Chapter Sixteen
I Told Them Everything
Ginger
“The evites have all gone out.” With a grim sort of resolution, I closed up my laptop sitting on Vixen’s Den back counter, and went to pull up the shades to welcome in the new morning light. The dazzling deep blue of the lightening sky told me it was going to be another beautiful fall day in the Windy City. “This birthday-slash-costume party is freaking happening this Saturday, on my birthday, whether I’m ready for it or not. And oh my God, I am so not ready. Not only do I not have any sort of costume ready, I’m not even sure where the party is going to take place.”
At the cracked and now-emptied out glass counter, Roxie glanced up from her Pinterest search of Halloween party ideas. “Didn’t the location have to go on the evites?”
“I put Vixen’s Den’s address as the location, but I don’t know if I’m feeling that. At the moment it’s not looking very party-ready in here.”
We both looked around the mostly empty front room, now awash in the pale morning sunlight. Vixen’s Den was closed until further notice. I told myself that was a good thing, because most of our inventory was now in the trash, along with two broken racks, a broken mirror, several dildos that had fallen out of their packaging, and one hopelessly broken chair. If I didn’t know Tyr was footing the bill to put things right, I would be a hysterical mess.
Tyr .
I stifled a soft sigh as I looked to the spot on the fleur-de-lis patterned pink and cream rug where we’d landed after the chair had broken. Was it weird that I wanted to have that spot enshrined? Or bronzed, at the very least. Every time I thought about how he’d felt inside me, my girlie parts tingled in the most distracting way, so I tried instead to concentrate on what was left of my inventory.
After Tyr and I pulled ourselves off the floor, we’d spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening cleaning out the front room and trying to put things right. Of course, that was easier said than done, and thanks to blood spray—which happened in a fist fight as violent as Tyr’s and Red Flag’s—little droplets got flung pretty much everywhere. I tossed out most of the clothes the two men had rolled around on, though Tyr insisted I keep a couple items for myself—two bustiers in purple and black with matching thongs, and a crimson see-through babydoll with matching crotchless panties.
After we’d closed up shop and headed to my place, I wore the babydoll set while gently icing his eye and cheek, then fixed him a simple dinner of soup and sandwiches. The babydoll was now in shreds in the trash, and I had orders to replace it in every color of the rainbow.
I could do that.
“Now that I think about it, having the party here at the Den is the best possible idea in the world,” I decided, trying to see the silver lining when I looked at the basically empty room. It was imperative I kept life upbeat for Roxie, who still seemed shell-shocked after yesterday’s events. I’d been worried about that. Yesterday had been no big deal for me, because I was used to brawlers like Tyr and Red Flag. Whether right or wrong, violence was their first language. It was how they got things done. But Roxie came from the civilian world, not the biker world. She’d looked traumatized, so I’d come in super-early to make coffee, set out her favorite French vanilla creamer along with a box of croissants—her preferred breakfast—and turned on her favorite morning talk show on the TV mounted on the wall by the fitting rooms. If I could be upbeat and surround her with as much “normal” as possible, maybe she’d be okay. “We can do whatever we want with this space, right? Just think how much fun we’re going to have in here, Rox. We can set it up so perfectly it’ll look like it belongs on the cover of a magazine.”
“You have to admit, there’s definitely more room for a party now that almost all the inventory, racks and furniture are currently in the dumpster out back.”
I winced. So much for upbeat and normal. “Roxie—”
“I’m just so sorry, Ginger,” she burst out, looking near tears.
Um… what? “Sorry for what?”
She flung her arms out wide. “It was all my fault Red Flag was here in the first place! I was the one who introduced you to Red. I did that because I thought he was hot, and you’re my best friend, and I want you to be happy like Carlo and me.”
Aw . “That’s so sweet of you.”
“I had visions of us going out on double dates, and the guys becoming besties like us, and maybe even doing one of those couple getaways like they do in all those Hallmark Christmas movies, where they get snowed in and everything is all about hot cocoa and mistletoe kisses.”
