Chapter 20
TWENTY
KYRA
“Here you go,” Theresa says without an ounce of congeniality as she slides my plate onto the table. “One salmon salad, dressing on the side, and no tomato.”
“Thank you.” I sit patiently while she dumps the napkin-wrapped cutlery beside the dish and then turns on her heel.
I’ve come here for lunch most days since Jinx brought me to the place. You’d think she would have gotten accustomed to me by now, yet it’s as though the more I show my face, the more the mystery around where I’ve been this past decade annoys her.
I unwrap the utensils and then set the paper napkin aside.
With crispy lettuce stabbed onto my fork, I wake my phone screen and resume my lunch break admin.
Income has been down since I moved back to Temperance—no surprise there.
The limited new content, restricted to pieces I filmed in advance before I moved, has taken a dip in views.
People like assurances, routines, and knowing they don’t have to guess when they’ll have new content.
My sporadic posts with little explanation have likely upset many of my followers, even though I adjusted the membership prices to reflect the reduced perks.
I jam a mouthful of salad in and put the phone to sleep while I ponder where to go next with the service.
Hell, for all I know, having the site is still grounds for prosecution in Minnesota, never mind the fact that I haven’t filmed anything since I got here.
I don’t fully understand how these new laws work, only that they took away an honest income stream for a lot of women.
Pornography isn’t often a first choice, but when it’s the only choice, a person soon gets accustomed to the lingering shame that accompanies it.
Or maybe that’s just me? Perhaps that’s my father’s judgment in the back of my mind, making me question if I’ll come to regret sharing my body in such a way.
If I’ll cause heartbreak when the truth potentially comes to light.
I open my email app and find a reply waiting from the clinic I’d enquired to on behalf of Mom.
Absent-mindedly stabbing at the salmon in the bowl, I scroll through the email to find what I wanted: their fee schedule.
I knew it’d be pricey, but the amount still floors me when I read how many hundreds it’ll cost for an initial consultation.
No treatment plan. Just the doc sitting there while Mom details her history.
It’s daylight robbery. I bet men wouldn’t have to pay this much to see a gender-based specialist.
“How are you liking the salad?”
Mouth full of fish, I startle when I register the woman who stands beside my table.
“Vanessa,” I manage around my mouthful before swallowing it. “Hi.”
She tugs out the seat opposite and drops into it. “I had a hard time convincing Theresa to put it on the menu, but I think it was worth it. A few people seem to like ordering it.”
She really is striking. Long, black hair pinned back into a half-up, half-down do, dangly earrings with blood red droplets resting against her jawline, and the kind of makeup I’ve tried and failed to do for quite a few years now, long lashes gently sweeping as she blinks, waiting on me to say something.
“It’s great. I like the dried cranberry in it.” Jesus. Could I sound more stilted?
“We haven’t had a chance to talk yet. I’m sorry. My name’s—”
“Vanessa,” I finish for her. “I’ve heard about you.”
Her brow furrows slightly, shoulders tense.
Fuck. “I mean, in a good way.” I press my hand to my forehead. “I’m an absolute mess today. Can you tell?”
She chuckles. “Takes the pressure off it always being me who’s the mess.”
She stares at me for a beat, and I find myself comfortable doing the same to her.
There’s something I can’t place my finger on, but she feels so familiar.
As if we’d been friends as kids and then lost touch over the years.
Yet I’ve never met this woman before. Don’t know her.
So why do I have this tug in my chest to stay a while? To talk to her more.
“How’s your mom?” she asks, breaking the spell.
I tilt my head and frown.
“I’m sorry. I overheard Jinx tell Chaos that it’s the reason why you came back. You don’t have to answer.”
A strange flutter takes flight beneath my ribs. Does he talk about me at the club? Of course, he would. I’m the goddamn Sheriff’s daughter.
“She’s doing okay.” I gesture to the darkened phone. “I was researching somewhere new to take her, actually.”
“Promising?”
I sigh, setting the fork in the bowl. “You never know until you try them, really. So, who’d know?”
“I get what you mean.” She stares out the front window as she talks. “I’ve lost count of how many thousands I spent at therapy before I found someone who actually made a difference.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She returns her focus to me with a smile.
