25. Arden
Arden
It turns out the diner is exactly what I hoped it was.
The black and white floors are so shiny they’re reflective, the tables are brightly chromed, and the booths are covered in cherry red plastic.
The menu is made up of hamburgers, hot dogs, and milk shakes, plus fries and turkey sandwiches, and the only thing they have for dessert is apple pie and vanilla ice cream.
I adore it and immediately decide that I’m going to make Mars and Orion bring me here once a week.
Right now, though, I’m here with Taryn and the infamous Sammy, who I’ve heard of but never met.
The girl is a force to be reckoned with.
She’s nearly as tiny as me but has a personality three times bigger, along with dark curly hair, a huge smile, and the most beautiful dove-gray eyes.
The girl has never met a prank she didn’t like, and though I’ve heard she has a tendency to put herself in dangerous situations, I can’t imagine her ever actually wanting to end her life.
She’s enjoying it too much.
She’s also a very close replica for someone else I know.
“His she the small-town version of Stella?’ I ask Taryn on our way into the diner.
She smiles and shrugs. “Maybe that’s the kind of person we attract?”
Once we slide into the booth, though, Taryn turns serious. “Okay. We’re here. Now tell me what the fuck happened to you and how you got to Wood.”
They’re fair questions.
They’re also questions I don’t want to talk about right now, because they bring back memories I don’t like looking at, and leave other problems unsolved.
Like where our Stella is right now.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I say, eyeing her. “But I’m guessing it would be a long story that neither of us wants to tell now that we’re here and safe.”
She eyes me back, her lips pressed together, and I don’t really blame her. The Arden in New York would have answered her question without argument the moment she asked.
The Arden of Hawke’s Wood... isn’t that girl anymore. And Taryn doesn’t know the Arden who lives here, yet.
But when she grins, her eyes sparking with mischief, I think she can guess who this version of me is. And if I know Taryn, she’s excited about seeing me spread my wings.
So to speak.
“Right,” she says. “Let’s order, then, because I have things I want to get your thoughts on.”
We order three cheeseburgers and three vanilla milk shakes, plus boat loads of fries, and the owner of the cafe–Parker Jones, a woman who looks like she might have actually been alive in the 50s–takes it all down with quick pencil scratches.
Then she looks over the rims of her glasses at us.
“That it? You don’t want ice cream and apple pie? Mine’s better than that slop you can get at Penny’s, I’ll tell you that.”
This makes me laugh, and I quickly alter my opinion of the wiry old woman. She may have been alive in the 50s, and if she was, she was probably the first woman of her age to start telling the men what to do and where to do it.
And then recommending a good apple pie afterwards.
“Watch it, Parker, I’ve heard Arden here is good friends with Penny,” Sammy notes with a giggle and a set of enormous eyes turned in my direction.
Like she’s throwing me under the bus or something.
Parker sniffs. “Penny Sands,” she says sharply. “Yes, she’s got some good stuff in that bakery of hers. The cinnamon rolls are divine. But she needs to leave pie alone. I’ll bring you three slices. You can be the judge.”
I’ve had Penny’s pie and I don’t think Parker’s can possibly be any better.
But I’m willing to find out.
And I have to admit that I love the idea of the baker and the owner of the diner competing to prove to me who makes better pie. It’s just so... small town.
It’s just so Wood.
Taryn launches into a bunch of questions about what exactly I’ve been doing with Penny and whether I’ve been to the bookstore yet, and what I thought of their selection, and when I tell her Penny has actually given me her cinnamon roll recipe she nearly faints.
“You’re coming to my house tomorrow, to teach me how to bake them,” she says.
No nonsense. No arguments. So Taryn.
“Can’t,” I tell her simply. “Tomorrow is the festival.”
She smacks her hand to her forehead. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. I should know; Gunner and Gabe are doing some crazy exhibit with their new furniture collection.”
“And they’re supposed to be helping me and Cameron with the art,” Sammy says quickly. “Don’t let them forget. I convinced Cam to do this and he’ll never forgive me if it doesn’t go right.”
They fall to planning, and I watch the two of them, feeling an alarming sense of deja vu.
Taryn and me in a diner with another tiny and mischievous friend, scheming about things that may or may not be possible.
Granted, this isn’t a jewelry heist, it’s the more wholesome installation of art at a small town’s summer festival that’s happening in April, but still.
The echoes are still here.
And it sends a sudden chill rushing across my skin.
When our food arrives I immediately grab a fry and dip it in my milkshake, savoring the combination of sweet and salty, hot and cold, and then reach for one of the cheeseburgers.
I haven’t had anything to eat all day because I knew we were coming here, and I’m starving.
Taryn flashes me a quick grin and takes her own burger, and then Sammy grabs one, nearly upsetting her milkshake in the process.
“Sammy, careful,” I gasp.
I reach out to grab her milkshake and set it right before she can tip it over, and the moment my fingers touch the glass, I freeze.
I’ve done this exact same thing before, in a cafe in New York, in the middle of the night. Right before things went sideways on us.
My eyes rise up and meet Taryn’s, and I can see she’s thinking the exact same thing.
We’ve been here before. Only we’re in a different town, and everything should be safe. We’re far from the mafia ties of New York, far from the men who shot their way through that cafe and stole us out of the kitchen.
No one here knows that we’re daughters of the Italian mafia. They don’t know how much we’re worth or that we’re worth anything more than anyone else. We’re fine. We’re safe.
