toward us. “Put your fuckin’ gun away, Campbell, and get her wrists bound. She does anything, I shoot the biker and then I shoot her.”
My eyes slid to the side and saw Boyd had the gun held inches from Ryan’s head.
Ryan’s head moved in an imperceptible nod for me to cooperate.
I held my wrists out and Campbell wrapped the zip-tie around.
“Don’t cut off her circulation,” Boyd said, not a moment too soon.
Campbell gave a low pitched chuckle. “Oh, right.”
I couldn’t fathom why we weren’t fighting these two assholes, but I had to trust that Ryan had good reason for me not to fight back. Maybe he was biding his time and letting them think we were coming willingly. Then again, a loaded gun made resistance a bad idea.
The moment my wrists were bound, Campbell shut my door. I heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh and suddenly Ryan slumped against me.
I let out a scream.
The cab dipped as Boyd put a foot on the running board and leaned inside. “Shut up, Ivy, or I’ll shoot him for good measure.”
“What’d you do?” Campbell asked from behind Boyd.
Boyd angled out of the truck and jerked his head toward Ryan. “No way he was going to let us zip-tie him, so I pistol-whipped him to knock him out. Get his wrists and let’s go.”
Campbell grabbed Ryan’s wrists while I sat there fuming and struggling to think of a good way to get out of this. I could shove Ryan’s body at Campbell, but Boyd would shoot me – hell, he’d probably shoot us both.
Once Campbell shut the door on us, I kept my gaze on Ryan’s chest. I needed to know he was breathing because I’d never been around someone who’d been knocked out. After a moment, I saw a slight rise and felt a rush of relief.
Suddenly, my door was wrenched open again. I twisted my head and saw Boyd standing there. Too late, I realized his fist was zooming toward me. Pain exploded behind my temple and my vision went dark.