Reckless Road

by Christine Feehan

  The women laughed, in no way deterred or remorseful. Others in the line laughed or smiled as well. Caspar was a small town, and for the most part, those who resided there knew one another. This time of day, late afternoon, most of the shoppers were locals and retired.

  “What is that young man’s name again, dear?” Talia Barber asked. “I couldn’t quite hear it.” She made a face at the other women for talking so low.

  Zyah knew Talia Barber lived two houses down from Jane. She owned a large piece of property with her husband, Lars. They had a main house they lived in, and had a second cottage they rented to a woman named Maggie Arnold, who, like them, was in her late sixties. They had a huge garden, mostly flowers, some very rare. Zyah had learned quite a bit about the garden from the Dardens.

  “He’s called Keys, and he’s very nice. They all are, and they really have helped me. It’s been kind of difficult finding help. They come in and stock shelves sometimes and unload the trucks when they come in for Inez. I really appreciate that.”

  “That’s what Inez told us,” Chiffon said. “Inez always knows everyone.”

  Zyah rang the next customers up faster, hoping to keep the line moving so the women would stop matchmaking and head home. Apparently, they had a quilting class to go to, which she wanted to tell her grandmother about. Anat liked to sew, and she might find something like that very fun. It seemed quite a few of the women either knew her or knew of her through Inez or Lizz.

  The rest of the afternoon and evening passed in a long blur of work. Zyah enjoyed the various customers. She was getting to know the regulars and liked most of them. Like Sea Haven, Caspar was mainly a small town made up of retired people, but there were some younger families moving in. Real estate wasn’t cheap. The views of the ocean were breathtaking, and many couples had bought homes specifically with the idea to retire there after working in cities.

  Not everyone had tons of money. Many people had homes they were trying to hang on to, with minimum-paying jobs. Some, Zyah could tell, were tired of fighting the usual drug and alcohol problems, while others were determined to beat the odds. There was a community center where people came together with all sorts of ideas, and she’d been invited to just about every kind of function there was. It surprised her that in such a small town, there were so many diverse activities for the very young as well as the very old.

  She called her grandmother several times a day to check on her. Anat always sounded cheerful—sometimes tired, but always cheerful. When she asked about Player, he was always resting, with one of the Torpedo Ink members looking after him, and Steele had come by to see him twice a day religiously. She didn’t know why, but she always felt a little twinge of jealousy, as if Steele were taking her place. She should have been grateful, but instead she felt as if she needed to rush home and claim the man for herself.

  Night fell and she closed the store and made her way to the restaurant, Keys following her. She was used to the escort now and no longer resented any of the Torpedo Ink members shadowing her. She felt safer with their presence. She found it astonishing how quickly she’d adapted to the club.

  The restaurant was on the smaller side, an intimate experience, not meant to feed a huge crowd. Alena had wanted to provide something special for her clientele. She didn’t advertise. In fact, she’d been so nervous about her opening that she’d practically told the club not to let anyone else know the restaurant was opening its doors.

  The building was rectangular, mostly made of glass, built up on the hillside so that it had the view on one side of the distant ocean and on the other of the climbing slope leading up to the highway. The slope was covered in wildflowers and lilac and lavender bushes, with stairs meandering through the overgrown shrubbery all the way up to the flat top.

  Tables were scattered throughout the room, with space between giving the clients plenty of privacy for intimate conversations. The chairs were comfortable and inviting, the tables solid and carved by Player, Master, Maestro and Keys, all of whom owned a construction company together but, more importantly, had a deep affinity for woodworking and created beautiful, unique pieces of furniture.

  The overhead chandeliers and wall sconces were simple but beautiful, tasteful handblown glass by Lissa, the wife of Casimir, one of the Torpedo Ink members. Lissa was famous for her artwork and sold it all over the world. Lana had sewn the tablecloths and napkins, white with gold threads running through them. Lana had also been the one to choose the chairs for the tables. Anya had helped with the inside design of the restaurant itself.

