47. Tee
Tee
Three days later
U nsurprisingly, after the whole shooting incident at the bar, the town was pretty riled up and things were busy for Cody.
It meant that the night we were supposed to spend by the lake, enjoying the sunset, didn’t happen like we planned.
I half-expected he’d pull away, stick to the couch, and forget about our talks, but though he came home late every night and woke up before I did, I knew he slept beside me.
The faint scent of his aftershave on my pillow, the watch he forgot and left on my nightstand—they were clues and I cherished them.
I didn’t mind when Lindsay started eying me oddly—maybe she’d seen him sneak out of my room?
His absence, however, meant Callan and I had to face our dogs on our own.
“Why does he keep biting me?” I groan, wiggling my hand to shake off the sting.
“Be grateful yours has hardly any teeth. Mine’s are sharper than a razor,” he grouches. “I had to buy new socks because Rocket’s obsessed with chewing on them. I think Zee’s idea of a punishment is dropping a pair into the stall whenever she goes for a ride. How else is Rocket even accessing my socks when the little shit refuses to come into the house?”
Plopping down on the dirt-packed ground, I mutter, “It’s destiny.”
“What is?”
“Or do I mean karma?”
“What?!” he snaps, his tone unusually sharp, but I understand.
Wanting to love something that seriously dislikes you gets pretty wearing.
I rub my nose because I refuse to cry. “Karma. We adopted dogs for everyone, we tried to bewitch them, yet here we are. Complete and utter failures.”
“At least we got them out of the paddock.”
“That was last week’s win. Anyway, how are the stables any better?”
“We don’t have to worry about them running off,” he points out, sounding as glum as I feel.
“By this point, they’d probably be happier if they did,” I grouse.
“We can’t give up, Tee.”
“I never said we would. I ... Are we distressing them by making them put up with us?”
At that, he tumbles back on a pile of hay. “Damn, I never thought of it that way.”
“You two sound cheerful.”
The deep tenor of my fake un-boyfriend comes as a delicious surprise. When I perform the quickest sit-up in history, it’s worth it when I find him watching us over the stable door.
Happy to see him in the light of day and when I’m actually conscious, I beam a grin at him. “What are you doing here?”
“He lives here, Tee,” Callan says wryly.
“It’s early!” I argue.
Cody and I share a knowing look. “I heard you’re still having issues with the dogs.”
Callan plucks at the hay bale. “The hellhounds, you mean.”
“More like hell pups. They’re not exactly terrifying, Cal.”
“Maybe because you don’t keep being bitten by them!”
“We’ve tried everything,” I wail.
“Have you tried leaving them alone?”
I blink at him. “We can’t abandon them!”
“I never said to abandon them. I meant play hard to get.”
“That doesn’t work on dogs.”
“Does it work on humans?” Callan sniffs.
I elbow him in the side. “Just because it’s not working out with you and Eloise doesn’t mean it isn’t working.”
“She’s dating Calder!”
“I told you that they have zero chemistry.”
“You didn’t see them on stage at the music festival.”
“They’re actors,” I insert. “They’d be shitty ones if they couldn’t pretend to be in love for a role.”
Callan’s shoulders slump, and though I pat one in commiseration, Cody’s arched brow has me clearing my throat. “How do you play hard to get with a dog?”
“I can tell you what it doesn’t include—the pair of you sitting on the stables floor, hoping they’ll stop biting your ankles while complaining about karma.”
“To be fair, that’s already a better plan than ours, Callan.”
“Any plan that involves no bloodshed, I’m happy with.”
Snorting, I hold out my hand and wait for Cody to grab it, letting him tug me upright. I do the same with Callan.
Together, we leave the stables and watch the dogs who’ve finally stopped snarling at us now that we’ve left them in peace.
“Every day,” Cody informs us. “You’re going to whistle when you step into the stables.”
“Whistle. We can do that, can’t we, Callan?”
Cody’s baby brother nods. “Then what?”
“You’re going to have a treat in your hand and you’re going to leave it in front of the stall door. You’re going to stand there until they come for it. But you don’t enter the stall. You got me?”
Callan sniffs. “We got you, Cody.”
“I don’t have to share my wisdom,” Cody warns, taking a half-step back.
“Callan!” I shriek.
“Fine, fine. What next?”
“Nothing. You wait until they come to the door immediately after you whistle. And then, when they do, you start opening the door. You crouch down to their level, and you wait until they come to you for the treat.”
“That’s it?”
“It’s desensitization, Callan. They’re terrified of humans?—”
“No, they’re not. They don’t bite the ranch hands. They bite us,” I tack on miserably.
“You have to get them to associate you with treats.”
