Chapter 12

“What?” Jerry barks and jumps to his feet. “I’ll be right there.”

“What’s going on?” Melanie shakes her head, her eyes going over to their kids.

“There was an explosion at the diner. It’s on fire.”

“Drak.” I shake my fist with my phone in the air.

“Stay with the kids, Melanie.” Jerry grabs his gun belt, the one he always places on top of the armoire far away from curious hands, and slings it around his waist. “Let’s go.”

I call Drak as soon as we jump into Jerry’s police cruiser. He answers on the first ring.

“Where are you?” he barks.

“We’re driving that way now. Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?”

“Fucking hell, babydoll. You scared the shit out of me.” I can hear relief pouring through his words.

“Are you okay?” I snap back.

“Yes, I’m fine. How long until you get here?”

“Two minutes.” An unexpected sob rips from my throat. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

Drak’s voice is muffled as he says, “Help me up, fucker.”

“What?” I yell into the phone.

He groans and I suspect one of his buddies just helped him up off the ground, but why was he on the ground?

“Hurry, Jerry!” I yell from the backseat before we see the flames shooting up in the near distance.

“Oh my god,” Ma gasps from the front seat, her face turned away from me.

We slam to a stop in the middle of the street facing the diner. There are two motorcycles parked at the edge near the intersection with a third lying on its side, all three a safe distance from the fire quickly engulfing the farthest corner of the dining room.

I bounce against the locked door of the cruiser in an attempt to push my way out, screaming in frustration when I can’t get the door open.

Before Jerry can unbuckle his seatbelt, Drak is ripping open the door and yanking me into his arms, his face covered in soot. His body trembles as he locks me against his chest, his arms wrapped in a death grip around my back. “Thank god, you’re okay. I thought I lost you.”

“What happened to you?” I push against him, needing to check his body for damage.

He lets me go and frames my face, kissing me with fear-filled possession. “I’m fine. I was looking for you. Your car is in the parking lot and I thought you were trapped inside, and when I couldn’t find you, I thought they’d taken you.”

“Who?” Jerry stands beside us, his body rigid and face in full on cop mode.

“The fuckers from Sunday night.” The look Drak shoots my brother-in-law would disintegrate most men.

Jerry’s cheeks turn bright red with anger I’ve rarely seen from him.

Ten feet away, Ma cries quietly—two strange females I don’t know comforting her—as the volunteer fire brigade drives up with their small truck that can barely handle a fire this size, followed by the local sheriff and two other deputies.

Why are they only getting here now, and who called Jerry to alert him of the fire, if not them?

“But why? Why would they set fire to the diner if they wanted to use it?” Jerry hisses through his clenched teeth, keeping his voice low, his eyes turning toward the other deputies as they approach our little group.

“Damn shame,” the sheriff says, tilting his head toward the diner. “Looks like a portion of the dining room will be unusable for a while.”

“Thank god no one was hurt,” another deputy says as the volunteer firefighters, all three of them, rush to put out the flames.

“They could have been.” Jerry eagle-eyes him. “My sister-in-law and her friends were scheduled to have dinner there tonight. If she’d been able to leave the house when she wanted to, she would have been here.”

The sheriff turns his gaze to me. “With no dining room, I guess you’re out of a job? Might be time to look for other opportunities.”

My blood runs cold as I put the pieces together. Danny’s nondescript job offers, Drak seeing them running from the diner, and now the sheriff, who we all know is crooked, is making an off-handed comment like this. Did they set the fire to Ma’s diner to kill my job?

Drak wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me back against his chest. “She doesn’t need a job.”

“You must be the bikers from Maplewood.” The sheriff’s eyes roam over the men assembled. “You boys are far from home.”

“We know who did this, if you plan to do anything about it.” I surge forward, which only causes Drak to tighten his grip and pin me harder against his chest.

“No, we don’t, babydoll. We didn’t see anything. The diner was already on fire when we rolled up.”

I crank my neck to stare daggers at him. What’s he saying? He just told us…

The sheriff smiles. “We’ll launch a thorough investigation, but if there are no witnesses, there really isn’t much we can do.”

Goddammit. They’re going to get away with it. Just like they got away with burning down Saint Sinners last January. It’s infuriating enough to make me want to cry big, angry, frustrated tears. Where’s the justice? How can this be happening in America, the land of the free? Corruption wins and good people like Ma lose? This is bullshit, and I can’t believe Drak is okay with it.

I shake my shoulders and he loosens his grip on me, letting me turn to face him. Tears fill my eyes as I shake my head, my lips trembling as I hold back the flood of emotion threatening to spill out of me. “I need to check on Ma.”

Reluctantly, he lets me go.

I push through the deputies and grab Ma, holding her tight as we both break down and sob.