Chapter 2
2
Sienna / Syla
I always hated going to the mall. Well, not always. Just recently. Life has a funny way of ruining the simple things sometimes.
The mall was just too open. Too many people around. Too many opportunities for danger to weave its way into the endless, faceless crowd.
Being here made me an easier target. Exposed. But Candace needed my help, and I could not say “no” to her. Not that I would ever say “no” to Candace—I owed that woman so much more than a few hours of my Saturday—but the thought of risking my safety had me wishing I’d made an excuse to stay home.
At least I had shelter around me. The vendor booth Candace had rented for the Nashville Food Festival was cozy. After we’d moved the last of the flowers to our spot, she’d apologized profusely for having to leave me on my own for a few hours, but she had the Anderson wedding order to fill back at the store and there were problems.
Fortunately, the man behind our booth had been super sweet, helping me set up the portable canopy Candace had packed in my car. It had been a small struggle getting the thing set up and attaching the back wall, but it was worth it, providing me and all of the fresh cut flowers much needed shade from the bright afternoon sun.
Most of the people here today came for the food and locally grown produce. A few people would stop now and then to admire the variety of flowers Candace normally sold in her shop or buy a small bouquet that I’d wrap for them in pretty paper, but it was hard competing with barbecue and tacos. The delicious smells wafting through the air were making me hungry.
I fussed with a vase full of beautiful, purple gladiolus while secretly spying on the family across the row who were looking at handmade pottery. The little girl with them was precious—like looking at a long-forgotten memory of my own childhood. She couldn’t have been more than four or five, with long, blonde hair that glistened in the sun. My own hair used to glisten like that. Now it was as dark as the stains on my soul.
She held onto her daddy’s fingers while secretly spying over at me too. I think it was the pretty, rainbow-colored roses Candace had gotten in this morning capturing the little girl’s attention. But despite the temptation, she never let go of her daddy’s hand.
She was too young to appreciate how precious that connection was. How quickly it could be taken away and become something you cry yourself to sleep over. Something I’d never get used to not being able to do. I missed my dad. Missed being able to sit on the back patio with him or even hug him for no reason. But missing him meant he was safe.
I touched the small, gold heart that dangled from the gold chain around my neck. It was the only thing of my mother’s that had escaped Arizona with me four years ago.
Dad had been my rock after my mother had passed. But more than anything, he was the only family I had left. I’d forever kick myself for not listening to him when it came to the choices I was making with Diesel. All the warning signs were there, but I was too blind to see them. It was too late when I realized everything my dad had told me was true. I hated myself a little more each time I thought back to the day I’d met Diesel. I wished I had a do-over. I’d have done so many things differently.
I could still picture it all in my mind. Freddie, the evening cook at the Waffle House I was working at, had handed me an envelope wrapped in red ribbon. “Happy twenty-first birthday, Syla!” he’d said. “Big things are in store for you, kiddo. I feel it in my bones.”
“You say that every year, Freddie. It’s been three years now and so far, nothing big has happened to me.” I smiled at the white-haired, old man who was like a grandfather to me.
“Well, I mean it this time,” he said with that sweet grin of his. “Now make a wish and open your present.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing for all sorts of things I’d never get. It didn’t matter. I may not have had much, but what I did have was enough. I pulled the red bow off and glanced inside. I’d expected just to see a pretty card; after all, it was an envelope. Never in a million years would I have guessed at what was in my hand.
The desire to squeal with delight had me covering my mouth, which made me drop everything to the ground. “No, Freddie. I can’t accept this,” I said as I bent to retrieve the card and its contents—a shiny $500 VISA gift card. “It’s too much.”
“Little one, you’ve been dreaming for the last three years about going to California and taking those photography courses at that school. I never had any kids, and you’re the closest I’ll ever have to a daughter, Syla, so don’t you worry about it. Now you’ve got no more excuses.”
I had a million excuses, mostly swirling around the fact that going back to college was out of the question. My dad was barely keeping on top of the medical bills that just kept coming after Mom died to afford sending me for another year at the community college. My tips helped pay for my used car and all the necessary repairs that had come with buying it, but most days I felt like a burden on him.
Taking on student loans just wasn’t in the cards for either of us. And no one wanted to give a kid with a high school diploma and one semester of Business Management classes a decent job. And my love of photography wouldn’t pay the bills either. It was either waitressing or retail—at least waitressing came with some cash tips.
