2. Sammy
CHAPTER 2
SAMMY
My stomach rolled while my pulse skyrocketed. I almost dropped the pen and order pad before I pulled myself together. Looking at Juice was like coming face to face with a ghost.
He pushed his chair back and stood. Then he reached out like he wanted to give me a hug but thought better of it. His arms hung in the air, suspended for an awkward moment before he let them drop back to his sides.
“You’re the last person I expected to see here.” His lips curved up into a real smile—the one he used to save just for me. “I thought you’d be off changing the world somewhere. What are you doing back in Silver Creek?”
Back in Silver Creek… I swallowed the bitter taste of regret. There was no way I’d tell him I’d never left.
“My mom’s not doing very well. I’ve been running the cafe for her.” That’s all he needed to know… all he deserved to know .
His forehead creased with concern. “Is she okay?”
“We’re doing the best we can.” At least I could be honest about that. We were doing the best we could, even if it seemed like we’d never get ahead.
“Is there anything I can?—”
“No.” Despite trying to keep my voice steady and even, my tone was strained. “She’ll be alright. How about you? Were you just passing through town?” Though we’d once been friends—best friends—I hadn’t heard from him in five long years. He’d disappeared off the face of the earth, leaving me with nothing but a hole in my heart and a lame-ass note. Oh, and a baby in my belly that he’d never know about.
“I had a meeting up in Cutgrass and was on my way back to Mustang Mountain.” He nudged his chin toward the front door. “Got caught in the rain on my bike and decided to grab something to eat while I wait out the storm. Your mom always did make the best pies.”
There was no need to extend the conversation. The sooner I got him out of the cafe and on his way, the less likely I’d be to slip up and tell him about the son we shared. It’s not like I hadn’t tried in the past. I’d spent the first two years of Oliver’s life trying to track Juice down. He obviously hadn’t wanted to be found. More importantly, he’d never wanted to be a father. He’d made that crystal clear all those years ago, and I’d never forgotten.
“We don’t have time to make pie from scratch anymore. I’ve got lemon meringue or apple in the cooler.” There were a lot of things I didn’t have time for, like a life outside of running the cafe, taking care of my mom, and being a single mother to a preschooler. Not that I’d share any of that with him.
He cocked his head and studied me. He’d always been able to read me. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”
Before I could blow him off, the front door opened, and a couple rushed in out of the rain. The guy held his jacket over both of their heads in an attempt to stay dry. Their laughter sounded out of place with all the tension hanging in the air.
“Feel free to sit anywhere. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” I hoped Juice would get on with his order so I could be on my way. “Did you decide on the pie?”
He bit down on his lip. “I’ll take the daily special with a cup of coffee. No pie tonight.”
“You got it.” I left him standing by the table, though I could feel his eyes follow me as I made my way across the room.
The couple had picked a booth near the windows up front. I grabbed a handful of napkins as I passed the counter and slid them onto the table.
“Thank you.” The woman picked up a napkin and dabbed at her cheeks.
“Welcome to Hit the Bull’s Pie. Can I get you something to drink?” I studied the two of them while I waited for them to place their drink order. Neither one looked familiar. None of our regular customers would be out in a storm like this.
“Pretty slow tonight, huh?” The guy rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward.
I bit back the urge to tell him it was pretty slow every night. Instead, I offered a smile. “Not a lot of folks are brave enough to get out in this kind of storm.”
“That’s what I tried to tell him,” the woman said. “But he’s gotta be the big man.”
“Cut it, LouAnn.” The look he gave her could have cut through a brick wall. She seemed to shrink against the back of the booth.
“If you need more time, I can come back in a few minutes.” I’d had customers like him before. Guys who viewed their girlfriends like property and thought they could treat people like dirt.
“I’ll have coffee, and you can just bring her a glass of water.” His lip curled into a nasty grin. “She doesn’t deserve anything more than that.”
LouAnn ran her hand up his arm. “I didn’t mean anything by that, baby.”
