by A. M. Myers
It Ends Tonight
Bayou Devils MC
Book Four
A.M. Myers
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, places and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Design by Jay Aheer
Proofreading by Julie Deaton
Copyright © 2018 by A.M. Myers
First Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Chapter One
Quinn
“No!”
The scream rips through the silence, yanking me from a restless sleep and I jerk forward in bed as a deep, painful sob racks my body, taking me by surprise. My gaze flies wildly around the four walls of my bedroom before I realize that the monster chasing me only exists in my mind.
Shit.
It was just another dream.
Drawing in a stuttered breath, I press my hand against my clammy skin as tears well up in my eyes and my heart thunders in my chest. I focus on that – the feeling of my pulse beating relentlessly against my palm and the feeling of my skin under my fingertips to pull myself back to the present as the memories get pushed further from my mind. They are so strong but I won’t let them win. I can’t.
With a sigh, I run my fingers through my hair and fall back into the mattress. It cocoons me in its comfort and I let out another sigh, more stress seeping out of my system with each breath I draw in. Sunlight dances across the ceiling and birds chirp sweetly outside the window. It’s so idyllic that you would never guess that we’re in the heart of Baton Rouge right now but I suppose that’s why Gram chose this house.
My phone rings on the bedside table next to my head and I turn to look at it before sitting up and scooping it off the table. Scrolling through my notifications, I smile when I see the text from Willa, my assistant.
Willa:
Don’t forget.
Staff meeting at nine.
As I type out my reply, another message comes in and I laugh out loud.
Willa:
Don’t be late.
Me:
You know I can’t promise anything.
Grinning, I open my Spotify app and click on my country playlist while I wait for her reply. It comes as Born to Fly by Sara Evans begins playing.
Willa:
Well, you’re awake, at least.
That’s something.
My smile is wide as I shake my head and text her back, letting her know I’ll be in on time for our “staff meeting”. Staff meeting is a fancy way to describe our weekly rundown since it’s only Willa and I working at EQA Events these days but she likes to call them something official so I let her. Maybe it makes her feel better to give it a title since we spend an hour each week just drinking coffee, binging on donuts, and gossiping. Whatever the reason, I’ll let her call it anything she wants since she’s saved my ass more times than I can count in the past year.
Resolving myself to the fact that I can’t procrastinate anymore, I shove the comforter off my legs and stand up as the song changes to Give It Away by George Strait. I grin as I pull my tank top over my head and toss it toward the hamper on the other side of the room. There’s nothing quite like the king of country to lift my spirits in the morning. Singing along, I shimmy out of my panties and grab my phone off the bed as I walk across the room to the attached bathroom. The sight of the old claw foot tub Gram installed in here catches my attention and I frown.
Too bad I don’t have time for a soak this morning.
I imagine Willa’s freak-out if she knew I was even thinking about taking a long bubble bath and I grin as I set my phone down on the counter and turn toward the shower. It rings again as I turn the water on and I just shake my head. No doubt it’s one of the usual “you’re going to be late” texts she sends me every morning. Willa is the perfect assistant for me because my weaknesses are her strengths - like showing up on time. My internal clock is always running about five minutes slower than Willa’s but I just can’t help it. No matter how much I try to be on time, I always seem to be just a little late. She even tried to set the clocks in my house fast once and I still showed up to work a couple minutes late. Watching her throw her hands up and scream, “That’s it! I give up!” was one of the highlights of the week.
The song changes to Guys Do It All The Time by Mindy McCready and I grab my phone, turning it up before setting it back down and stepping into the shower. I hum along as I work the shampoo into my hair and dance in a little circle, careful not to fall on the wet tile. Once the conditioner is in my hair, I grab the loofa off of the hook under the shower head and start scrubbing my skin, my mood lifting more and more with each song that plays.
Modern Day Bonnie and Clyde by Travis Tritt echoes through the bathroom as my phone rings again and I whisper a curse. That’ll be Willa with my thirty-minute text and I need to be out of the shower already if I have any hope of making it on time. Hurrying, I finish scrubbing my body and wash my face before rinsing everything and turning the water off. I grab my towel and wrap it around my chest as I step out and snatch my phone off the counter. Sure enough, I have two texts from Willa.
I set my phone down and duck out of the bathroom before stopping in front of the closet and thumbing through the rack. When I finally find something I like, I toss it onto the bed and rush back into the bathroom to do my hair and makeup. As I dry my hair, I turn the volume on my phone up again, singing along to each new song that plays and by the time I’m done, I’m excited to tackle a new day - my rough start this morning forgotten.
Dr. Jeffers would be proud.
Tossing the towel in the hamper, I slip into a pair of panties and the matching bra before going back to the counter and curling my hair with big, bouncy curls. Satisfied, I return to the bedroom and grab the white tulle skirt and denim button up shirt I picked out earlier. My gaze flicks to the clock on the wall and I wrinkle my nose.
