Chapter 15- Gingerbread Surprise
Tiffany
Shoving bags into the back of the car, Tiffany and Rose joked back and forth like old friends. Sometimes, family wasn't what you were born into; it was what you built from the pieces life left you with. Even if those pieces came with armed escorts and overprotective brothers.
“So, everyone heard you screaming my brother’s name yesterday. I had to put in ear plugs ‘cause I just can’t hear that kind of shit.”
Teasing the teen, Tiffany asked, “It bothers you because Ryder is your brother, right?”
“Of course. I honestly never thought for a minute he’d ever find a real girlfriend.”
“I’m a woman, not a girl,”
Tiffany corrected.
Slamming the trunk closed, Rose stared at her for a brief moment. “Did you just say that because Ryder always points out he’s a man when someone calls him your boyfriend?”
Shrugging, Tiffany bit her bottom lip. “I just thought it would be kind of like an honorarium of some sort.”
“You’re real funny in your own strange way. Now, come on. I’m dying to learn how to make homemade pizza.”
Climbing into the back of the SUV, Ace and Cork both swiveled their heads around at the same time to look at them. The women smothered a smile and quickly buckled their seat belts.
Rose asked nonchalantly, “You two are dropping us off, right?”
Cork answered immediately. “Negative. We are to stay with the two of you until Ryder comes home.”
Folding her arms over her chest, Rose pouted. “Why?”
“He believes that two of the three most important females in his life being alone together overnight presents a high-value target for our enemies.”
Tapping Cork on the shoulder, Rose asked innocently, “Are you a terminator, ‘cause you sure sound like one.”
Tiffany turned her face toward the window and smothered her laughter behind her hand.
“A what?”
Cork asked, genuinely confused.
“You know, a robot sent from the future to protect us.”
He clucked indignantly and turned away. “I refuse to dignify that question with a response.”
“I’m just saying,”
Rose continued, “if you are a terminator, you’re seriously malfunctioning.”
Ace cleared his throat, changing the subject. “So, what did you say you ladies are making for dinner tonight?”
Rose shifted her suspicious gaze from Cork to Ace. “Tiffany’s going to teach me how to make homemade pizza. Why? Wanna join us?”
“Negative. We are not to fraternize with the…split tails.”
Rose’s face morphed into a pure, blind fury, and she went completely off on the seriously stupid man. “That’s it. These two are going to hold you down, and I’m going to cram pizza in your mouth. We’re gonna keep cramming you full of pizza till you apologize for calling us that.”
Without much of a reaction, Cork intoned, “I do not eat pizza. It’s a disgustingly cheap pseudo-food intended to pacify the masses.”
“Someone hold me back, ‘cause I am going to kill that pompous son of a…”
“Rose Staunton, get ahold of yourself.”
Tiffany’s stern voice snapped the teen back to reality.
Gesturing wildly at the man, Rose stared at Tiffany with big eyes.
Tiffany scrambled to decide what to do with the two of them. “Cork, you monitor the perimeter outside the house tonight. Ace, you’re inside with us.”
Cork responded smugly, “Thank you, Tiffany. My prior military training makes perimeter patrol a particularly good assignment for me. I’m not the type to lie about inside like a big, lazy house cat.”
Rose’s indignant huff sounded much louder in the small confines of the vehicle.
Tiffany shot the man a dark look. “You’re intent on getting your eyes scratched out before the…assignment is over, aren’t you?”
Tossing her a heated look, Cork responded curtly, “I never allow myself to be attacked by children.”
Tiffany was beginning to wonder if his words were designed to be an insult to Rose or some kind of come-on for the woman wearing his club brother’s property cut. Ace must have thought the same thing, because the moment Cork stepped out of the vehicle at her place, Ace nailed him a hard right across the face.
Cork came back up and raised his fist, and Tiffany quickly spoke up. “Do not touch him. He’s a fully-patched brother. It would get you thrown out, and Ace has not been medically cleared by his doctor for roughhousing.”
Cork’s hands immediately dropped to his sides, and his expression cleared. “Take him and Rose inside. I’ll bring your groceries.”
Crisis averted, for the time being, Tiffany breathed deep. Turning, she hurried up the sidewalk to their front door. Taking out her keys, she was grateful that Ryder had installed security lighting on their front porch. It made it so much easier to get her key into the double locks.
Out of habit, she looked down and noticed what appeared to be muddy footprints on her doormat, and if she wasn’t mistaken, they were the right size for a man’s boots. They were all over the place like the dude had run back and forth. What the hell…?
Glancing around, she spotted a small package sitting on the stoop. Picking it up, she pushed the front door open and put the security code into the keypad to rearm the alarm. Between the dead birds and the muddy porch, coming home was getting to be a fairly depressing affair.