I rose to my tiptoes, quickly kissed the old man’s cheek, and promised, “Thank you, Freddie. I’ll look into those classes tonight. I won’t let you down.”
Freddie ruffled my hair. His smile grew with genuine affection. I hated myself for lying. The $500 might pay for some groceries.
“I know you won’t. Now get out there and take some orders. I can’t keep this place open if no one has food to pay for.”
The front door to the diner had opened shortly after that and three rugged-looking men walked in. Two were older with silver beards and weathered skin, but the third looked to be around my age with a few days’ worth of stubble on his sharp jawline.
All three wore black leather vests with a variety of patches on them. Two large, crossed daggers with tears of blood dripping from the blades were centered on their backs. Above the blades, the words “DOUBLE DAGGERS” was written in red capital letters. Below their emblems was another patch that read “ARIZONA,” and a small patch with MC on it was stitched off to the side. They looked hungry and intimidating, but it wasn’t the first time I’d dealt with hangry men. I should have been scared, but I wasn’t. At this hour of the night, coffee and a smile often fixed any issue, and I came armed with a fresh pot and three mugs.
Besides, I was too enthralled by the younger guy who wore his light brown hair slicked back in a long braid to feel anything more than enticed.
He stopped right in front of me as the other two slid into a booth in the back. His eyes dropped past my uniform and shorts to my bare legs and then slowly raised, stopping at my chest, where they lingered a little too long. I blocked his view with plastic covered menus.
The corners of his mouth turned up and his tongue grazed his bottom lip. “Look at you. All prepared.”
“Diesel, get your ass back here and leave the girl alone,” the oldest of the two men ordered.
“Oh, I’ll be seeing you again, beautiful.” He smiled and man, what a smile it was. All full of wicked promises.
I couldn’t help smiling back. Of course, he’d be seeing me again. It was getting close to midnight, and I was the only waitress working the overnight shift since Melanie decided to call off sick again. Unless they planned to write up their order and walk it up to Freddie, they weren’t getting any food. But that didn’t stop me from checking Diesel out.
He wore a black Harley-Davidson T-shirt that stretched tightly across his chest and around his biceps. Huge thighs encased in blue denim made my twenty-one-year-old mouth water. “Evening, gentlemen.” I set three mugs and three menus down in front of them. “Coffee?”
The two older men motioned for me to start pouring as they perused the menu. But the one they called Diesel just smiled—you know, the kind of smile where someone barely parts their lips just enough for you to see pearly whites, but it’s their eyes that draw you in? His version sent shivers through me, making my nipples harden beneath my uniform. I’d never experienced anything like that before.
“I’m guessing you’re not one of the options on the menu?”
Oh, those words. The raspy way he was delivering them. My knees started to lose their hold. “Afraid not,” I said, doing my best to flirt right back at him.
Over the next month, the more he flirted, the harder I fell. It started with rides home from work, rides to work, and filling all my free time in between. It wasn’t long before the brown-haired god Diesel claimed my innocence and made me his. I’d ignored every warning Freddie gave me up to that point. Fought with my father until we were both blue in the face. Lost the two best friends I’d had since grade school because they all tried to warn me. No one could convince me that Diesel wasn’t my knight in shining armor.
I still remember Dad’s words the day I stuffed my backpack with clothes and told him I was moving in with Diesel. “You’re an adult now, Pumpkin, so I can’t keep you from making a mistake.” He sighed. “But I’m gonna tell you you are. One bigger than you can ever imagine. When you realize this, I’ll be here to help you fix the wrong you’ll make when you walk out that door.”
I didn’t want to be a burden on him anymore or stick around to watch how easily he could replace my mother with another woman. I knew he was lonely. We both were still grieving, but I didn’t want to watch her memory be erased by someone else. He had no room to talk about mistakes.
When I had swung my leg over that motorcycle seat and climbed on behind Diesel, there was no turning back. No leaving. I didn’t fully understand what it meant to be his “property.” I was riding high on the respect I received being the woman on the back of Diesel’s bike. No one ever told Diesel “No.”
His father might be the King, but Diesel was the Prince, and I was his Princess. Too bad that didn’t last. Looking back, I hadn’t realized it at the time, but it wasn’t respect he garnered—it was fear. Everyone knew not to cross paths with the Double Daggers MC, and by proxy, that included Diesel’s path unless they had something to offer. Lessons were often taught the hard way and as the months slid by to a full year later, I found myself learning them too.