When Cody’s hand settles on the curve of my ass, I tuck my chin into my chest and try not to be obvious about stepping closer to him.
“Fine, I guess we don’t have another plan, do we, Tee?”
“No. We don’t.”
“You need to learn patience. This could take months.”
“What?! But it’s so simple!”
“You have two traumatized dogs. You can’t click your fingers and everything will turn right with them.”
“Shame.”
Cody snorts. “Yeah. Shame.”
Callan grumbles, “I’ll see you here tomorrow, Tee. Same time?”
“Yup. No Halo this afternoon?”
“Nah, I’m sick of losing.”
“You going for a ride, Callan?” Cody asks.
“No. I have work to do. I’ll see you both later.”
As he storms out, leaving us alone, I sidle closer to him. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Nice? Sheesh. Kill me with kindness, baby girl.”
The endearment has me turning to goo below the boobs.
Pressing into him, I murmur, “I meant... you’ve been sneaking in and out of my room so well that I haven’t seen you in ages. Not this early, anyway.”
His chin plops onto my shoulder. “Been crazy and I escaped while I could.”
“I thought the case was transferred to the RCMP?”
“Yeah, but we were assigned their minor cases so they could handle this because Reilly—as my nanna used to say—couldn’t organize a piss-up in a brewery and it’s taking them ten times as long to do anything.”
“Isn’t Sergeant Stick-Up-His-Butt still being investigated?”
“The mayor called him in because his expertise was ‘greatly needed.’”
“Ha! You have more expertise than him.”
“Maybe. Not experience though. The man might be corrupt, but he knows what he’s doing...”
Because he doesn’t sound too sure, I tease, “You positive about that?”
“No, but it can’t be any worse than my handling of the shooting.”
“What do you mean?”
“It felt like a clusterfuck, but I don’t think there was anything else I could have done to control the situation.”
“Are you being investigated?”
“No. Though, if the dead biker or the one who nearly lost an arm to Brogan were anyone important, that would be a yes. As it stands, I had to write up multiple reports and we had extra training to deal with hostage situations this past week.”
My brows lift. “You know a problem shared is a problem halved, don’t you?”
“I’ve heard it said many a time.”
“You could have offloaded onto me.”
“I wanted this over, Tee. The sooner it was, the sooner I could get things back to normal.”
“Is anything ever normal in this town?”
He chuckles in my ear. The low tenor of it, the delicious rawness, has me melting into him.
“I have sunsets to watch with a certain fake un-girlfriend and orgasms to bestow... Crime has severely gotten in my way this week.”
“How dare it?” I mock-gasp, but I’m smiling.
His hand lands on my stomach as he drags me deeper into his embrace. “Have you been making music?”
“Like my life depended on it. I handed Colt his album yesterday and I’ve almost finished the CD I want you to give to Jerry Majors.”
“Can I listen?”
Pink tinges my cheeks. “Sure. If you want to.”
“You know I enjoy your music.” He drops a kiss on my temple. “The reason I took a half-day is… I wondered if you wanted to head into Saskatoon. If I remember correctly, you had ‘visit a crystal store’ on your checklist.”
Could he be any more perfect?
“I thought I’d have to drag you there!”
“Figured we could go to that fast food joint and end things at the lake.”
I pluck at his shirt. “That sounds like my idea of a good time.”
“Meet you out front in twenty minutes?”
“Definitely.”
I leave first, quickly use the bathroom, then step out and find Zee sitting on my bed. From behind her, I see her Bichon Frisé sniffing around the corners.
“What’s up?”
“Colton said that I should stop complaining to him about this dog and complain to you instead.”
“As fun as that sounds,” I mock, “I have plans.”
Her brows lift. “What kind of plans?”
“I’m going out.”
“Where? To your nonna’s? I haven’t seen her in ages. I could come with you?”
“I’m going into the city with Cody.”
Her eyes widen. “Have you forgiven him for being Butch?”
“No. And I wasn’t mad at him for being Butch, but for sending me a ‘Dear John’ letter,” I correct.
“Then what are you doing with him?”
“Taking him shopping.” Zee looks at me like I’ve lost the plot, but I waft a hand. “It makes sense.”
“It does?” Zee plucks at the comforter. “What are you buying?”
“Crystals.”
“Crystals,” she repeats before letting loose a whistle. “Wow. He’s really a goner, isn’t he?”
I bite my lip. “It’s mutual.”
She studies me. “He’s as cool as Butch?”
“Better,” I confess, twisting and plunking myself beside her on the bed.
(I wish he wasn’t. I wouldn’t be putty for him if he weren’t so cool. And sweet. And wonderful.)
“Are you dating?”
“Nuh-uh.”
Annoyed, she folds her arms across her chest. “Are you keeping more secrets from me?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” She squints at me. “Don’t change the subject though.”