Shit.
Willa will be texting me any minute with my five-minute warning and I still need to grab my shoes and jewelry. Dashing back into the closet, I pick out my cream heels and a chunky necklace before walking back into the bedroom and sinking into the mattress. Sure enough, my phone rings as I slip my shoes on and I stand up, scanning the room as I fasten the clasp on my necklace. I can’t shake the sense that I’ve forgotten something but I don’t have time to look for it now. With my phone in hand, I walk downstairs, smiling when I hear the sweet cooing of the love of my life.
Hiding behind the wall to the kitchen, I peek around the corner and smile as I watch my daughter, Brooklyn, squeal and smash banana between her fingers. She blows a raspberry and my sister, Alice, giggles so she does it again.
“Brooklyn,” I call and her little head snaps up, her brows furrowing as she scans the room for me. Her little grunt when she can’t find me draws another giggle out of Alice.
“Where’s Momma, Brookie?” she asks her and Brooklyn scans the kitchen, frustration clear on her chubby little face. Placing a hand against my heart, I fight back the sadness rising up inside me. It seems like yesterday I was laying in a hospital bed, giving birth to her, but we just passed her first birthday and she’s growing more and more every day. Watching her learn and discover new things is my greatest joy and greatest sadness.
“Brooklyn,” I call again, stepping out from behind the wall and her gaze locks onto me almost immediately as she lets out another squeal.
“Mama!”
“Good morning, gorgeous girl. Are you being nice to your auntie?”
“Always,” Alice answers, making a face at Brooklyn that she tries to copy. We both laugh and I sigh.
“Hey, thanks for getting up with her this morning.” Alice is seven years younger than me and still in college but she didn’t hesitate to move her schedule around to help me out when Brooklyn was born. Now, she takes her classes at night so she can watch Brooklyn during the day while I work. It’s true what they say about it taking a village to raise a child and honestly, I don’t know what I would do without her.
“No problem, you know that. I am going to have to drop her off at daycare around three today, though. I have to go meet with my advisor.”
I nod. “That’s fine. I should get out of work shortly after that.”
My phone rings again and Alice starts laughing. “Willa’s going to lose her mind sending you all those texts every morning.”
“I think she automates them somehow but you’re right, I should get going.” I lean down and plant a kiss on top of Brooklyn’s head. “Have a good day with Auntie Alice, baby girl. I’ll see you later, okay?”
She reaches for me, chunks of smashed banana on her hands as she grunts. I take a step back, shaking my head.
“Mama.”
“Sorry, sweet girl, you’ll get Mommy all messy.”
She starts to fuss and I back away. “I’ll go before she gets really upset. Call me if you need anything today.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Alice says as she scoops Brooklyn out of her high chair. “We’ll be just fine.”
I nod, turning toward the door and grabbing my purse. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve left Brooke, I still get a tiny little pang in my chest each time I have to walk away from her.
“Love you!” I call over my shoulder and Alice repeats it as I duck out the front door and dig the keys to my Maxima out of my purse. The dense heat practically chokes me as I make the short trek between the front door and the driveway and I say a little thank you to the good Lord for air conditioning. Seriously, I wouldn’t survive without it - especially not down here in Louisiana.
As I back out of the driveway, I turn the radio on and flip it to the country station as I think about my day. Bubba Shot the Jukebox by Mark Chesnutt starts playing and I smile as I turn it up and pull out onto the street, singing along. The traffic is light as I pull onto the on-ramp and my phone rings, cutting off the music as Willa’s name pops up on the screen.
“I’m on the interstate!” I yell as soon as I press the button and her laugh rings out through the car.
“Good. That means I don’t have to yell at you today.”
I shake my head. “You know, I thought owning my own company meant I could make my own schedule.”
“Yeah, that’s true, but then you hired me.”
“Oh!” I exclaim dramatically. “I see where I went wrong now.”
Playing along, she gasps. “That’s fine, boss lady. See if I bring you any donuts today.”
“Wait! I'm sorry!”
She laughs as I take my exit. “Any preference this morning?”
“What was the one you got me last time?” I ask, my mouth watering just thinking about the donut she brought to last week’s staff meeting.
“Maple bacon.”
“Mmm,” I hum. “Yeah, get me a couple of those again.”
“You got it. See you in a few.” She hangs up as I turn onto the street that the office is located on.
“Yes,” I hiss, spotting the open parking space right in front of our door. Pressing my foot down on the accelerator, I whip my car into the spot and turn it off before I grab my bag and step out. Downtown is bustling with folks headed into work and it invigorates me as I turn to look up at the sign hanging above our entrance.
EQA Events.