I knew Diesel was behind Freddie’s death, but I couldn’t, more like wouldn’t, let myself believe he could hurt such a sweet man who wanted nothing but the best for me.
A man whose blood was now on my hands too.
The night before Freddie died, we’d stopped at the Waffle House to pick up what would be my last paycheck. I had orders to follow. Words I had to deliver to Freddie. Promises I now had to break...
“There she is! My sweet girl!” Freddie had come out from behind the counter as soon as he saw me. I was happy to see his friendly face, but inside, I was wishing I was anyplace else but here. His smile fell away the moment he saw my black eye.
Diesel immediately grabbed my wrist, tugging me away to the table in the corner of the dining room where the club sat every time they came in.
Freddie narrowed his eyes at me. His usually pale skin had turned red with fury. I knew he strongly disapproved of me being with Diesel, but seeing my face darkened black and blue was his final straw. My gut sank. I didn’t want Freddie to see me like this. I don’t know why, but I cared more about what Freddie thought than what my own father did.
I sat quietly in the corner while Diesel and his two enforcer brothers continued their code-word discussion about some club business. I wasn’t stupid; what they were alluding to wasn’t lost on me. That was until they were interrupted by Freddie.
“You do that to her face?” Freddie seethed while shaking a metal spatula at Diesel.
Diesel just gave him the look—the one that often made me shrink for daring to ask questions. “It’s none of your damn business.” Diesel stared him down. “Now be a smart man and go back to your greasy kitchen.”
Freddie just stood there, rolling in his anger. I could tell he was thinking of all the ways he could interfere on my behalf. I silently shook my head, trying to tell him not to. Pleading with him not to go down that path with Diesel. I’d seen that path firsthand, and all too often it was coated with blood.
Diesel raised his chin. “You know what happens to old men who don’t know how to mind their own business? They end up with no business. You feel me?”
Freddie grit his teeth. “Syla deserves better. She’s a sweet girl; a precious gem.”
“Old man, Syla is my problem, not yours, so I suggest you mind your business and bring us some coffee.”
Problem ? Now I was a problem ? So much for all that bullshit, whispering in my ear how much you love me . I wanted to scream but held my tongue because I knew if I even said a peep, I’d feel the sting of Diesel's hand across my face.
“I am minding my business. Syla’s my business. Someone like her is too good to be with the likes of you.”
Diesel growled a warning.
Freddie shook his spatula at him. “Yeah, you don’t scare me. You’re just a scared, little punk hiding behind your club. On your own, you’re nothing.”
Freddie slid up the right sleeve of his shirt, exposing a worn tattoo of something I couldn’t quite make out. Diesel’s eyes widened before he looked up at Freddie’s face and then turned his back to him.
“Little one”—Freddie stared at me—“if you still got that gift I gave you, you best be using it before it’s too late.”
The following day, my world collapsed further as the news highlighted a robbery-gone-wrong at the local Waffle House. The waitress, a new girl Freddie had recently hired named Shelby, was found shot to death in the stockroom.
And the cook was found dead in the kitchen—shot twice in the head.
“Excuse me. Miss?”
Two women were trying to get my attention. I’d been so deep in thought I hadn’t seen I had customers.
“Yes, sorry. I’ll be right with you.” I set the handful of red roses back into the pile. I needed to get my head together. The roses were delicate and needed to go into cold water soon.
Something happening behind me had people straining to look. A few folks hurried past my booth as if they needed to be someplace else fast.
People started shouting and what sounded like glass breaking echoed through the air. I hoped the man selling honey behind me hadn’t broken any of his bottles. Some of his homemade shelves looked a bit unstable. I couldn’t see though, as my canopy tent had a back piece attached to it, and he had strung up a huge banner with his business logo on his side.
My customer shoved the bouquet of carnations back into the holder and, before I could ask her if she wanted them wrapped, she and her friend hurried away.
Sheer terror curled into my gut as the gunfire went off. My greatest fears were coming to life. Somehow, they’d found me. How? No, no, no. This can’t be happening. I’d covered my tracks. I’d changed— everything . I was in Tennessee, not Arizona.
I needed a place to hide. Maybe they’d think I was gone if I made myself real small. I started moving boxes right before something exploded.
My past had finally caught up to me.
The popping sounds… I was sure they were gunshots. They kept coming and coming. Each sounding louder and closer, one after another. A gust of noise and extreme heat blasted out behind me, tossing me into a table. I dropped to the ground and wrapped my arms around my legs, bracing for the shot I knew was going to be placed between my eyes.