“I’m not. But it’s a roundabout way of asking you something.”
“When isn’t it with you?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Take it however you want, it’s the truth,” she retorts with a huff.
“Walker.”
“What about my brother?”
“Did you know I had a massive crush on him?”
“I think the Martians knew that. You used to start humming whenever he entered a ro—” She blinks. “Oh. You’re humming a lot and making so much music right now. He’s the reason for it?”
I nod.
“I thought you were sad.”
“I was, but he’s… he makes the synapses in my brain fire.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I haven’t told anyone apart from Nonna, and she mostly guessed.”
“How come?” Her brow furrows. “My being married to Colt changes nothing between us, Tee.”
I scoff. “I know that.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
“Did I ever talk to you about Walker?”
“No. Oh! I see what you mean. How have I just realized that you clam up when you’re in love?”
“Probably because the last time it happened, Walker was… alive.”
She releases a breath.
I can tell that each year rushes through her mind—days and weeks and months without her older brother who was lost to one of the many dumb wars humans fight.
(Humans suck.)
I reach for her hand. “Have you seen Cody’s cop car?”
“He parks it outside sometimes.”
“The headrest on the driver’s side…”
“What about it?”
“There was a bullet hole there.” My throat bobs. “If he hadn’t been faster, he might have died.”
Her hand clutches at mine. “He didn’t though.”
“He’s on the front line, Zee. He… We might lose him.”
“Like Walker.” She winces. “We might not though. This is Pigeon Creek, not Baghdad.”
“True.”
Her gaze finds mine by chasing me until I can’t avoid her eyes. “You can’t live like that.”
“I can’t?”
“No. Because whether you pull away from him or not, he’ll still be a marshal. Only, he won’t be yours. And he could die whether or not you’re together and it’d still hurt because you’d forever be wondering about the lost potential. Never mind the fact you’re close to his family through me and would experience the grief firsthand.”
“I could shut it down.”
“You don’t want to, though. You’re taking him crystal shopping. We both know what that means.”
“It means I want to punish him,” I correct, tone wry.
But she tuts. “Nope. It means you want to show him a side of yourself that you show very few people. Hell, even I haven’t gone crystal shopping with you. You don’t even give me crystals. I only found out about the damn crystals when you had that amethyst cathedral delivered here and Colt had to help bring it in.”
“Only because you think they’re just pretty rocks,” I mumble.
“They are. But you don’t. They matter to you. Showing him means you want him to see that. I guess it’s a test too. If he mocks you, then you know to dump him.”
“He won’t mock me. I used to send him crystals in our letters.”
She chokes out a laugh. “Of course you did. So, you were worried about him dying and he still hasn’t gone crystal shopping with you. I’m assuming there’s something else stopping you from telling the world you’re dating. Hit me with it so I can bat it out of the park and take away the problem.”
“Tee?!” Cody hollers up the stairs.
“Five minutes,” I yell back.
“He’s not very good at keeping it quiet, is he?”
“He doesn’t want to. I just don’t want Mom overreacting.”
That has her cringing. “Ah, shit. You do know if you ever get married, she’d be the bridezilla, not you?”
“I know.”
“Speaking of, Callan’s going to be turning into one soon.”
“One, what?”
“A bridezilla. Cole called him last night. Asked if he’d organize his and Mia’s wedding on the ranch for Thanksgiving.”
“He never said anything.” I grunt as I contemplate how all the Korhonen boys have zippers for lips. “US or ours?”
“Thanksgiving? Ours.”
“Short time turnaround.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s Callan.”
I tease, “Does he get an engagement ring?”
“What he gets is headaches. Prepare to be asked to play at the service.”
“Sure thing.”
“So, you’re hiding Cody away because of your bridezilla?”
“We both know she’ll make assumptions.”
“Yes, and since when do you care about those?”
“She’s been more of a pain than ever since I came home. I think it’s the whole being unemployed thing. And now you have Puddles, who’s usurped my position as service animal…”
She shoves my arm, though we’re both snickering. “Shut up.”
“Nah. Wouldn’t be much of a conversation if I were quiet.”
“True. The house would be more peaceful though.”
“You mean boring.”
“Fat chance,” she derides.
And though I’m still smiling, I mumble, “What if he changes his mind?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Zee soothes, curving her arm around my shoulders and tucking me into her side. “If he does, I’ll get one of the Sinners to break his kneecaps.”
I peep up at her. “Parker said she’d set Sweet Lips on him too.”
“He’d be a fool to hurt you, and I don’t take him for a fool, do you?”
“No, I wouldn’t like him if he was. He says he understands why I feel this way and wants to make it up to me.”