Oh my God, I adored Roxie so much. “That sounds great, babe.”
“Right? But the one thing I never envisioned was everything turning to shit in one insanely violent moment, which led to the ultimate destruction of the shop. You must hate the sight of me.”
“Oh my gosh, no.” With a sound of sympathy, I hustled around the cracked-glass counter to where she stood and gave her the biggest hug, squeezing her all the tighter when I felt her shaking. Yep. Definitely traumatized. “Listen to me, Roxie, it’s not that bad. Okay? Not everything fell to shit, and the shop wasn’t destroyed.” The TV blared tinny laughter at that point, and I gave it a dirty look before pulling away to smile at my best friend. “Let’s try to look at this positively, yeah? Vixen’s Den has been getting stale for a while now, so this empty room… it’s not really an empty room. It’s an awesome opportunity to totally change things up. We’re talking a new paint job here, with maybe some kind of mural that knocks the proverbial socks off the average customer who walks in. And, maybe we could get some Grecian columns outlining a larger dance floor area. Maybe we can have some touchscreen catalogues embedded in the walls, with some sexy Lolita AI trying on every outfit we have in stock to set the mood. I mean, the only limit here is our imagination, since Tyr volunteered to foot the bill for renovations.” Heaven knew he could afford it. Whether legit or not-so-legit, the man knew how to make a buck.
“See, now that’s the only thing I can blame you for—Tyr.” Roxie’s fine brows pulled together as she glared at me accusingly. “I thought we were friends, Ginger.”
I blinked, shocked. “We are.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me that Tyr—your sworn enemy—is also our landlord? I know how carefully he guards you because of how fucked up your shared past is, and I get that. I mean, I guess I get that,” she added dubiously. “But this really complicates things.”
Tell me about it . “In what way?”
“He’s overly protective of you. I’ve always known that, but now I find out he’s our landlord . I’m not sure I would have welcomed Red Flag back in here if I’d known Tyr owned the damn place.”
“Well—”
“And didn’t you once tell me that Blue Horizons, LLC is also the company that owns your loft? That must mean he’s your landlord there too, right?”
I looked for a way to not answer and couldn’t find one. “Right.”
She stared at me. “Why didn’t you tell me? The man has you basically surrounded better than Fort Knox, so why wouldn’t you tell me anything about that? I had no clue!”
“Neither did I!”
“I find that hard to believe, Ginger. I mean, he’s literally everywhere in your life. And you honestly expect me to believe you didn’t know?”
Now I felt like an idiot. “I swear I didn’t know.”
“Then how did you find out?”
“He told me while…”
“Yes? I’m waiting.”
You know what, fuck it . “He told me while we were having sex for the first time the other night right there on my dining room table.” There. The cat was out of the bag, and there was nothing I could do about it. If Hades ever got his hands on Roxie, he’d crack her like a thin-shelled walnut to get to that secret, but the fact was she was already figuring it out all on her own.
I’m sorry, Roxie.
My best friend stared at me a shocked moment before she threw her arms around me. “Oh, Ginger, this is amazing!”
“Really?” I returned the hug, baffled, before backing away to search her face. “I don’t know if I’d call it that. It’s not like Tyr and I figured out how to bring about world peace. Hell, we can’t even figure out how to bring peace to our own backyard. All we did was just, y’know… have sex.”
“First off, you never have sex of any kind, which is a crime against all things good and wonderful,” she began, and when she started ticking points off her fingers I knew things were serious. “Secondly, I’ve never bought all that nonsense about the two of you hating each other. I know the stories,” she added when I opened my mouth. “I get how damaged your relationship is, I swear. But that damage? Girl, it was never caused by either of you. You two never once tried to hurt each other, at least not in my presence, which means everything between you is both fixable and forgivable. Thirdly—”
“Wow, there’s a thirdly? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a thirdly.”