  There was a second room, equally as beautifully appointed, held in reserve for members of Torpedo Ink and locals who were good customers and came in without a reservation. Alena tried to accommodate them if at all possible. The restaurant was small, but it was very upscale, and the prices reflected that. Zyah didn’t know what she had been expecting, but when she went over the menu, she was a little surprised at what was offered.

  She didn’t recognize any of the three waitresses, although the youngest looked familiar to her, as if she’d seen her in passing. All three smiled at her and sent Keys a quick acknowledgment.

  “I don’t know them.”

  “Darby,” Keys said, indicating the youngest waitress. “Czar’s girl. Scarlet, Absinthe’s wife. She’s the one with all the red hair. And that’s Soleil, Ice’s wife. Everyone pitches in when it gets really busy. We’re looking for help, but Alena’s very picky.” There was laughter in his voice. “She only serves wine here, not hard drinks, so no bartender.” He kept walking, taking her back to the kitchen. “Alena really does need help. Eventually, she’ll have a full bar, but at the moment, she just doesn’t have the help she needs.”

  Zyah could see that. Every table was filled. There was a line of hopefuls waiting. Word of mouth had spread fast. Alena had her two brothers, Ice and Storm, chopping vegetables for her, and it was clear they knew what they were doing. In one corner, a man she didn’t recognize was putting the finishing touches on two plates right before he rang a bell and Lana collected the dishes.

  “Thanks, Glitch.”

  Glitch turned to catch four more plates Alena put in front of him with four different meals on them. It was fascinating to watch the man finish off the plates. Each type of meal was treated to a different look, one that enhanced the beauty of the presentation.

  Alena flashed her a smile. “Glitch is a genius. Who knew?”

  Glitch didn’t look up, but he smiled as he finished off the dishes and rang for Darby. He was very fast.

  “Did you train for that somewhere?” Zyah asked.

  Glitch shook his head as he started on three more Alena had put in front of him. “Watch a lot of cooking shows. They fascinate me.”

  Alena turned her head for a brief smile. “He’s really good.”

  Glitch looked pleased but kept working fast. Zyah moved to a spot in the corner to better observe. She could see that the four of them, Ice, Storm, Glitch and Alena, worked smoothly together, but Alena definitely needed more help in her kitchen.

  The back door swung open and a man stepped in, looking coolly confident. His gaze swept the room, smirking a little as he observed Ice and Storm chopping vegetables. He came boldly inside, his Diamondback colors sitting easily on his back. Ignoring the sudden tension in the room and the fact that the twins stopped chopping, he strode right up behind Alena as she was working and dropped a kiss on her neck. He acted as if he had every right to her, deliberately circling her waist with his arms and pulling her body into his possessively.

  “Alena.” He nuzzled her neck. “You’ve been working every damn night. This was supposed to be our night.”

  Zyah felt the instant tension in the room. She didn’t need her shoes off, or her direct connection with the earth, to know that every one of the members of Torpedo Ink, with the exception of Alena, was immediately on edge—and this man not only knew it but wanted them t
o be. He was openly taunting them.

  Keys very gently guided Zyah deeper into the corner of the kitchen and glided in front of her, shielding her with his body, as if there might be a fight, or he didn’t want the other man to get a good look at her.

  “Pierce.” Alena’s voice was soft with laughter. With something very close to affection. More than affection. “Honey. I’m working.”

  “Yeah. I see that. What are you supposed to be doing?” There was an edge of anger in Pierce’s voice. Hurt.

  Zyah’s heart clenched. Pierce was trying to cover that hurt, but it was there, hidden beneath that arrogant surface of anger and deliberate taunting of the others. These were men and women bent on covering their feelings no matter the cost.

  “This is the third time, Alena.” He dropped his arms and stepped away from her just as she turned around, a look of dismay on her face.

  “Our date. We had a date tonight. I’m so sorry, Pierce.” Alena looked at him a little helplessly. She gestured toward the dishes she was working on. “I still don’t have any help. I thought by now I’d find someone, but I haven’t.”