Tossing the package onto the table without bothering to check who it was from or who it was intended for, she went to put on some tea. Moving around, she noticed Cork drop her bags on the table before going back outside. There was something to Rose’s declaration that he had acted like a robot. His face was always expressionless, and he walked with the kind of slight, rigid movement normally associated with robots. Maybe he had sustained an injury in the military or something...
Rose stared the man down as he left. Shrugging out of her coat, she complained bitterly, “That man’s always an ass to me for no reason. He’s the only prospect with no people skills. When he gets patched, I hope they sew it right to his skin.”
Damn, when the girl got pissed, she got pissed. Tiffany could almost laugh if it weren’t so true.
Ace tried diplomatically to smooth things over. “He’s probably just going through something right now. Best steer clear of him, kid. I’d hate to have to nail him twice in one night.”
Catching the jacket Tiffany tossed her, Rose hung them on hooks near the back door. “I’d really like to forget the man even exists. So, Ace, are you making pizza with us?”
Freezing with a deer in the headlights look, he stammered, “M-maybe, I’ll just watch.”
Tiffany shook her head. “Nope, we’re making our own, so if you want to eat, you’ll have to make it.”
“I ain’t never been invited to dinner before and had to make my own food.”
Rose laughed merrily. “There’s a first time for everything.”
Heading into the kitchen, Tiffany opened the fridge and glanced back over her shoulder from the freezer. “I’m throwing some steak on for Cork. Do you want one for a topping?”
Ace’s face lit up. “Steak pizza sounds like biker food to me. I’ve never understood why steak isn’t a pizza topping.”
Pulling out a small tray of steaks from the freezer, Tiffany defrosted them in the microwave while she mixed up the ingredients for pizza crust. Letting the dough rise, she got Rose to help chop vegetables for the pizza and a salad.
“Why don’t you take Cork some hot tea?”
she suggested, feeling a bit sorry for the guy. “There’s a thermos in the cabinet.”
Ace let out an exasperated breath. “Sure, I can do that. Wish I knew what was stuck in that man’s craw tonight.”
Getting the steak ready, Tiffany put it in a plastic container along with some salad and sent Ace to feed Cork. She quickly cut another of the steaks into thin strips and organized the pizza toppings. After washing their hands, Tiffany showed Rose and Ace how to roll out the dough. After adding sauce, toppings, and different cheeses, they all compared pizzas.
Rose burst out laughing. “Ours at least looks like a pizza. Ace, yours looks more like a casserole.”
Obviously unwilling to concede defeat, Ace shook his head. “It ain’t over till the fat lady sings, ladies. It’s gonna taste great…I think.”
Standing there looking awkward but pleased with himself, Tiffany’s mind reeled back to the first time she’d ever met Ace. He’d been fresh off a prison stint for a crime he didn’t commit. Grieving the death of his twin brother, he hadn’t been eating properly or caring for his hygiene. The long, lustrous hair now pulled neatly back at the nape of his neck had been unwashed and hanging in his face, and dark circles gave his haunted eyes a gaunt quality that she’d remember until the day she died.
His words echoed through her head. “Why would an innocent little nurse be defending a piece of garbage like Ryder? That don’t hardly make no sense to me. His heart is as dark as mine.”
Now here he was, standing tall and healthy in clean clothing with a relaxed smile on his handsome face.
Leaning over, Ace snapped his fingers in her face. “Wake up, Tiff. You zoned out on us.”
She smiled wanly. “I was just thinking about that sorry excuse for a pizza you made.”
Laughing, he looked down at his ridiculous concoction. “Well, it might be like me: ugly on the outside but good on the inside. I’m reserving final judgment until I taste it.”
Rose teased him playfully. “If it tastes as bad as it looks, you’ll have to share with us. Good thing we’re expert pizza chefs.”
“Says the girl who’s made pizza only one time ever in her entire life.”
Grabbing hers, Rose headed for the oven. “I’ve eaten a lot of pizza in my time. That’s gotta count for something, right?”
“Sure, kid, why not?”
he placated her. “Move over now. I need room for mine in there. I gotta cook it before it collapses.”
Rose giggled. “It’s not the leaning tower of pizza.”
Shooting her a look of mock disgust, Ace retorted, “You’re a very punny kid. You know that, right?”
Putting her hands on her hips, she insisted, “I’m a woman, not a kid. Don’t keep calling me a kid.”
Shooting her a teasing smile, Ace teased, “I’ll be sure to ask your brother and dad about that one. Wouldn’t want to zig when I should have zagged.”
“Hell’s fire, I’ll be filing for social security before either of them admits I’m a grown-up.”