Still, I see the panic flash through Taryn’s eyes and wonder if I know everything there is to know. Because we were both targeted and then we both ended up in Wood.
And that seems like an awfully big coincidence.
I shove the rest of the fry into my mouth, trying to distract myself, but before that has a chance to work, there’s movement at the door of the cafe and someone pushes roughly into the diner.
Another guy follows him, and then another, and soon there are ten of them standing around, looking like they’re about to rob the place.
They’re bikers, I can see that much. But they’re not Oaks. They’re not wearing the casual flannels and scruffy leather jackets of Mars and his gang.
They’re wearing all black, half of it leather and half of it denim. And that marks them as Iron Saints.
The men who own the compound where Mars and Orion found me.
And just like that, I stop feeling safe and start remembering all the times I’ve spotted them around town, standing and staring at me like I’m some sort of movie star. I remember them looking up at my bedroom window from the street and Mars and Orion arguing when they don’t think I can hear them.
Discussing whether they should go to the sheriff about the Saints or not.
We all knew they’d notice at some point that the girl they thought they had in hand had suddenly moved to Mars’ house, and I don’t know about my men but somewhere in the back of my head I’ve spent the last week wondering when the hell they’re going to do something about their lost cargo.
Me.
The first guy’s eyes swing suddenly to me and grow cold, and I think that the time has come.
“I think we better go,” I say quietly.
Taryn swings her eyes from me to the bikers and back, and she grows very still. “Arden, is there something you’re not telling me?’
There are a lot of things I’m not telling her, and now is not the time to start. I want to get the fuck out of here and get home before those guys decide I look small enough to grab.
But I’m not the one who pushes out of my seat and stands to her full height.
“You girls go out the back entrance,” Sammy says. “Leave these guys to me.”
“Sammy!” I hiss, grabbing at her hand. I’ve heard the stories about this same club trying to grab her mere months ago, and missing out on it, and she’s not exactly big enough to be safe from grabbing hands.
She throws me off, though, and gives me a quick smile. “Don’t worry, Arden. I’m related to the sheriff.”
“Bear isn’t sheriff anymore!” Taryn hisses, also grabbing at her.
Sammy laughs. “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s the #2 in this town, Taryn, and you know it. Don’t worry. Nothing’s gonna happen to me.”
And without any warning whatsoever, she starts walking toward the gang at the front of the cafe... and my heart starts beating wrong.
Then it starts hammering.
And the world around me starts to go dark.
Taryn, bless her, is looking at me when I sway, and reaches out to grab me. “God, your heart,” she mutters. “Right, Sammy’s on her own. I’m getting you back to Mars and Orion. Let’s go.”
We’re halfway home when the guy starts talking to us.
I’m walking under my own power and feeling a bit better, and I’m thinking I can make it back to the house without Taryn’s help.
She’s still with me because she’s a pit bull when it comes to protecting the people she loves, though, and the minute he steps out in front of us, I’m glad I have an ally.
He’s tall and stringy, like he grew too fast and didn’t build enough muscle to keep up, but he’s got a mean look in his eye and has a switchblade in his hands. He flips it around casually, like it’s just a toy, but I can’t stop staring at the silver gleam of it.
“Hey, girls,” he says, sounding pleasant and boring. “Nice day, ain’t it?”
“It was a lot nicer when we were on our own,” Taryn says sharply. “Get lost.”
He pretends to be hurt by this. “What do you mean? I’m just being nice. Where do you two stay? I’m new here.”
We try to push past him but he puts an arm out and grabs my wrist, yanking me toward him until I’m flush against his chest. And now he looks like he’s done being nice.
“Mars treating you good?” he hisses. “Because you know you don’t belong to him. You belong to us.”
I don’t pause. God, I don’t even hesitate.
I pull my other arm back, make a fist, and let it fly.
I get him right in the nose and he goes down, gushing blood and snarling, and then Taryn and I are sprinting, our feet pounding the sidewalk as we run for the garage ahead.
I can just make out the men milling around in the driveway, and thank the universe that they’re there.
Plenty of them are there, and that means we’ll have protection if we can just get to where they can see us.
They’ll get Mars and Orion and they’ll take care of this guy following us.
They’ll–
My heart stutters and stops for a moment, then takes off at a sprint, the beats too fast and sporadic to be right, and I feel my body start to respond.
I’m not getting enough blood to my head, not enough to my legs, and suddenly everything gets wavy in front of my eyes.
I can’t feel my feet and my hands have gone cold, and though Taryn is supporting me, my knees give out and send me to the concrete below.
Behind us, I can hear the man laughing like this is all going according to plan, and I’ve got a terrible, creeping feeling that he did plan it all. They came after me when they knew Mars and Orion were busy, and then they hassled me until my heart decided it didn’t want to deal with them anymore.
And now I’m on my knees on the sidewalk, Taryn jerking at me and trying to get me up.
I know it won’t work. I’ve been here before, and in seconds I’ll be unconscious and she’ll be here trying to fight that guy off by herself. All because she tried to help me instead of saving herself.
All my fault.
Again.
I look up at the club, desperately seeking someone’s eyes, and find Rooks standing on the sidewalk, staring. He takes one look at me, then the guy behind me, and Taryn at my side, and his face goes dangerously quiet.
My vision is already fading, though, and I can’t call out to him. I’m falling, blackness seeping in, and look again just long enough to see Rookie turning to grab Dutch, and the two of them sprinting toward us.