“Hush. Thirdly , the volatility between you and Tyr has always been so intense it could light up a small city, so I can only imagine what it’s like when you two are lighting up the sheets—or in this case, the dining room table. By the way, remind me to never eat on that surface again.”
“Very funny.”
“And lastly—”
“Finally, we got to a lastly?”
“Yes. Lastly, there’s that unbelievably sus ownership of Blue Horizons, LLC.”
“I’m actually glad you mentioned that,” I admitted, lowering my voice and leaning in confidentially, which was probably stupid because there was no one else around. “It’s weird, right, Tyr owning every place that means something to me? It’s not just me thinking that it’s weird?”
“Honey, it is off-the-charts weird. In fact, it leaves weird behind and dives headfirst into crazy, but you know something? I think it’s the best kind of crazy, considering where you both come from, and I can’t wait for you to have that kind of crazy in your life.”
I tried not to gape at her. “I hate to say it, Roxie, but you’ve lost me. What are you talking about?”
“Can’t you see it? No, I guess you can’t,” she lamented, answering her own question with a sad little sigh. “Okay, let me try to explain this to you. Tyr has been in your life as one thing for so long, you can’t see that he’s nothing like what you’ve been programmed to believe.”
That wasn’t completely true. “Rox—”
“Ginger, please listen to me, okay? Unless I miss my guess, Tyr Colgrave is in a forever kind of love with you that’ll outlast the stars in the sky,” she announced, and the words hit me so deeply it obliterated every thought I had in my head. “Think about it. When your mom died, Tyr sheltered you for over a year. In that time, not only was he getting ready to start his own Gravediggers chapter and buying up all the property inside that compound across the street, he was also starting up Blue Horizons, LLC. He did it as a front so neither you nor that hideous step-monster of yours would know Tyr was giving you a base of operations by making this place into Vixen’s Den. Tyr then did the same thing with the loft, knowing you needed a place far away from him. You needed to be on your own, out of his house and away from the biker world, so you could start the healing process. Once you healed, maybe then you could find the strength to sort through all the shit Hades tried to twist your life into.”
“I… don’t think all this is nearly as deep as you’re making it,” I managed faintly, while her words crowded into my head. “I mean, Tyr was barely twenty-one at the time when the idea of moving my online business into a brick-and-mortar store began to take shape.”
“Out of curiosity, whose idea was that? Yours?”
“No.” I had to smile, if wryly. “It was Tyr’s.”
“And to be clear, it was Tyr who found this property?”
“Yeah.” Which had made sense at the time, even when he’d straight-up lied to my face about the rumors of him owning the small strip mall. The property had been across the street from what would become his home base, so I never questioned it further. “It worked out so well. The Gravediggers have dozens of strip clubs sprinkled throughout Chicagoland, and all their exotic dancers were sent here to get their working clothes. Then their friends heard about us, and they became regular customers too, and then we just sort of rippled out from there until we could hardly keep the shelves stocked. But it was Tyr who got things started.”
Roxie nodded as if I’d said something profound. “And didn’t you once tell me that the loft was meant to be yours because it seemed like it was tailor-made for you?”
“Yeah, I did. And again, Tyr was the one who found the property for me. He walked me through it, with my list of personal must-haves for an apartment right there in his hand, and everywhere I looked all I could see was my dream place. I was barely speaking to him at the time—I still blamed him for all the shit Hades put me through—but I do remember thanking him profusely for finding my idea of heaven. That loft seemed perfect for me.”
“It was perfect for you, because Tyr prepared it exactly to your specifications, just like he’s always done here at Vixen’s Den.” Roxie’s eyes shimmered with emotion that made my own chest tighten. “Wow, Ginger. I think that man loves you like I’ve always secretly dreamed of being loved. I’m even a little jealous.”
I blinked, surprised. “I thought you were happy with Carlo.”