“That sounds like you have some epic dates ahead of you.”
“It does, huh?”
“Yup. Just don’t cut me out, Tee.” She rests her temple against mine. “I’m always here if you need me.”
“I needed to wallow, I think.” I hum. “It helped me start creating. I could write Cole and Mia some music for their ceremony.”
“Whatever you want.” She squeezes me. “You should go.”
“Yeah.” I don’t move.
“Maybe we can visit Nonna this weekend?”
“Sounds good. I’ll text her and she can make sure there’s the special cannoli for you.”
“Now you’re just bribing me.”
“Is it working?”
“Yup.” With a quick kiss to my cheek, she murmurs, “Have a blast.”
“I will.”
She graces me with a wave before traipsing out of my room, Puddles following her. I smile at the sight, then pack my bag for the upcoming afternoon.
That done, I change my T-shirt to a blouse that has a deeper V-neck and spritz some perfume onto my pulse points.
Once I’m ready, I rush down the stairs at the back of the house because there are fewer chances of being spotted.
Though I see Rebecca, one of the housekeepers, she’s wearing earbuds so she doesn’t notice me.
When I’m outside, I round the building and find Cody waiting in his truck.
Slipping into the front seat isn’t an easy task because I could always use a leg up, but I manage it by launching myself into the passenger seat.
It doesn’t work.
“There has to be a more elegant way of doing that,” I grumble before I can fall out.
“Like waiting for me to hitch you up?” he teases, laughing as he grabs my arm and helps drag me deeper into the cab. “Jesus, Tee.”
I huff. “Let’s get out of here.” Then, I realize we’re alone. “Where’s Brogan?”
“Chilling with Floof.”
“Didn’t Colt ask why?”
“Nope.”
“Do you want to listen to my songs?” I query once we’re on the road.
“Sure.” He waves a hand at his dash. “Sync your phone when you’re ready.”
As we drive down the curving roads toward the city, I complete the sync then suck in a breath.
“What is it?”
“I’m nervous.”
He grabs my hand and tangles our fingers together on his knee. I shouldn’t like that as much as I do. “No need to be nervous.”
“Sure, there is.”
“No, there isn’t. I know I’ll love it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Are we going to bicker about it the whole way there, or are you going to let me listen?”
I sniff but hit play.
The first song is the ditty he liked so much. But an upgraded version with a solo from the oboe that, in a word, is epic. And though my piano work isn’t as precise as I’d prefer, the whole effect is a strange combination of exciting and haunting.
It’s only since he brought up Jerry Majors that I realize how suited my music is for the movies. Epic scenes require music that sends chills down a viewer’s spine or that’ll lull them into a false sense of security. I can do that. I know I can.
I watch a smile dance on his lips, his fingers tapping on the wheel to the beat before I stare out the window to hide my anxiety.
Being timid about my music is new to me.
Damned inconvenient too, I think, as he turns up the volume and lowers our windows. In sync, the autumnal wind blusters in, making the chords dance in time to nature.
When I see his reflection in the side mirror, there’s genuine enjoyment etched into his features—a kind of sweet sorrow that makes me realize how tense he usually is and which is in response to the rather piercing English horn solo. This would be fitting of a war scene, I think to myself—the aftermath. When the injured are gathered and the dead counted.
I relax some, sensing his genuine appreciation, and settle back for the ride.
It’s surprisingly nice to sit with him. No talking. Just listening. The road in front of us an endless prairie that invites a person to never stop, to carry on, to let the destination decide itself because life’s all about the journey.
There are more signs of summer drifting into fall, and as I so often do, my mind shifts onto what he once wrote in a letter about Inuvik being beautiful around this time of the year.
As I watch an amber-hued leaf tumble to the ground as we drive past it, he lowers the volume. “This is magic, Tee.”
My cheeks blossom with heat. “Oh, hush.”
“No, I mean it. I always loved music, but this is... I’m not sure how you did it. It’s eerie and poignant but joyous and vibrant too. You played all the parts?”
Blushing harder than ever, I mutter, “Yeah.”
“I didn’t realize you could play the piano.”
“I have a rudimentary talent with it as well as a love/hate relationship.”
“Doesn’t sound like it to me. This is what you’ve been working on since you moved home?”
“No. A good chunk, but I rerecorded some of them. A few are quite old. Mrs. Frobisher... she made me think of my original stuff. It was quite nice to revisit them.”
“You want me to get in touch with Sundance yet?”
“No, they’re not ready.”
“Sure, they are. You can’t polish perfection.”
“They’re not perfect.” I laugh, though I don’t have a problem hearing it.
As we drive along the highway, a glint in the mirror has me frowning.
When it’s tacked on by a rumble that has nothing to do with thunder, I recognize the noise.