Growing up, I never really knew what I wanted to do with my life other than have a family and be a mother but when I started working here with my grandmother, I discovered such a passion for party and event planning that it only made sense for me to take over the business when Gram retired. With the help of Willa, I’ve managed to expand the business into newer, younger clientele since taking over and I’m proud of all the things I’ve accomplished in the last year.
“You just going to stand there looking at the front door all day?” a voice yells and I glance down the sidewalk, glaring as Willa grins and approaches me with her hands full of donuts and coffee.
“Need help?”
She nods. “Yes, please.”
I take the drink tray from her and usher her into the building before following behind her. The office isn’t all that big but it’s enough for the two of us right now with a reception area and an office for me in the back. Willa flips the lights on and sets the donuts down on her desk.
“Come back when you’re ready,” I say as I pass her and step into my office with the coffee in my hand. A few moments later, she joins me and sets the small box of donuts down on my desk before opening it. The smell of sugar fills the room and I take a deep breath as I pull my coffee out of the tray and hand Willa her cup. When we’re all settled in with our breakfast and coffee, she pulls out her planner and I pull my calendar up on my computer.
“Okay, go through it for me.”
“First up, you have the final meeting with Jenna today to finalize plans for the children’s hospital fundraiser.”
I nod; double-checking that the time she rattles off matches my schedule as I take a bite of my donut.
“Speaking of, I’m going to need you there with me for the first part of the night, at least, but you should have the second half off if you want to bring a date,” I say, passing her the ticket I had put aside for her.
“Oh, I might just do that. What about you? You have a hot date for the event?”
I shake my head, scoffing. “No, I’m going to be working.”
“Not for the whole time. Besides, isn’t it about time that you get back out there?”
“Uh, no. I don’t think so.” My heart twinges as I turn away from her. “What do we have coming up the rest of the week?”
She sighs and relief rushes through me as she starts going over the schedule again, letting it go. It isn’t like Willa to let me avoid certain topics but this time, I’m glad she did. After my wake-up call this morning, the last thing I need to think about is my love life.
* * * *
“Ma’am,” the valet says as I step out of my car and hand my keys off to him with a smile. He waits for me to round the front of the car before he pulls out of the driveway to park it in the lot down the street and I walk into the historic hotel I secured for the charity event in two weeks.
“Miss Dawson,” Ronald, the manager, calls from behind the front desk as I step through the door and I smile as I cross the lobby to the desk and shake his hand.
“Hello, Ronald. Is everything ready for me?”
He nods. “Just about, Ma’am. I can take you to the ballroom now and someone will direct your client there when she arrives.”
“Lead the way.” I gesture for him to step in front of me with my hand and he rounds the desk before leading me further into the hotel.
“How is your day so far, Ma’am?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder at me and I smile.
“Pretty good. Yours?”
Nodding, he turns down a hallway and I readjust the binder in my arms as I trail behind him. “Very good. The sampler plates should be ready from the kitchen within the next ten minutes but as soon as I drop you off, I’ll pop in and check on them.”
“That would be perfect, Ronald. Thank you.”
“Of course, Miss Dawson,” he answers, stopping in front of two gorgeous cherry doors and pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. As he unlocks the door, I suck in a breath and take
in the ornate beauty of the building. When I first started planning this charity gala a few months ago, I wasn’t sure how well it was all going to come together since time was so short but we lucked out in a lot of ways and people have been eager to help the kids at the children’s hospital.
“Here we are,” Ronald says as the double doors swing open and the ballroom comes into view. It never fails to take my breath away. The room is extravagant without being gaudy and you can just feel the history of the hotel when you step into the room. It’s one of the reasons I worked so hard to secure this venue.
My phone buzzes with a text and I unlock the screen.
Jenna Bueachamp:
Running ten minutes late.
“My client is running a little late so I’d love to check in on the kitchen with you if you don’t mind, Ronald,” I say as I look up at him and he nods.
“Of course, Miss Dawson. Follow me. I’ll send my assistant to the front desk to wait for Miss Bueachamp.”
I nod, setting my binder down on one of the tables filling the space. “Perfect. Let’s go, then.”
Ronald leads me back to the kitchen. There’s a flurry of activity surrounding us as we make our way through the employees all rushing around to prepare the tasting menu for Jenna and I. When we reach the back office, Ronald knocks on the doorjamb.
“Chef, I have Miss Dawson for you.”
Chef Thomas’s head jerks up and he stands, rushing over to us with an outstretched hand. “Miss Dawson, lovely to see you again. Is there a problem?”
“No, not at all. I was just hoping to go over a few things with you.”
He nods, motioning to the chair positioned in front of his desk. “Of course.”
I sit down and pull up the notes app on my phone before asking him about his plan for the day of the event.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Miss Dawson.”