  “You never prioritize any time for us. I’ve made the trip over here numerous times, but you won’t do one little thing I ask of you. And you can’t be bothered to remember when we have a date.” He backed up toward the door, not looking at the others in the room, as if he were too humiliated to do so.

  He was embarrassed, but not to the extent he was portraying to Alena. The hurt was very real, much more so than the humiliation. Pierce didn’t strike Zyah as a man who cared what others thought of him. It would be so rude to slip off her shoes in a commercial kitchen, not to mention unsanitary, but Zyah’s gift worked so much better when she was barefoot. She wanted to get an understanding of Pierce’s true feelings for Alena and Torpedo Ink’s feelings about Pierce. The why of it all. The underlying reasons for the hostility. And there was real hostility between Torpedo Ink and Pierce. It came from both sides.

  Alena followed Pierce out the back door, closing it so they couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation. Ice swore under his breath while Zyah stepped around Keys and calmly surveyed the various dishes still cooking on the burners. Someone had to keep an eye on things while Alena was trying to put out fires in her personal life.

  Clearly, Alena found joy in her restaurant. Anyone could see that. Watching her expression while she cooked, while she put the assorted meals together, and feeling her energy made it very apparent: Alena not only loved what she did but she needed it as well. Zyah hoped Alena could make Pierce understand that she hadn’t meant to forget their dates while she was trying to get her restaurant up and running. She was working hard, pouring herself into it.

  Zyah certainly didn’t have Alena’s expertise, but she did have a certain understanding, thanks to Anat, of cooking times. She had good awareness of when foods were supposed to come off a grill or the heat. Instinctively, she pulled two of Alena’s pans from the heat.

  “Holy God in heaven,” Storm said. “Zyah, do you have a death wish? Alena doesn’t let anyone mess with her main dishes.”

  “They’re going to burn,” Zyah replied calmly, but her heart was pounding.

  “Damn it,” Ice exploded. “Who’s on her out there?”

  “Fatei, says she’s otherwise occupied right now,” Keys answered, letting Ice know another club member was watching her.

  “Do you want me to let it burn?” Zyah asked. “This chicken was for someone. Where’s the tag?” She found it and frowned, reading it.

  “No,” Storm said. “But she might kill us.”

  “Can you put it together like it’s supposed to be?” Ice asked.

  “I don’t know how. Do you have a picture? Glitch? Can you?” Zyah asked. “I think it’s chicken Kiev. They need to be drained immediately. I have to check that they’re done and not overcooked.” She did so carefully, checking for tenderness, willing each piece to be cooked all the way through but still be flaky. Thankfully they were, and they were filled with good richness inside. Definitely chicken Kiev, and a recipe she wanted, it looked so good.

  Glitch shook his head. “It always comes to me fully prepared. The plate, I mean. She has photographs of the finished dishes.”

  “Maybe there’s a description on the menu. Give me the menu and I’ll see what I can do. I’ll need the photograph as well.” Zyah wanted to run. She looked around, saw the nearest sink and washed her hands thoroughly while they scrambled to get the menu and photographs for her of the meal she needed to prepare fast.

  Zyah worked as quickly as she could, trying not to hear her heart pounding, following the description on the menu and the picture. She added steamed green beans and carrots topped with fresh whipped butter. She added rice pilaf cooked in chicken broth, with a few sprigs of parsley. When she was satisfied she had the four dishes as close to perfection as possible, she sent them to Glitch to finish off and turned to look at the next tags. It was better than looking at either Storm’s or Ice’s face.

  “You did good,” Storm whispered. “Alena would hate it if her customers had to wait or if she burned something she couldn’t repair. You did your best to help her out. That’s all she’s going to see. It’s on her if she chose to try to keep that stupid relationship going.”

  “It’s obviously not stupid to her,” Zyah whispered back as she looked at the next tag. This one looked much simpler. Only two plates. Both were the same. She could handle these with more confidence. “Perhaps she wouldn’t feel so alone if you got behind her a little more.”