“Cody?”
His hands tighten around the steering wheel before he taps a button that lowers the volume. “I hear them.”
The small speck that glinted in the distance suddenly splits, like bacterium in a petri dish, binary fission making their numbers double, triple, quadruple until there are thirty of them on the horizon.
‘Them’ being motorcycles.
“Do not get out of the truck.”
My head whips around to face him. “What do you mean?”
He turns off the music completely. “They’re here for me.”
“What?!”
“Don’t freak out,” he attempts (and fails) to soothe. “It’ll be fine, but do not get out of the truck.”
I squawk: “If I can’t, then neither can you!”
He chuckles, low and gnarly. It has no right to be sexy, but it is. All of a sudden, I’m looking at Dirty Cody and he’s about to ask some punks if they’re feeling lucky.
I refuse to squirm because he clearly thinks the motorcycles present a danger and, to be fair, bikers don’t tend to ride in that formation.
You know, double file, sure. But horizontally, not vertically. Taking up the entire width of the road so that they block both sides is out of the norm.
Whatever the fuck’s going on, Cody believes it’s about us, so I gird my loins, shove my inappropriate attraction aside for later, when those bikes drive right on by and leave us the hell alone.
That should happen in six, five, four...
The Satan’s Sinners would never do this.
They’re not that stupid.
Three.
Is anyone that stupid?
Two.
Who’d try to knowingly intimidate a cop? And how do they even know Cody’s behind the wheel? We’re riding in his personal truck.
One.
They overtake us.
Thank fuck.
They’re not too stupid to live.
Only…
My hope sours as, instead of driving on, a good swell of them circle us, which has Cody snapping, “Fuck!”
His palm pummels the front of the wheel, blaring the horn, but it wasn’t intentional, more as a way to diffuse his anger.
A few of the bikers stick their tongues out at me between the ‘V’ of their pointer and middle fingers.
Gross .
These guys don’t look like the Satan’s Sinners either. They’re varying levels of dirty and grody.
I turn away from them, not wanting them to think they’re intimidating me.
(It’s totally working.)
(Man, does this mean I’m more forgiving of the Sinners committing acts of murder because they’re pretty?!)
Before I can accept exactly how superficial I am, Cody snarls, “You stay in the goddamn truck, Tee.” That he’s repeating himself tells me more than he probably wants me to know.
“I will.” I won’t disobey. Not much. “What do they want?”
“I don’t know. I assume it’s something to do with the shooting at the bar.”
“What about it?”
“One biker was killed, another is in jail with Brogan’s teeth marks where his arm used to be, and the girl… She’s the daughter of the Prez. She’s a rat, but she’s in protective custody.”
(I totes owe Brogan another freakin’ T-bone.)
My throat works as I think about the consequences of the shooting and what it might mean for us… God, when I talked about this with Zee, I didn’t think we’d be coming face-to-face with it forty minutes later!
“Please, be safe, Cody,” I plead.
“I’ll be fine so long as you keep your ass in the truck. Seriously, Tee?—”
Irritation pierces my anxiety. “I heard you the first time, Cody!”
“I know you better than you think. Don’t make me split my attention.”
“I won’t,” I grate out, but it’s hard to be annoyed at the lack of trust because if they hurt him, I’m not sure I could stay put.
(It’s so annoying he knows that.)
Keeping my fingers, tits, and toes crossed, I cringe when they force us off the asphalt and onto the dirt access road that runs parallel to the highway. They can’t yank them open because he locked the doors when I clambered into the truck, but the bikes shuffle downwind.
“Razer? What the fuck is going on?” he hollers once he’s lowered his window.
“Razer ain’t here,” a biker sneers. “We’d like to have a chat with you. Get out of the truck.”
“I will but she won’t.”
“Don’t.” My hand collides with his knee.
When I squeeze, he grumbles, “Bad knee.”
“Fuck.” I shift it higher on his thigh, clutching it as I rasp, “ Please, don’t. It’s suicide.”
“That’s fine,” the biker yells. “Our beef ain’t with her anyway.”
As much of a relief as that should be, I’m still sweating buckets.
“Don’t, Cody. Please.”
“They’re not going to drop this until I do. It’s fine, baby.”
“It’s the opposite of fine!”
Sucking in a breath when I take him in, I register an unsavory truth—he’s not putting on a brave face. He is fine.
In fact, he’s calm as fuck.
Ice cold.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is my man.
Except, he isn’t.
And he needs to be.
Officially.
Ring on his finger and everything?—
“Let go, sweetheart. I’ll be back in this truck in ten minutes and we’ll pick out whichever crystals you want.”
I gulp. “I should have given you one for good luck.”