“Oh, I am. And we do love each other. It’s a comfortable, companionable love I never thought I’d have. But Tyr… I might be wrong, honey, but I think he loves you obsessively. Insanely. With an absolute, single-minded madness that will never die. Which can be beautiful, of course. But if you don’t want it, you might be in a lot of danger.”
The last thing I felt was danger when I was with Tyr. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, eventually he’s going to want you to love him back. So the question is, do you?”
“Do I love Tyr?” I heard the words come out of my mouth, but I couldn’t make any real sense of them. Love? What even was that? “What do I know about love? My own father wanted nothing to do with me. My mother chose heroin every fucking time over me, even when I nearly died and she should have gotten my broken body to a hospital. I thought I may have loved Jake Anderton, but the main thing that attracted me to him was that he was nothing like anything in the biker world, and that’s not love. So… I don’t know. What is love to you, Roxie?”
“Goddamn Hades for breaking you so badly you’d even have to ask such a thing,” Roxie murmured as if to herself before she gripped my hands in both of hers. “Honey, it’s completely irrelevant what I think love is. It’s your view that matters now.”
“Well, then, I’m screwed.”
“Don’t give up yet,” she chided, giving my fingers a squeeze. “Let’s start with something easy. Do you want to be in a relationship that makes you feel like you’re a part of something far greater than just yourself? To belong to someone, and know without any doubt that they’re happy to belong to you?”
The image of Tyr flashed before my eyes. “Anyone would want something like that.”
“Okay, good. Next question, and it’s a little harder.”
“Ugh.”
“Be brave, I know you can do this. Do you feel totally fine and not anxious at all when you go for hours or days without seeing Tyr? Or do minutes feel like hours when you’re separated, and do you feel an overwhelming need to reach for the phone just so you can make sure he’s okay?”
Holy crap . “Are you a mind reader?”
“Why do you say that?”
“I was just waiting for eight o’clock to roll around so I could call him and he wouldn’t think I was completely insane for calling so early. I don’t even know why I want to call him, but I do. It’s like… I don’t know. It feels like I’m not complete when he’s not where I can see or hear him. Is that weird?”
“It’s perfect.” Roxie beamed at me. “Last and most important question. Ready?”
“Hit me, girlie.”
“Close your eyes and imagine your life one year from now. What do you see?”
Dutifully I closed my eyes and tried to piece together a reasonable picture of what my life should be like. I played this game every now and again and always enjoyed it. But instead of what I usually saw for myself—expanding my shop with a full line of my own designs of sexy lingerie and kickass footwear—the first thing that hit my mind’s eye was a crib.
“Or cribs,” I mumbled absently, picturing it. “My maternal grandmother was a triplet on my mom’s side. Audrey was a twin, but her mother miscarried one of the fetuses while still carrying my mother to term. But since I was a single birth, maybe that genetic string’s been officially broken.”
“Wait, Ginger. What? Snap out of it. What ?”
“Oh.” My eyes popped open, and I stared at my clearly alarmed friend. “Right, I probably forgot to mention that. Tyr’s obsessed with knocking me up. We’ve never taken precautions. Like, never . And according to my trusty calendar, this upcoming week is my most fertile time.”
I heard her swallow. “Does Tyr know that?”
“Oh, yes. Big-time, yes. Any second now he’s probably going to burst in here and insist I receive my daily injection of his high-powered baby batter.”
“Holy cow.”
I could only nod at her shock. I was right there with her. “So, if you’re asking me what I envision my life to be a year from now, it’s kinda possible that I’ll be a new mother.” Just saying it out loud for the first time made something swoop in my belly.
“Wow,” my friend said, looking like she was holding her breath. “Are you okay with that?”
“I am.” The moment I said it, my internal world and all its unsettled dithering abruptly calmed, and in its place came a sweet and soul-deep peace. “I want Tyr’s baby, so if it happens, it happens. No matter what, I’ll be happy with the outcome.”
“And Tyr? Will you be happy with Tyr?”