“I’ll be back with your drinks in a few minutes.” I turned to go, my gaze drifting over to Juice as I made my way back to the kitchen. Mom and I had been running the place with a skeleton crew to try to keep expenses down. Though our cook, Jeremiah, had been working at the cafe for years, he didn’t have the strength to stand up to someone like the asshole out front. As much as I hated it, knowing Juice was nearby in case things got out of hand made me feel a little safer.
While Jeremiah got to work on Juice’s order, I delivered the drinks. I dropped off the coffee and water with the couple and took their food order, then stopped by Juice’s table.
“Everything okay with those two?” he asked .
“I guess. Some women will tolerate anything as long as they don’t have to be alone. I bet he’s one of those bikers who treats women like shit.” I shook my head. It was no secret to Juice that my dad had been one of those guys. When my mom got pregnant with me, he wasn’t interested in settling down, so he left her.
“Not all bikers are like that.” Juice’s brows knit together.
“And how would you know?” I crossed my arms over my chest, eager to get back to the kitchen. When he didn’t respond right away, I realized my mistake. “Oh my gosh. You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
Juice put his hands out, palms forward. “I’m one of the good guys, Sammy.”
“There’s no such thing.” I retreated to the kitchen and begged Jeremiah to deliver Juice’s food to his table. I didn’t want to see him again. Not tonight. Not ever. Knowing what he did about my past, how could he join an MC? Obviously, time had changed him. And it was clearer than ever that I couldn’t tell him about our son.
Jeremiah came back to the kitchen. “Are you going to serve the couple at table four, or do you want me to do it, sweetheart?”
“I’m sorry. Just give me a minute.” I splashed some water on my cheeks and sucked in a few deep breaths.
By the time Jeremiah plated the order, I’d pulled myself together enough to leave the kitchen. Juice wasn’t at his table. A sense of relief coursed through me. He was gone, and my secret was safe. I couldn’t wait to get home and set eyes on my son .
But first, I needed to get the last two customers out of the cafe. I set the plates down on the table. “Here you go. Can I get you anything else right away?”
The woman immediately reached for a fry. The guy grabbed her hand and shook it until the fry flew onto the floor. “You’ll eat when I say you can eat.”
“Stop it. You’re hurting me.”
I didn’t want to get involved, but I couldn’t stand by and do nothing while he treated her like that. As calmly as I could, I walked back to the office and picked up the baseball bat I kept behind the door. Then I grabbed my phone and dialed the sheriff’s department. The operator told me she’d send someone as soon as she could, but it might be awhile since they were stretched a little thin because of the storm. That was another problem with this shitty town—there was no one available to help when times got rough.
Glass shattered out front, and my grip on the bat tightened. I poked my head through the doorway leading out of the kitchen. The guy pushed the woman down to her knees on the floor and told her to pick up every shard of glass.
“Sammy, what are you doing?” Jeremiah reached for me as I left the safety of the kitchen. His fingers grazed my arm, but it was too late.
I lifted the bat and rested it on my shoulder like I was stepping up to the plate instead of about to take a swing at a man twice my size. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
He looked at me and laughed. Then his expression changed. His eyes went wide, and he scrambled out of the booth. Juice passed me and grabbed the guy by his collar.
“First, I want you to apologize to LouAnn for the way you’ve been treating her.” Juice tightened his fist in the guy’s long greasy hair.
“I’m s-s-s-sorry.”
Juice glanced over at me. “Next, I want you to tell my friend you’re sorry for making a mess.”
The guy’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry I made a mess.”
“That’s better. Now get your miserable ass out of here and don’t come back.” Juice dragged him toward the front door and tossed him out into the rain.
The guy stood and pointed at Juice, then at me. “You’re the ones who are going to be sorry.”
LouAnn grabbed his jacket and rushed out after him.
“What the hell was that?” I turned on Juice. “Now I’m going to have an asshole biker after me.”
“You think he was going to just sit there while you bashed in his brain with a baseball bat?” Juice pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to follow him and figure out who he’s with. I’ll fix this, Sammy, I promise.”
“Just go.” My hands shook, so I grabbed the bat even tighter. “And please, don’t come back.”
His eyes took on a wounded look before he turned and headed into the rain. I caught a glimpse of the Mustang Mountain Riders logo stretched across the back of his leather jacket.
One of the good guys, my ass.