Something gleams in his eyes. “You make your own luck in this world, my sweet girl.” He snags my hand, lifts my knuckles to his lips, and gives them a kiss. “Lock the door behind me.”
Like a bunch of teenagers, the bikers hoot and make smacking noises, but Cody’s indifferent as he climbs out of the truck and shuts the door. He doesn’t move until I hit the lock. Only then does he amble around the fender and lean against it. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
How does he sound calm? He doesn’t even look angry or scared—he’s just blank.
I hate it, but somehow, I know that’s when he’s at his most dangerous.
Suddenly, I’m not scared for him but for the bikers!
(Cops can’t go to jail if they kill someone who’s threatening them, right?)
Heart racing, I tune in as one of the men strolls toward Cody.
When he sticks out his hand, my eyes bug.
“I’m—”
“Filch,” Cody inserts, hand outstretching to take the biker’s. “I know who you are. Made it my business to.”
“See, what we’re real curious about is what’s going on with Razer. He comes back to the clubhouse like nothing fucking happened. Like his brat didn’t murder someone after snitching to the fucking pigs and he didn’t shoot Kit in the goddamn head.” Filch’s chin juts out. “That pissed off a lot of people. We get saving your skin, we get saving one of our kids, but the skin of a fucking rat? Nah. We don’t sacrifice brothers for rats.”
“Where is Razer?” Cody questions, arms folding across his chest.
“You were seen talking to him. Outside the station.”
“I’m sure I was. The fucker talked his way out of a double murder and possession charges. I couldn’t question him because the RCMP took over the case before I had a chance to grill him.”
Filch’s eyes narrow. “Who are you?”
I can’t stop myself from hollering, “He’s killed more people than you, that’s who!”
Cody whips around to glower at me. “Shut up, Tee.”
“You going to kill a decorated war hero?” I snipe.
“We ain’t killing no pigs. Never can get the smell of bacon out your hair.” Filch raises his hands in a show of surrender. “All we want is to know the lay of the land.”
“And why are you asking me? The RCMP took over the case. I’m just the chief of the Marshal Service.”
“The rat snitched to you, didn’t she?”
Cody straightens. “‘The lay of the land’ is that we’re filing for civil forfeiture on your bar.”
“That’ll take years,” he sneers.
“Whatever—you’d be dumb as fuck if you kept the bar up and running. You think we won’t be sniffing around you if you so much as fart? For whatever goddamn reason, you opened a bar on my turf. That reason’s gone and I expect you to fuck off.”
“Now, wait a minute?—”
“I know you were using a part of my family’s property to grow weed, and I understand losing access to that pissed you off, but it’s tough shit. The RCMP is sniffing around and they’re not about to stop until they find more than Razer to throw the book at.
“I can tell you Razer didn’t rat anyone out. I can tell you that everything he did, he blamed on Faulkner?—”
“Why are you telling us this?” Filch demands as he lights a cigarette.
“Because you got my truck surrounded and you’re not going to leave until I give you some answers. You think I give a damn about the Marshals Service? She’s right—I’ve killed more than you’ll ever know, and when I retired, I figured I’d be able to stop that shit. I’d be in my hometown, where the worst crimes were supposed to be petty theft and domestic disturbances.
“You were not a part of my plan. So, instead of taking up my air, you’re going to return to Saskatoon or some other county and be their migraine.”
Filch gusts smoke in Cody’s face. “And what makes you think we’re going to fucking listen?”
“Because you don’t know it, but you just confessed to murder.”
Filch’s eyes narrow. “Huh?”
“Razer isn’t here.” Cody prods the guy in the chest. “You’re wearing the Prez patch. I don’t think you let him retire to Palm Beach, so whatever you’ve done with him, you confessed to. I have no desire to handle any of this crap.
“I want my fucking domestic disturbances and petty goddamn thefts, all right? I earned that when I was in the Middle East and Russia. I don’t want your brand of bullshit in my town. So, you’re going to get the fuck out of here. You’re not going to get in my face again, and we’re going to leave it at that.”
“Razer’s fine,” Filch growls.
The snickers from the crowd tell me otherwise.
“Then why are you wearing his patch?”
“Heart attack,” someone hollers. “Couldn’t bear for his girl to be a snitch.”
In the blink of an eye, Cody goes from appearing relaxed to somehow having a gun in his hand. Before I can even squeak, the gun is being pressed into Filch’s throat and the Prez is being drawn back against Cody’s front.
Even as the other bikers take a jerky step forward, Cody’s rumbling, “Today’s my weekend. I’m with my girl. I’m going shopping in fucking Saskatoon and we’re going to have a normal date. I’m not going to break things off to deal with this stupid bullshit.