  Storm didn’t reply, and Zyah busied herself setting up the shredded beef with whiskey sauce, which was already prepared—she just had to make up the actual plates. That consisted of shredding the beef and putting it on a platter, adding the sauce on top of the meat, putting slices of fresh green apple and cheddar cheese on top. Around the sides she added the slices of avocado, lettuce leaf, thinly sliced beefsteak tomato, pickle spears, grainy mustard and thin slices of toast.

  By the time she’d handed the plates off to Glitch, Alena had returned, rushing in and looking stressed, harried and guilty all at once. She avoided her brothers’ gazes, hurrying to the sink to wash her hands and then to the stove.

  Zyah stepped hastily aside, moving quickly to put herself in the corner out of the way again, twisting her fingers together. She could see Alena was upset and mortified.

  “Did my chicken Kiev burn? Storm?” Alena turned to her brother. “My chicken? My shredded beef? What happened?”

  “Zyah dealt with it,” Storm said. “She did a pretty good job from what I saw too. Unless the customers drop dead, you might want to hire her.”

  Alena looked up, her gaze searching until it rested on Zyah. “Thank you. I really appreciate you stepping up. That’s not happened before.”

  Zyah nodded. “No problem. But I really do have to get home. My grandmother gets very anxious if I’m too late. Since the robbery, she’s been on edge.”

  “She does know that our brothers won’t let anything happen to her, right?” Alena said. “There haven’t been any other tries at getting into your house, have there?”

  “No, I’m sure you would have heard about it,” Zyah said. She was the one who was uneasy, not her grandmother. And it was mostly because she didn’t like being away from Player at night. It was strange that he didn’t seem to have the same kinds of episodes during the day that he had at night. He was in pain. He had the terrible migraines, but he didn’t have the breaks with reality that he had when he went to sleep. She didn’t want that to happen when she wasn’t there.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Alena said, falling into step with her. “I’m not like that. This restaurant really does matter to me. It does. It’s just that Pierce does too, and I’ve put him off so many times lately to get this business up and running. He’s been good about it . . .” She trailed off and rubbed the back of her neck,
frowning as she said the last.

  “Everyone’s entitled to a bad day, Alena. I’ve certainly had my share,” Zyah assured.

  “Well, if you ever want a second job, it’s yours,” Alena offered. “I mean it. I could use the help.”

  “Thanks. When I think my grandmother is safe, I’ll take you up on it.” She meant it too. She wasn’t someone who liked to sit around the house all the time. She was used to working long hours. And she didn’t want to brood about Player. It was going to hurt like hell when she had to let him go.

  They were on the floor moving between tables now. The soft murmur of people talking, clearly enjoying their food and the atmosphere, appealed to Zyah’s sense of harmony. Somehow, Alena’s state of mind jarred the notes just a bit, so the melody was that bit off. Something wasn’t quite right.

  “See that man sitting over there in the corner?” Alena whispered. “The one with the little boy who looks to be about two?” She indicated a very handsome man who was leaning toward a little boy with a mop of dark hair, wiping gravy from the child’s chin. “That man is trouble with a capital T. He comes in every week and sits at that table with his boy. And he’s nice. I know. I had Code check him out. Like the real deal. A good guy. He takes care of that boy by himself. The mother’s out of the picture. And he’s a firefighter. Works for the fire department. EMT on top of it.”

  “Why is he trouble?” Zyah asked. They were at the double doors of the restaurant. The doors were thick and beautifully carved. She touched the wood and instantly knew Player had been the one to carve the doors for Alena.

  “Look at Darby. Be casual about it. She’s Czar’s oldest girl. He adores her. The club adores her. And she’s looking at Mr. Firefighter. Mr. Dad. Mr. Super-Hot Guy.”

  Zyah glanced at Darby, and sure enough she was looking at the man with interest. More than interest. “How old is he?”

  “Unfortunately, not very old. He’s twenty-three. Had the kid when he was twenty-one. He’s smart and was already in school for firefighter, EMT and paramedic. He continues with his schooling. And he’s looking back at her. I can’t blame him. She looks older than she is. She works hard and she likes children. But Czar would kill him for looking.”