Chapter 42
MAREN
I’m halfway through checking off the midmorning delivery sheet when I hear the low rumble of motorcycles approaching.
And I find myself smiling, because I’m starting to associate the sound with the man I love.
I had a false start this morning when I heard bikes, but it was Niro and Cat wanting an airboat ride.
At first I was disappointed, but I took them out myself, and I’ve never seen a human being enjoy an airboat ride as Niro did.
Honestly, it was like seeing airboats through new eyes. The guy had a million questions, most of which I could answer.
I let myself finish the line I’m on, even though my focus is gone, knowing I’m about to see Knox.
Then, I hurry out of the storeroom, along the cafe outdoor area, to the side of the building, just in time to see five bikes roll in with Knox at the head, with what looks like over thirty bikes and two vans waiting on the road.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer,” I say when the engines stop.
Sunny grins. “Awe, thanks, Maren.”
Knox scowls at him as he swings a leg over his bike, drops his bandana from over his mouth, and strides over to me to cups my cheeks and kiss me like he hasn’t seen me for a year.
“Missed your face,” Knox says as the men on bikes whoop and holler.
“I missed yours too. Are you okay?”
Knox takes my hand. “Yeah. I’m good. Made it back to the clubhouse last night. Went to see Vandal before his surgery, then headed back to the clubhouse to join everyone getting ready to leave.”
I squeeze his fingers. “I’m sure Vandal will be okay.”
Lines appear between Knox’s brows. “We’ll bring him back to us, no matter what.”
“Of course, you will.” I shield my eyes as I look at all the bikes on the road. “You off somewhere?”
A smile touches the corners of Knox’s mouth. “Let’s just say, there’re some things that are best not left sitting around here waiting to be found.” He boops the end of my nose affectionately.
“So, you won?”
“We handled it,” he says. “Trouble’s done. For you and the shop.”
A tightness I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying relaxes in my chest. I’m safe again. Thanks to this man. “Good.”
His hand shifts, pulling me close to him. “I’m not gonna be home tonight. Showing these guys from out of state their route home, taking ‘em north through Lakeland to avoid Tampa.”
I don’t need to ask why. Fewer cops and less traffic than headed up through Tampa. “That’s quite the ride.”
Knox shrugs. “About five hours’ ride. We’re gonna turn around and rest up in Gainesville for a few hours before riding back. Won’t be until the early hours of tomorrow before I get home.”
I place my hand on his cheek. “You sure you’re not too tired?”
He places his hand over mine, for a second. “Sooner I get them out of here, sooner you and I can relax. You’ll stay at the house?”
I shake my head. “I think I’ll stay here tonight.”
His expression drops into something seriously close to a sulk. “Why?”
“Because you told me you wanted me to move in.”
He stills. “Sleeping here seems like the fucking opposite of you sleeping at our home.”
I smile at that, the use of the words our home making me feel complete in ways I didn’t think were possible.
“I figured, if you’re going out of town for the night, I could start packing up. Get my stuff together so I could, you know, properly move in.”
His hand sinks around the back of my neck, grabs a fistful of hair, and he kisses me almost indecently, given our company. Even as the bike engines begin to rev and the men start to hoot and holler, Knox doesn’t slow or rush the kiss.
“I think I just got pregnant,” Sunny shouts, which brings even more laughter.
“Don’t take too long?” Knox murmurs against my lips. “We’ll move you in tomorrow.”
“Bossy,” I reply.
“Damn straight.” His nose brushes against mine. “Lock up tight. Keep your phone on you.”
“Always do.”
His gaze holds mine, for a second, like he doesn’t want to leave, and then, he steps back. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”
“Ride safe. I won’t accept anything other than you coming back to me in one piece.”
He salutes, and North chuckles. “What about me, Maren?”
I shrug. “You can come back in more than one piece if you want to, too. Given you were more than happy to leave me to those assholes in the parking lot.”
“Sorry about that,” he shouts. “But it was before the whole…well…you and Prez.”
“Understood,” I say. “Apology accepted.”
Knox climbs on his bike, then shifts his bandana back to cover his mouth and nose. And I wave until every bike is gone from view. It’s a surprise to see Jackal wave from a truck as it goes by.
Later that night, when I wake up after having a weird dream, I forget that I’m back in my own bed above the store.
I made good progress on my packing. I’d grabbed some empty storage totes from the storeroom and begun to pack up the important items to move with me. And somewhere along the way, I decided I’d turn this place into a holiday rental.
