Chapter 6
Kayden
I can’t walk away.
At first, I thought the address Monk gave me was wrong, but then I recalled Wren’s grandmother living in Alabama, and so I drove through the night, burning the midnight oil to get here as fast as I could.
Damn, the place is practically like a ghost town.
There’s not much here: a gas station, a small market, a post office that could pass as a shed, and an old dive bar, which looks like it’s probably the only restaurant in town.
And the only thing open at this wee hour is the gas station.
But just as I’m about to pull in, I see some lights up ahead, so I keep on driving down the main drag, curious as to what else this place has to offer.
My stomach gives me a loud rumble, reminding me I haven’t eaten in over twenty-four hours so I’m hoping it’s a food place.
As soon as I got word from Monk on Wren’s whereabouts, I got on the road, only stopping to piss and fill up.
Looks to be a diner called “The Bird’s Nest.” Sign says closed but there are some lights on inside like it might be opening soon so I pull into a parking space. As I look at the glass door for the hours, movement inside catches my attention.
I must be hallucinating.
There’s no fucking way.
It’s her.
My baby’s inside, filling the glass case with baked goods. Her hair is up in a messy bun, the apron she’s got on in is covered in flour, and she looks fucking incredible.
My heart revs inside my chest. God, I can’t believe it’s her.
She’s even more beautiful than I remember.
It’s like she hasn’t aged a day. Stunning blue eyes.
Perfect face with her cute little dimples impressed in her cheeks.
And those sexy-as-hell lips. Fuck, I shouldn’t be here.
This is pure torture. But like hell am I driving away.
I came here to make sure she’s okay, but now I need to find out the reason she’s here.
She’s supposed to be working in the big city or traveling the world, cooking with renowned chefs.
What the fuck happened to her working with Chef Zen?
Why is she here slaving away before daybreak, filling cases with pastries and wiping down countertops?
Why the fuck is Wren working in a diner?
But maybe it’s owned by her granny and she’s just here helping her out.
She disappears back into the kitchen, and I pull out my phone shooting off a text.
Me: Hey, man! Hittin’ you up one last time. Are you able to tell me who owns the diner in this town? It’s called The Bird’s Nest.
I stare at my screen, realizing it’s a long shot for Monk to respond this early in the morning. But when a text buzzes in, I breathe a sigh of relief.
Monk: Any friend of Red is a friend of mine. Whatever you need, let me know. Give me a sec and I’ll get back to you.
Me: Thanks, man. Sorry for disturbing you so early.
Monk: Don’t sleep much. Not a problem.
Yeah, neither do I. Years of being trained to listen for the threats in your sleep will condition a man.
Now, I don’t think I’ll get a lick of sleep until I know what the hell is going on with my girl.
She grew up with more money than people know what to do with in their lifetime.
Not to mention the opportunities that were laid out in front of her.
For her to end up here makes no sense. But like I said, maybe she’s just here helping out her grandmother for a bit.
I look up, wishing my girl would show herself again. God, she’s so damn pretty. Not sure how I’m supposed to drive away from her again. I don’t think I can breathe without her.
Finally, Wren comes walking out of the kitchen, this time carrying a mop and a bucket.
Tension rolls down my shoulders as I watch her scrub the floors.
My girl isn’t supposed to be cleaning; she’s supposed to be cooking in the finest restaurant.
She’s supposed to be traveling the world and dining in the most exquisite places.
She’s supposed to be chasing her damn dreams. I’m about to climb out of my truck and go bang on the glass door, needing answers, but a sparkle catches my eye and has my hand freezing on the handle.
I look down to her left hand and see a diamond sitting on her ring finger.
A big fucking diamond that can’t be missed.
Fuck! My girl’s engaged. A fact that should bring me joy.
It’s what I wanted, after all. What I’d hoped for when I wrote her that shitty letter.
I wanted her to move on with her life, to find someone and be happy.
I wanted her to have the family she always wanted.
But the roaring pain ripping through me hates the fact.
Deep down, in the recesses of my hope, I didn’t want it to be possible.
I wanted to believe that what we had was everything.
That our connection was soul bound and never to be broken or matched.
I was desperately wishing to show up and find her single.
I spent the night playing it out in my head.
But it feels like I’ve just been handed a life sentence in purgatory.
The fucking monster who’s responsible for this, the one who stole my life and ripped her away from me is going to feel every bit of my pain.
I’m going to make it to where he’s begging for me to take his life.
And then…I’m going to have his ass thrown in prison and let Red show him what fears are made of.
I’m not sure what the hell to do. The decent thing would be to start my engine up and drive on out of here, let her live her life without stirring up old shit and creating problems for her in her new life.
But the devil inside, the one jaded from what I’ve seen, the one who loves this girl with all my fucking heart, wonders what would happen if she saw me.
I wonder what would happen if I told her the truth: how the letter was all a lie.
If I explained the reason I sent it. I should at least apologize, shouldn’t I?
I shouldn’t let her go on believing the lie.
The corruption that bleeds inside my bones has me searching my phone for the nearest place to stay, so I can get showered up and clean for when I reconnect with my girl. I’m typing in my search when Monk’s text buzzes in.
Monk: Looks like your girl owns the diner.
Bought the place four years ago. By the way, the address I sent you last time is wrong according to what’s listed on the tax records for the diner.
Looks like she lives at 512 Forrest Point Drive now.
Her previous listed address is the house she inherited from her grandmother.
As of two years ago, she started renting it to a woman named Fran Farley. You need anything else?
And I’m guessing the reason she’s moved is because she met someone and moved into his place.
Fuck me. That means they’ve been living together for two years.
Which means they met sometime before that.
Which means…she got over my ass real fucking quick, didn’t she?
If my math is correct, it took her no more than two years to move on from me. And now, I’m fucking furious.
Yet, what did I fucking expect? I made myself out to be the biggest asshole on the planet.
I made it easy for her to get over me. I’m sure the guy who gave her that huge-ass ring has made damn certain she knows how incredible she is.
Because she’s fucking amazing. Sweet. Smart.
Beautiful inside and out. Grounded, and so fucking good in bed.
God, I would beat myself off to the memories of our time together.
Me: Thanks, man. Appreciate it. Just one more thing. Can you find out who she’s engaged to?
Monk: If you’re okay with me hacking into her phone, I can find out everything. When she met him, all their text conversations. How much he has in his bank account.
Judging by that huge rock on her finger, I’m sure he’s got plenty in his account. And I’m guessing he’s the reason she bought a diner in this town and set up shop instead of touring the world.
Me: Yeah, I’m fucking okay with it. Whatever you can get me will be much appreciated.
Monk: Shouldn’t take more than a few days. I’ll be in touch.
A few days? I’m going to be waiting on the edge of my seat.
I want to find out everything about the guy who slipped in and stole her from me.
And then… I’m going to figure out how to steal her right back.
Yeah, I’m fucking psycho, but ask me if I give a shit.
Told ya they bred a criminal inside. Now, it’s time for me to go find a place to stay so I can get ready for my girl.
In fact, I think I’ll contact a realtor and see about buying something.
I plan on making myself as a permanent fixture in Wren’s life.
Then we’ll see what happens. May the best man fucking win.