If her tone of voice was any indication, Rose’s feelings on the subject were conflicted.
Suddenly, Ace turned serious. “Being a grown-up is not all it’s cracked up to be. Don’t rush it, kid.”
Ambling back over to lean on the table, she mumbled despondently, “Yeah, whatever you say, Ace.”
Noticing the package Tiffany had brought in and set aside, Rose asked, “What’s this? Can we open it?”
Tiffany momentarily stopped trying to uncork a bottle of wine and nodded. “It must be something Ryder ordered. I think he said something about ordering a new meat thermometer.”
“Sounds like my brother. The man cannot stand a dry pot roast.”
As Tiffany went back to working on the cork, Rose got to tearing open the package and inspecting whatever was inside. Just as the cork finally came free, she murmured pensively, “Someone ordered a gingerbread man dish.”
Freezing in place, Tiffany wondered if she’d heard her guest right. Ace’s voice chimed in. “No, it’s a gingerbread girl. See that? She’s wearing a dress.”
“It doesn’t matter. She still as little gumdrop buttons down the front. That’s the important part.”
Feeling as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, the wine bottle slid from Tiffany’s hands. Crashing onto the neatly laid stone tile, the bottle splintered into a million pieces. She saw the red wine splash across the floor, triggering a memory of her finding Rupert.
She’d come home from class one day and found his bloodied body lying on the pristine, white tile of her kitchen floor. Stuart walked by, scooped the orange fur ball up and walked away. He casually tossed words over his shoulder that would stick with her forever.
Some triggers weren't just memories; they were landmines waiting to explode. The red wine spreading across white tile wasn't just spilled alcohol. It was every nightmare she'd tried to outrun condensed into one moment.
“Clean that up, wife. I had a bit of an accident.”
Looking down into the cat’s dead face he sighed. “He just wouldn’t listen.”
The casual cruelty in his voice had been worse than rage. It was the tone of a man who saw murder as just another way to make a point. Some monsters wore suits instead of leather, but they were monsters all the same.
Suddenly, someone was jerking on her arm.
Ace’s panicked voice broke through the fog. “Tiffany, what’s wrong. Did you see something? Tell me what the fuck is going on!”
Rose smacked his hand. “Leave her alone. She’s having a flashback or something.”
Snatching his hand away, he looked down at her worriedly. “Shit. Are you sure?”
“She’s fine, aren’t you, Tiffany?”
Rose was using the slow, calm voice that people often did when trying to dial down some drama.
“Su…sure,”
Tiffany stammered. “I just dropped the wine and…and…”
Rose snapped protectively. “And nothing, ‘cause you don’t owe anyone an explanation. Now, let’s get your pizza in the oven, okay?”
Feeling all manner of stupid, Tiffany nodded. “Sure, then I’ll clean up this wine mess.”
Ace was already throwing down a half a roll of paper towels and had it cleaned up before they got back from the oven. Looking down at her, he mumbled, “How about we have a nice white wine tonight?”
Nodding like a woman who’d gone off her rocker, Tiffany headed across the room. “I’ve got a couple in the refrigerator. They’ll be nice and cold.”
Soon after, Ryder blew through the front door. He stalked over, concern etched onto his face. He shot Ace a nervous glance, clueing her in to the fact that Ace probably texted him a little heads up that his old lady was acting crazy.
Pulling him a beer out of the fridge, she plastered a reasonable smile on her face. “You’re just in time for dinner. We’ve got pizza, steak, and pizza casserole.”
“Well, I ain’t never heard of pizza casserole before. I might try that.”
Rose chimed in, “Ace made it.”
Ryder deadpanned back, “Guess I’ll stick with steak.”
Everyone chatted and ate. It was surreal, sitting here with bikers and teenagers eating homemade pizza, while her past crept closer with every dead bird and gingerbread taunt. But maybe that's what family really meant. People who stood between you and your demons, even if they were battling their own.
Halfway through dinner, Ryder jerked forward in his seat. “What the fuck is that?”
Tiffany didn’t have to look to know he was pointing to the gingerbread dish.
Rose’s voice turned worried. “It came in the mail today. Am I in trouble for opening it?”
Tiffany stated quietly, “I was waiting until we were alone to talk to you about that.”
Rose reached for the dish.
“Don’t touch it, Rose.”
Standing so fast his chair flipped back, Ryder stalked over to the box it came in and pushed the flap down with his nail. “No return address.”
At that moment, Tiffany wished the floor would open up and swallow her. She couldn’t move or speak or think. Why did she always freeze up in situations like this?
Stuart had already found her again. This was an all-time record for him. She watched Ryder use a paper towel to carefully lift the dish back into the box and carry it out the door. God only knew where he was going or how long he’d be gone.
