Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
KYRA
Jinx hands me a steaming cup of coffee and then sets a short glass of juice on the side table for the bundle on my lap. She still won’t talk, but the other women tell me they think she’s no older than nine. I feel privileged that she chose me as a safe place to rest.
“Let me know if you need a break,” he whispers, taking the seat next to mine on the porch. “I’ll get Floss to take over.”
I adjust the quilted blanket over the curled child. “I’m okay. When did he say he’d be here?”
“Shouldn’t be far away.” Jinx looks to the end of the driveway as though seeking out my father.
I’m amazed he got the bully to agree. Would probably pay a handsome fee to find out what exactly they said to each other, too.
It’s been a damn long night at the farmhouse.
I don’t feel right calling it a clubhouse, not when there’s a stronger vibe of homeliness and community here than anything quintessentially biker-club about it.
The women eventually succumbed to exhaustion and slept wherever they felt most comfortable.
Two of the ladies curled up together beside the fire, finding comfort in an open space and having each other nearby.
One sleeps on the sofa. Another opted for the security of the bedroom set aside for them upstairs.
Most interestingly, the assertive woman Jinx tells me he brought back went missing about the same time Fang did.
I guess we all find comfort in a crisis in different ways.
I reach across for his hand and tickle my fingers against the back of his palm. He glances at me and then takes hold, lifting my hand to place a quick kiss on it.
“I hope you realize what a good thing you did here,” I whisper. “You might not be a good man, but you do good things.”
“Sometimes.” He glances back to the road again, and sure enough, my father’s patrol car turns in.
“Guess that’s the end of a peaceful morning,” I say.
“Necessary evil,” Jinx remarks, rising from his seat to greet him.
He leans down to kiss me on the head and then turns for the steps down to the yard. My father idles into the yard, turning the vehicle around for a quick exit before killing the engine and getting out.
Keller climbs out of the passenger side.
Typical. Had to bring backup to assert more dominance in the situation.
“Time to go home, Kyra.” Dad breezes past Jinx and heads for the porch.
“I’m good, thanks,” I call back, disturbing the sleeping girl.
She rubs her eyes and then twists to look at Dad. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing to worry about,” I assure her, lifting the edge of the quilt to fix her hidey-hole.
“You upset your mother,” Dad says, cresting the steps. “You owe her an explanation for this.”
“I think she understands just fine.”
“Inside, Marty,” Jinx snaps, getting between Dad and his deputy. “Kyra’s not the reason why you’re here.”
My father reluctantly goes indoors as requested, but not without conveying every inch of his disgust for me in a single look.
The young girl shuffles around to sit taller, watching as they walk indoors, and it strikes me.
She spoke. Holy shit.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, hoping casual conversation will lull her into saying more.
She shakes her head and then moves the quilt aside to hop off my lap. Damn it. I guess we can make progress with baby steps rather than leaps and bounds.
She follows the men inside the farmhouse, and I reach for my coffee to do the same, yet stall.
It’s beautiful here. Picturesque, with open fields leading down to the trees by the river, long tufts of grass swaying in the gentle gusts of wind. I take my coffee down to the far end of the porch and peek around to the far side of the house. More fields, but these are ripe with color.
Somebody moves within the tall grass, and my chest grows tight.
Who the hell? I grip the coffee mug, frozen in place.
Do I move and risk them seeing me? Or do I stay static and hope they head in another direction?
I squint a little harder at the person, hoping to get a glimpse of a patch, but there’s no point.
The guy wears a plain cream-colored shirt and dark brown pants, a wide-brimmed hat shielding his head. Two more men dressed the same approach him from the road.
They’re Amish.
“Holy shit.” That was too much for so early in the morning and on a little over four hours of sleep.
“You shouldn’t really be out here alone.”
I juggle the coffee cup to save it from dropping on the porch. “Hell’s bells. Can you not sneak up on me?”
Fang grins. “Sorry.” His face falls. “But I’m serious. Until we know what the Devil’s Breed will do next, it’d be better if you stayed close to one of us.”
“I know which one I pick,” I tease.
He ushers me toward the door with a soft smile. “You’ve done good for him. I’m glad you two sorted it out.”
“Are you?” I smirk. “Or are you just glad I’m keeping him occupied so he has less time to harass you?”
He shrugs. “Both.”
I step into the foyer and note my father and his sidekick in the living room to the left with Jinx, Chaos, Flinch, and the three women who stayed downstairs, the girl nestled against one lady’s side. “Where are the other two?”
“Jenna’s in the bathroom. And I think the other one is still sleeping.”
I check my smartwatch. “It’s after ten, Fang.”
“It was a long night. She’s probably exhausted after what they’ve been through.”
Regardless, something doesn’t feel right.
His eyes twitch a little as his frown deepens. “What are you not saying, Kyra?”
My father’s head turns at the sound of my name.
“Let me check on her.” I dash up the stairs two at a time, hand on the banister rail to help launch myself faster.
The door’s shut to the spare bedroom. I rap my knuckles against it. “Kathy. Are you awake?”
She doesn’t answer. Nausea swims in my gut. She was the most withdrawn last night. I should have picked something could be off. I knock again, harder, louder. “Kathy!”
The door cracks open, but it’s not the woman with fiery red hair who answers.
It’s the creepy guy with all the face tattoos: Circus.
Fang joins me at the door with Jenna, fresh out of the shower.
“What’s going on?” she asks. “Is Kathy okay?”
Circus raises a heavily inked finger to his mouth to tell us to be quiet and then eases the door wide.
Curled amongst a nest of blankets and pillows is Kathy, fast asleep and apparently, perfectly fine as she cuddles a black goat plushie with a pentagram stitched on its forehead.
I glance back at Circus as Jenna pushes her way into the room and drops to kneel at the woman’s side.
“What’s the story here, brother?” Fang asks in a low voice.
Circus nods for us to step out onto the landing and pulls the door half-closed behind us when we do. “Nightmares,” is all he says in a deep, raspy voice that feels like the unexpected calm of thunder on the horizon. “She was crying.”
Holy shit. “She was okay with you being there?”
He nods.
“Good work.” Fang claps him on the shoulder and then turns to me. “Crisis averted.”
He makes for the stairs, and I follow, figuring I’m not needed up here, but not without glancing back at Circus.
He’s fucking terrifying, but I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover. The man stares back at me without an ounce of emotion and then turns for Kathy’s room, closing the door behind him with Jenna still inside.
“Everything okay?” Jinx whispers when I tuck myself against his side.
“Yeah.” I guess at some stage these people will stop surprising me, but it’s clearly not today. “Everything’s just as it should be.”