“God, yes. I’m so happy whenever I’m with him, because I…”
Roxie’s hands squeezed mine so tightly it hurt. “Because you… what?”
“Because…” It was strange, how my throat kept trying to close up, as if I were scared of answering. But this was too important. I couldn’t afford to be afraid of myself. “Because I’m in love with Tyr Colgrave.”
“I’m so happy for you.” A whoop burst from my friend before she hugged me again, just as a strident alert sounded from the television.
“…interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to give you a live update on what appears to be some sort of shoot-out or mass-shooting event over on the west side of town, in the Elk Grove Village area west of O’Hare Airport. Authorities have locked O’Hare down out of an abundance of caution.”
I froze, staring at the TV. Elk Grove Village. That was Chicago Gravediggers territory, and where Audrey and I lived throughout my growing-up years. It wasn’t a great place as neighborhoods went, mainly industrial parks and warehouses, and an unofficial red-light district along Route 83 where all the truck stops were. Sadly it was no surprise that there would be a shooting around—
My brain ground to a halt when the neon sign for Rooster Juice flashed across the screen.
Oh, boy.
Rooster Juice.
Jesus…
Rooster Juice had been Odin’s bar, built directly in front of the Chicago Gravediggers clubhouse. If you didn’t know the back way in, going through that bar was the only way to get into the Chicago Gravedigger clubhouse. Just like Tyr loved Ride Or Die Choppers, Odin had loved that stupid bar. Back in the day before I declared verbal war on my mother, Audrey had often mentioned that given another life, Odin probably would have been content to simply be a barkeep, and leave the dog-eat-dog ruthlessness of being at the top of the biker world behind.
Why were they focusing on Rooster Juice so early in the morning? They weren’t open at this time of day. There couldn’t have been a shooting, unless…
“Ginger?” Gently my friend touched my arm. “What is it? You look—”
“Please, Rox, let me hear this.”
“According to police on-scene, neighbors in the area heard shots ringing out just before dawn, and it seemed to go off and on sporadically for the next half hour to forty-five minutes. There are conflicting reports as to when the police were called in and who called them in. Only one thing seems certain. When the police finally did arrive, it appears that most of the shooting—and indeed, the killing—was done.”
“My God,” Roxie whispered while my blood ran cold. “How can something like that happen? It sounds like some kind of Old West shootout at the OK Corral.” She stopped talking when the pictures on the TV showed three gurneys being wheeled out to ambulances, with all three bodies shrouded in white sheets. “Oh, no, that looks bad. What the hell is this city coming to?”
Fear gripped me so hard I could feel my throat closing. Everyone who lived on the darker side of Chicago knew Elk Grove Village meant the Chicago Gravediggers. No one who enjoyed breathing would ever cross them, unless they were at war with them.
Tyr.
Frantically I snatched my phone out of my back pocket just as I heard a rattle of keys at the door. My alarmed gaze slammed into Tyr, who appeared whole and healthy and completely normal, and not in any way splattered in blood, like he’d just come from the world’s most gruesome shootout.
Safe. He was safe.
Thank God.
“’Morning, ladies.” Outwardly calm, Tyr’s whiskey-gold gaze flicked from my expression to the TV, and I could swear I glimpsed a grim sort of satisfaction in his eyes before he showed off a large cardboard box that emanated scents of warm, spicy goodness. “I come bearing a peace-offering.”
Roxie’s eyes narrowed on the box. “Does that say Casa La Fonda?”
“Yep. I’ve been standing in line for almost an hour for the city’s best breakfast tacos, because when I apologize, I do it with everything I’ve got. And what I’ve got is egg, cheese and bacon, chorizo and egg, bean and cheese, and migas, all with your choice of salsas, as well as sour cream and guac. Will any of that get me out of trouble? Or at the very least, a cup of coffee?”