So, the sounds that weaved their way into my dreams don’t concern me, at first. The dull thud. Metal rattling.
Until I realize they are real sounds.
I lie there, for a second, caught between sleep and wakefulness beneath warm sheets, and the noises that feel out of place.
Forcing my eyes open, I breathe quietly as I scan for where the sound is coming from.
And then, it happens. Another bang coming from directly below me. My heart kicks hard in my chest. I push up onto my elbows and try to convince myself it’s nothing, that, perhaps, Knox had the prospects come back to provide cover.
But they wouldn’t be in your store.
I reach for my phone and see it’s twenty after three. My hands shake, and I try to tell myself it’s nothing. That I’m overthinking. But…
I dial Knox’s number, and he answers on the second ring. “Maren?”
“There’s someone in the store,” I whisper as I swing my legs out of the bed. “I think I can hear them moving. Did you send the prospects back?”
“I’ve got all of them in front of me,” he says, urgency in his tone. “We just got back to the clubhouse. Stay upstairs. Don’t go down there. I’m on my way.”
I creep to the living room and look out over the roof that covers the outdoor seating area. “I don’t see anyone outside,” I whisper.
There’s another bang. Louder, this time.
“We put cameras on the roads so we could see if anyone came along any of them towards us. Lock is checking them now while I get my keys.”
I hear Knox curse, a door slam, keys jingle. “Who the fuck is it?” he growls.
“You’re not gonna like it, Prez,” Lock says.
“Jesus, Maren. It’s your dad. Is there any reason for him to be there?”
I shake my head, even though he can’t see it. “No.”
“I’m on my bike,” Knox says. “Won’t be able to talk while I’m riding but stay put. You hear me? Stay in your apartment. Don’t go looking for trouble. I love you.”
“I love you too. Ride safe.”
I end the call, but as I do, I hear a loud splintering, and smoke curls up through the floorboards from the shop below.
“Oh my God,” I gasp.
The store is on fire, and I immediately think about what my father said that first day he saw Knox on the dock with me.
Men like that protect their own. So, you refused to sell to him.
What happens next? If they can’t have it, they decide you can’t have it either.
You wake up tomorrow and the store is on fire, burning around you like the death trap it is.
And then, who will you come running to? Me.
Your actions will put them in my path again. Do you want them to try to kill me too?
Has my father started this to somehow kill me and frame Knox? Does he even know I’m here? Perhaps he knows I’ve been staying at Knox’s.
What started as wisps and curls of smoke, begins to escalate until it pours in.
And I’ll be trapped up here if I don’t get out.
I run to the bedroom and grab an armful of clothes off the chair and slide my feet into my sneakers. It’s too dangerous to waste time pulling them on. Just as I reach the door and open it, I think of something.
Dropping my clothes, I run back inside and grab my grandmother’s photo album, and the painting I did of Knox and me.
When I step out onto the stairs that lead down to the parking lot, I see my father’s personal car. Even though Knox had told me he was the only person headed my way, I guess I was hoping he was wrong.
Shit.
The gun Knox gave me that’s safely tucked in my bedside table.
Why didn’t I think to grab it?
Because despite everything you know about your father, a piece of you still believed there was a chance he loved you.
My hands shake as I tug on the track pants, stumbling to get my feet through in my hurry to pull them over my sleep shorts.
The panic bubbles into sobs.
And that’s when I see the first lick of orange flames, just as my father walks out the store. He pulls the disposable gloves off his hands once he closes the door.
I stand still, frozen on the stairs.
Maybe he won’t see me, but no sooner is the thought in my head than he looks up at the stairs with a smug grin on his face and spots me. The grin slips in shock.
For a second, my brain refuses to make sense of it all. My father is setting fire to the bait shop.
My father.
Not some evil villain or warlord.
My own flesh and blood.
“Dad.” The word slips out before I can stop it.
He jerks violently, then… “Maren, quick. I was driving by and saw the store was on fire. We need to get you out of here. I called for emergency backup already.”
A window shatters under the intensity of the heat behind my father, and I can’t hold back the scream that escapes.
Smoke billows out, and fire starts to lick up the wooden-clad building.
It can’t spread to the new building, given the construction material, but the loss of this one would be irreplaceable.
The stairs are the only thing separating us, but the smoke is choking me, and the flames are inching towards me.
I try to squint down the road, for any sign of light from Knox’s bike.
But I don’t see it.