“We’ve all got issues. I was lucky enough to find something that helps.
” Vanessa gestures to the salad. “Don’t stop eating on my account.
I just wanted to stop by and say hi. I know it can be hard settling in somewhere new, but I’m picking it’s worse when you come back to something familiar. ”
She isn’t wrong there. “Thanks. It means a lot that you’d think to talk to me.” I fuss with the pieces on the end of my fork. “Actually.”
She laces her fingers on the table before her.
“Do you find it hard dating Chaos?”
Her head tilts a little. “How so?”
“With everyone’s opinion of them in Temperance,” I clarify. “Does it bother you much?”
She turns her mouth down, shaking her head once. “Not really. Their opinion is their own, and they’re entitled to it. I won’t miss out on being with somebody amazing purely because of what some busybody who’d be the last person I’d call in an emergency thinks.”
“You explained that well,” I tease.
“I’ve had time to think about these things.” She smiles briefly before growing serious. “Are you worried about what people say about Jinx?”
My cheeks heat. “We’re not really a thing. At least, I don’t think we are. I just…” Where the hell am I going with this? “We’re trying it out, I suppose.”
“And I guess it’s extra hard ignoring the gossip when your father’s the Sheriff.”
“Ridiculously hard.” I sigh, setting my fork down. “I thought I was over all this. But I suppose it was more that I didn’t have his influence after I left. It never stopped being a thing—I just got far enough away that I didn’t notice it anymore.”
She glances at a customer who approaches the counter, ensuring Theresa has it covered before she speaks.
“My stepfather controlled my life for a long, long time,” she softly reveals.
“Even when I was out of reach. If you ever need to talk—” She stalls at the surprised look on my face before uttering with a shy smile, “Anyway.”
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head clear. “I’m not used to people offering help so freely. I appreciate it. I really do.”
She lights up. “Well, I’d love to have you join us on a girls’ day out if you’re keen. Let me know.”
Us… “You’re friends with Mariana, right?”
Vanessa frowns, slowing her movements halfway out of her seat. “Yeah.”
“We don’t get along too well, so maybe we could have just a one-on-one?”
“Oh.” She sets the chair back beneath the table. “Of course. Offer still stands.”
I open my mouth to thank her again, yet the growing roar of motorbikes steals her attention away. Fuck—it steals my focus away. I’m familiar with the sound of the club when they ride in a group—a regular enough sight while growing up—but damn. These bikes aren’t slowing down for anything.
“The hell?” Vanessa darts to the window as the first riders come into view.
“What are those boys up to now?” Theresa calls from the counter, her irritation obvious.
Several patrons stop their conversation to look toward the street.
“I don’t kn—” Vanessa stops herself, eyes widening.
Acid swirls the smidge of food floating in my gut. Oh, this can’t be good. The patches become clear as the first row of the procession passes by. No leering skull. No crooked crown.
These patches have three-headed dogs, snarling with blood dripping from their mouths.
“Devil’s Breed,” I whisper, moving to stand beside Vanessa.
She tugs her phone out of the pocket of her serving apron, thumbs flying over the tiny keyboard. “Chaos said I shouldn’t work today. Told me to stay home, but I said it couldn’t be that bad,” she rambles. “Oh, shit. He’s going to be livid.” She hits send with finality.
“What do you think they want?” I’d heard their name murmured plenty when I was a kid. Only saw them once or twice before I left. Everyone knows they’re the kind of trouble that makes the Kings of Anarchy look like puppies. But get the two together… “I should tell Dad.”
“I’d say he already knows,” Theresa mutters, appearing over my shoulder. “Should we be worried?” She directs the question to Vanessa in such a way that it’s clear she only needs a yes/no answer—no explanation required that would violate club code.
Vanessa swallows, biting her bottom lip while she watches the tail of the group roar by.
“Ness?” Theresa presses.
I can’t peel my eyes off the woman beside me, studying every flick of her eyes, every unsaid worry in the tension of her jaw.
Her gaze slips to me first, and then Theresa, apology in the untold explanation she keeps guarded for the club. “Yes.”