Chapter 13

The fire’s out, the volunteers and deputies are gone, and Ma has collected everything she can from the office, piling it into the back of Jerry’s cruiser. Missy won’t look at me, as if I’ve betrayed her by not offering my eyewitness account of Danny and Tony fleeing the scene. She doesn’t understand that if the sheriff is in on it—and I’m absolutely certain the fucker is—he’ll take witnesses as a direct threat and they’ll be coming after us no matter where we go.

I’m all for vengeance, but first I have to make sure my woman is safe. Even if the sheriff is a corrupt cop, he’s still a cop, and these things have to be handled with a level of diplomacy above my pay grade. I hate to admit it, but Aldis was right. We don’t want to invite trouble into our small town or our clubhouse, although we won’t turn a blind eye to its existence and we will answer the call if they come knocking. That the sheriff referenced us as the “bikers from Maplewood” told me everything I need to know. We’re on their radar and the more often we are seen riding through their territory, the more harassment we’re going to get.

I have to get Missy out of here, but first, I need her to talk to me.

“Is that everything?” I ask Ma as I hand Triton a box of files.

She shakes her head. “I’m not sure what to grab and what not to, but I fear everything will be stolen by the morning if we don’t take it all.”

“Look, Ma. Here comes Mr. Tom,” Missy says, pointing to a flatbed truck with a stockpile of plywood backing into the parking lot.

“I guess we’ll be able to board up the windows after all. Does the storage room have a lock on it?” I take control of the situation, needing to take care of Missy and Ma and keep my hands busy. Otherwise I might lose all control, throw Missy over my shoulder, and spank the attitude out of her.

“There is a lock, but I have no idea where the key is.” Ma glances around her disheveled diner and sighs.

“Okay, why don’t you grab all the pots and pans and things easily picked up and move them into the storage room? I’ll go ask Mr. Tom if he can grab us a new lock and key.”

Missy looks up at me with big eyes, her anger dimming with each passing second. “Thanks.”

“I got you, babydoll.” I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and kiss her temple. “Go take care of Ma, and later I’ll take care of you.”

She walks back into the kitchen and I turn to Triton and Chance. “Let’s help the old man secure this building.”

Two hours later it’s dark out, the windows are boarded up, a sign for the customers is posted on what’s left of the door, and we have everything as secure as we can given the late hour. Mr. Tom, who conveniently owns the local hardware store, offers to take Ma home. I say thanks and goodnight to Chance, Triton, and their ladies, who have an hour-plus ride back to Maplewood. Missy sits on the hood of her Mustang, eating the last piece of the pie the rest of us demolished after all the work was done. Jerry waves as he pulls away, having already asked me if I was strapped.

Of course, I am.

My bike is scratched up, the front fairing and engine guard bent from when I dropped it on the ground, but it’s rideable. I walk over to Missy who, without looking up at me, offers me the last bite of pecan pie.

I refuse. “Are you going to talk to me?”

“Do you think this was my fault? Did they set fire to Ma’s dining room to put me out of a job?” She pops the bite in her mouth.

“I don’t know, babydoll. Maybe, but regardless, this is not your fault.”

She sighs and throws the empty pie tin and fork in the bushes. “I know why you couldn’t tell the sheriff who did this. I understand, but it still makes me mad.”

“Justice is rarely served swiftly, but I promise you, they will get what’s coming to them.”

Missy brings her eyes up to mine. “How?”

“You don’t need to know that. Like Jerry said last week, the less Ma knows, the better. That goes double for you.”

“Are you going to exact vengeance for me?”

“I take care of what’s mine. You, Missy, are mine.” I cup her cheeks in my hands and lean down to place a tender kiss on her lips. Looking her in the eye, I whisper, “The question is, how difficult are you going to make this on me?”

“What do you mean?” she whispers back.

I take a step back and reach into my inside vest pocket before getting down on one knee. “Marry me.”

Missy’s eyes bug out as she looks from the ring to my face. “What?”

“I wasn’t going to do this after everything that happened tonight, but I need you to understand how serious I am and that this was my plan all along. You need to know that I want forever with you before I beg you to move in with me, and understand that you becoming my wife is what I want most in this world.”

She slides down the hood of her car until her feet hit the ground. “Are you sure?”

“I bought the ring yesterday, babydoll. Hours after you left. I slept for shit thinking about it all night, and how it didn’t feel right to not have you in my bed.” I grab her hand, sliding the ring over her first knuckle. “Marry me, Missy.”

Her lips part, but nothing comes out as she nods her head.

I grin and slide the ring all the way on. “I’ll take that as a yes.”