“Whatever you did, you cleared the world of a cunt. That cunt is dead. I’m sure you’re about to be the new head cunt. And you know what? That’s another police chief’s problem. It isn’t mine.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Filch snaps, his hands wafting at the bikers to make them back off.
“I’m Cody Korhonen,” he booms. “Like you didn’t know that already. But I’m the man who has enough of a death wish to shoot you in the skull. Seeing as I don’t feel like dying today, you’re going to step back and fuck off and I’m going to a crystal store because crystals make my girl fucking happy.”
With that, as smooth as silk, he lets go of Filch, who staggers to remain upright. His cheeks are bright red with embarrassment though, his eyes wild with outrage, and my heart doesn’t shift out of its new home (in my throat) because he looks mad enough to shoot Cody despite the warning.
A lifetime passes with tension making the air as thick as Nonna’s spezzatino di manzo . The bikers peer at one another, everyone barely breathing (myself included) as they wait for Filch’s response.
I sag into the seat when the new Prez takes a step back. “What about the rat?”
“The girl who’s so terrified that she hasn’t said a word yet?” Cody sneers. “She’s underage, she’s apparently lost her father, and her brother died last year?—”
Filch stills. “You knew Paulie?”
“I served with him and I watched him fucking die?—”
For whatever reason, that has the bikers glancing at one another. His declaration triggers a rush of murmurs but only one calls out, “You saw his plane crash?”
The voice tweaks my musician’s ear—there’s something… odd about it. What the hell is it?
“Every fucking night, I watch it on repeat.”
That same strange voice rasps, “You’re Cody?”
“Didn’t I just say that?” Cody sets his jaw. “Now, he hated his old man as much as you did, but he loved his sister. There’s no way in hell that I’m letting you get to her. I have a duty?—”
Filch raises a hand. “You keep her out of our business, we’ll leave her alone.”
“What?” For the first time, Cody sounds surprised.
“Paulie was...” Filch breaks off.
“Paulie was supposed to take over for Razer.” It’s that voice from amid the crowd again. “We weren’t supposed to remain on this path. We were supposed to...”
“Some of us lost a brother that day. Dana lost her man.”
“You’re Dana?” Cody blurts, his hands fisting at his sides.
A woman steps out from the mass of leather-clad bikers and she’s absolutely stunning. Like Geena Davis had a brunette baby with Sandra Bullock and then Charlie Hunnam got involved to make her all SOA. “H-He talked about me?”
One of the bikers tugs her under their arm into a consoling embrace.
“Both Paulie and Ricky did. All the damn time. They were—” I notice Cody’s shoulders sink, but my mind’s wrapped around the ‘they.’ I figured Paulie was gay but… “He was excited about coming back to you. He wanted to come back to you.”
Dana turns her face away, but not before I see tear tracks rolling down her cheeks.
Filch, his jaw working, steps up to Cody. “I don’t appreciate being ordered around by pigs, enjoy it even less when they shove a fucking gun in my throat, but Paulie liked you.
“Of course, he didn’t know you were about to stink of pork rinds, but for him, we’ll leave Amy alone.” His finger prods Cody’s chest. “Make sure she doesn’t find her way back to us.”
“Where is Razer?” Cody repeats, but his cell starts ringing, which earns a bunch of chuckles as the bikers step back and away.
“Somewhere easy to find,” Filch promises, but as the majority of the bikers light it out of the clearing, he points a finger at me. “She can keep her mouth shut too, I take it?”
“She’s with me.”
“She’d better be.” He strides over to his bike, and as he settles on the seat then kicks the stand up, he rumbles, “I’d hate for what happened to Razer to happen to her.”
Cody storms forward at the threat, but Filch’s already roaring off into the distance.
When his cell continues ringing, he ignores it because the only biker remaining is Dana. Somehow, how alone she is is all the more poignant, knowing what I do now.
Her broken heart in her eyes, she rasps, “They really talked about me?”
“Yeah.”
“Where I’m from, you don’t always know if what a man says is what a man means.”
“You know Paulie was different. Ricky, too.”
“His father was still Razer.” She licks her lips. “I loved them both.”
“They loved you. I know Ricky told you, but dipshit didn’t. I got sick of hearing about how perfect your eyes were. Told him that he should be telling you that, not me, but he...”
“That was Paulie. When we lost Ricky, I didn’t think things could get much worse.” Her throat bobs. “Then, Paulie died too.”
“I’m so sorry, Dana.”
“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.” She swipes at her eyes. “Filch is only a temporary Prez. There’s going to be a struggle for the top. What he promised, another Prez might not honor.”
Cody shrugs. “Your weed on my ranch was destroyed. We’re going to fuck with your bar, whether it’s the liquor license or on a fire safety charge. There’s no reason for the MC to darken the town’s doors anymore.”