Rose, ever the studious observer of life, made a wild guess. “Is that to do with your ex?”
Nodding, Tiffany whispered, “You should go. Wherever I am is not a safe place for you to be anymore.”
“Fuck that.”
Tiffany’s head snapped up. Rose was not supposed to be cursing, and she knew it. Turning to her stunned friend, she asked quietly, “Ace, can you take Rose home?”
Ryder’s voice barked the doorway, “Ain’t none of us going anywhere. We’re going to sit right here, finish our meal, and wait for Cork and his team to have a proper look around. We know someone who can dust the dish for prints. Since it had no return address, it came from a person, not a company.”
Ace looked back and forth between his club brother and new friend. “How long has this been going on?”
Ryder swiveled his head around to look at her. “Tiffany, please answer the question.”
Rubbing her temple, she couldn’t manage to get rid of the pain throbbing there. “I didn’t understand that it was him until today.”
Shock and then realization dawned on his voice, and Ryder’s voice softened. “Looking back, what was the first thing that caught your notice?”
“The dead birds on our welcome mat probably should have given me more pause than it did,”
she snarked, angry with herself for not seeing the clues sooner. Hearing the others gasp, Tiffany realized the full weight of her error in thinking. “When I was little, my cat used to bring me dead birds and mice as some kind of cat offering.”
Ace sounded relieved. “Cats do that.”
“That’s exactly what made me think it was a stray looking for a new owner,”
she shared her reasoning. “Only, I never saw a cat at any point. Granted, I wasn’t actually looking for one either.”
Ryder asked quietly, “How many, Tiff?”
Looking down at the table, Tiffany couldn’t believe she’s been so stupid. “Five. I kicked them into the flower bed, thinking we’d deal with them in the spring.”
Ace spoke up, his voice laced with concern. “I can see how you would have thought that. I might not have put two and two together myself.”
“The cat I told you about? I brought it with me when I got married. Stuart hated his little offerings. He told me if it continued, he’d get rid of Rupert the Magnificent. One day I came home, and Stuart had…had…”
She stopped talking, not trusting her voice.
“You don’t have to say it,”
Ryder told her.
“I don’t know why I still get so emotional,”
Tiffany said, running a hand through her hair. “It’s really stupid to be upset about something like that after all these years.”
Rose leaned over. “What does that have to do with the gingerbread boy dish?”
Ryder’s head fell forward. “It was a gingerbread girl. They run. Haven’t you heard the story? The first time Tiff ran, it was Christmas, and he used the rhyme to taunt her.”
Ace’s concern morphed into fury in a heartbeat. “Tell me the fucker’s name.”
Tiffany issued a quick warning. “He’s from old money. If you touch him, you’ll end up in jail.”
“Been there, done that, and it would be a privilege to do it for you.”
Ace’s willingness to sacrifice himself to protect her was all kinds of messed up. Tiffany’s mind drifted back to all the times when she could have turned on Stuart, stabbed him in his sleep, or run him over with her car. The fact is, she’d chosen to run because she didn’t think she had it in her to kill someone—even the man who almost killed her more than once.
Sitting at the table staring at Ace, she began to reevaluate. This man had been through hell and back. The thought of him throwing away the life he’d worked so hard to build for her simply broke her heart. Then again, allowing Ryder or any other person to get hurt was equally repugnant. There had to be another way.
Snubbing back big girly tears, she sucked it up and pulled herself together. “Seeing you go to jail over this would crush my soul. Besides, this is the last thing you two need to focus on right now. You’ve got this Darkness situation to worry about,”
she reminded them.
Rose’s angry voice chimed in again. “That does it. I say we track the bastard down. You two hold him down, and Tiff and I will shove gingerbread cookies down his throat until he turns into one himself.”
Ryder tilted his head, staring at his sister. “Have you officially lost your freaking marbles, sis?”
Jerking her shoulders in a shrug, she chicken-necked her brother. “What? It sounds like a good plan to me.”
Ryder’s voice turned steely. “Well, I’m solving my problems one bitch at a time. First, I’ll take care of the one sitting in the basement of our clubhouse, and next I’ll deal with that punk-ass bitch of an ex-husband of yours.”
Something about the resolve in his voice sent a chill down Tiffany's spine. She'd spent years running from one man's violence, only to find safety with men who dealt in necessary brutality. The irony wasn't lost on her. Sometimes, the only way to escape a monster was to align yourself with wolves who knew when to bare their teeth. And looking at the determined faces around her table, she knew Stuart had finally made his fatal mistake. He'd threatened a woman under MC protection. In their world, that wasn't just a challenge.
It was a death sentence.