“You had me at breakfast tacos, but I can’t speak for Ginger.” Moving to take the precious box of all things yummy out of his hands, Roxie gave me a wink before scooting off toward the breakroom. “Unfortunately I need to brew a fresh pot of coffee, Tyr, so why don’t you and Ginger chat out here while I go and take care of that? Take your time, you two.”
“Let me guess,” he drawled the moment Roxie shut the door behind her. “You told Roxie about us.”
“She figured it out, but never mind that now.” My voice was barely a whisper—stupid fear response—as I dragged him closer to the TV. I turned up the volume on the off-chance that Roxie, or anyone else, might be listening in. “Local news just reported that there was some kind of shootout near Rooster Juice. Was that… you?”
“Snap, when we left your place and went our separate ways this morning, I went straight to Casa La Fonda. I wanted to surprise you with some of your favorite tacos.”
I breathed easier. “So it wasn’t you.”
“No. What that is,” he added, tilting his head toward the TV, “is a chicken finally coming home to roost.”
“What?”
“You know better than anyone that Hades and his crew break people for fun, and they never think there’s going to be any consequences. All I did was remind those cocksuckers how dangerous consequences can be.”
He said it with such dark pleasure I shivered. “What did you do?”
“Me? Nothing. I was with you all night. Then, early this morning when we kissed each other goodbye in front of your security cameras, I decided to spend an insane amount of time getting my woman breakfast tacos. I stood in line along with what seemed like half of my fellow Chicagoans, jonesing for some spicy breakfast taco goodness. My personal favorite’s the chorizo and egg, so it was worth the wait.”
“Tyr—”
“I gave Hades back the very spy he sent our way, that’s all. Unfortunately for the Chicago Gravediggers, this particular spy was already so damn broken all she could think about was killing everything that moved. Come to think of it, she kind of reminded me of you.”
“Excuse me?” When had I ever pulled off a mass murder spree?
He grinned down at me. “Do you remember when you were a kid, and you looked around and decided emulating gods was the only way to survive being around us? I suspect this little psycho looked around her world through her broken lens of abuse, and decided emulating killers was the only way that she could survive. Killing became her one and only reason for living.”
Oh, that poor girl . “You have no idea how completely I understand that.”
“I do know, Snap. But you survived in a way she didn’t. Whatever good there was in her got murdered a long time ago. I just gave back to Hades whatever it was that remained.”
A chill moved through me as I glanced at the TV screen, now filled with a sea of flashing lights. “How did giving her back to Hades turn into a bloodbath?”
“I made sure she had incentive to do what she desperately wanted to do, which was to kill everyone who hurt her.”
I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to know… “How do you give someone incentive to kill?”
Damn it.
“Hades wanted her dead, Snap. That’s why he sent her our way. Sending her back home after she’d failed to kill us was going to get her executed. All I wanted to do was give her a fighting chance.”
“Tyr—”
“The incentive I gave her was a note.”
“A note? Wouldn’t she just throw something like that away?”
“Hard to throw away a note that’s tattooed on your forehead.”
My breath caught.
“Once the tattoo was done, I had her dropped off on the Chicago Gravediggers’ doorstep with three things—a fully-loaded, untraceable Desert Eagle 50AE with a shit-ton of extra clips, the same knife that took Marvel out, and a mirror.”
“A mirror?”
“I wanted her to read the note so that she understood she was now in a game of kill or be killed—a game they taught her how to play. But even more than that, I needed her to understand those bastards had sent her to my door to be executed, when that wasn’t my fucking job. It was theirs… unless she found a way to execute them first. Like I said, I wanted to give that poor crazy bitch a fighting chance. What she became wasn’t her fault. Hades and his crew did that to her, so it was up to them to reap that fucked-up harvest.”
I swallowed hard. “What did the note say?”
He sighed. “I should tell you that it’s club business, and none of yours.”
“I could have been her, Tyr. I could have been her.”
“Shh, baby girl.” His arms came around me as if he understood how cold I suddenly was, and put his lips to my ear. “It said, Nice try, fuckers. I told them everything .”