“Maybe not, butno one ever said that MCs made any sense.”
“Paulie would have wanted more for you.”
“Then he shouldn’t have died and left me to fend for myself.”
Heart in my mouth, I watch as they nod at one another, a respect that’s founded in men they both cared for, and then she takes off too, dust kicking up around her as she leaves us alone.
At that, I push the door open and jump down from Everest then round the front of the truck to hurl myself at him. “OH MY GOD!” I scream, holding him tight. “You did not do that!”
One arm around me, he growls, “Remind me to spank you later for your complete inability to shut your trap?”
“Spank away! But fuck, don’t get in murderery people’s faces! What were you thinking? And why was it so damn hot?”
“Murderery?” His raspy chuckle gets cut off by his phone when it rings again. “Goddammit. What do they want now?” His arm’s still curved around me, but he picks it up and snarls, “What?”
His sigh is clue enough that it’s work.
As I peer into his eyes, I can see the ice is melting.
And I’m glad.
He might be ‘Dirty Harry’ hot, but I don’t want to have to see that shift in him.
“It’s my afternoon off, Marty, and you know what? The RCMP were so quick to take over this bullshit, then they can have this case too,” he jeers. “You got your wish though, huh? Ready to go back to dealing with kittens in trees?”
I tug on his sweater. “What’s going on?”
“Razer was found outside the station.”
From the tick in his jaw, I don’t think he was delivered in a gift box…
“Dead?”
“Yeah.”
“How did they even get... Man, they are dumber than a bag of rocks.”
“Not that dumb. The CCTV in a half-mile radius was knocked out. One second, he’s not there. Two minutes later, he is.”
My brows lift. “That means they have a jammer.”
“They were clever enough to use it.”
“Let’s not argue. Those guys were clearly not of the same caliber as the MC Zee’s boss represents.”
“Are we seriously talking about the quality of MC bikers you’ve come across in your life?”
“Bet your ass we are.” I sniff. “Now, I’m a proud Canadian. They let me down. I can say that we do hockey better, that our chips are far superior, but America has us beat on MCs.”
“You know what? I’m not going to complain about that.”
“Paulie and Ricky… I thought they were gay.”
“You’re nosy.”
“Maybe. But still. Dana was with the pair of them?”
“Yeah. We were pretty sure that Paulie and Ricky were gay too. Then, one time they’re back from deployment and Paulie took Ricky home with him. Next thing we knew, they’re both swooning over this Dana chick.”
“Can’t blame them. She’s gorgeous.”
He blows out a breath. “Ricky said he was going to marry her. Paulie wasn’t like that. His upbringing, you know? He preferred things informal. But Ricky didn’t. He’d talk about his plans for the future. Paulie would just roll his eyes, but I knew he was listening. I knew he wanted it too.”
“That’s really sad.”
“I’m so fucking sick of sad.”
I cup his cheek. “Don’t blame you.”
His forehead tips onto mine. “I miss them.”
My thumb strokes along his jawline. “You could talk to Dana?”
“I doubt it.” Still, the suggestion has him snorting. “You have the worst ideas.”
I shoot him a half-smile. “It’s a gift.”
“It’s something.”
“You sure you don’t have to go into the station?”
“Hell, no. If Reilly wants to be busy so bad, he can have them. Anyway,” he reasons, expression clearing as he makes a distinct effort to shrug off what just happened. “We have crystals to buy, and then I’m taking you to a hotel where I’m going to spank your sweet, sweet ass.”
“I stayed in the truck!”
“And still managed to antagonize an MC!”
“Never let it be said you don’t know how to start off a date in style.”
He winces. “I’m sorry?—”
“Don’t be.” I purse my lips. “Did you know they make crystal dildos?”
Snickering, he draws me around to the passenger side, where he hoists me back into the truck. “If you want one, we can get one. Two. Hell, four. I’m all about allies.”
“Allies?”
“Sex toys are my friends if they get you to cream your panties. What’s to complain about?”
“I like the way you think.” I bat my lashes at him. “They’re expensive.”
“I think I can afford to keep you stocked up with pretty dildos.”
I cup his chin. “I wouldn’t mind if you couldn’t.”
His hand covers mine. “And that’s why I love you.”
My eyes bug. “You do?”
“You already knew that.”
“You never said it like that. That was totally blasé. As if it were a fait accompli .”
“I’m saying it now because it is a fait accompli . You are my girl, Tee.”
“I like hearing you call me that.”
“How do you feel about going to the crystal store after?”
“Do you really need me to answer that? I’m more than fine with baptizing your truck again.”
His grin is like the spark of a fire as it shifts from embers into an outright blaze.
Give me that over ice cold any day of the week.