by Toni Blake
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He was a cop. But he also felt, in his gut, that he needed to be a brother to Lucky right now. He needed to be the big brother he hadn’t been in a very long time. “Okay,” he let out softly.
Lucky released a long, almost painful sounding breath and said, “Mike, I killed a guy.”
The words hit Mike in a hot wave that nearly flattened him, leaving him light-headed.
“But it was in self-defense—guy pulled a knife on me. And then he turned it on my best friend.”
Mike steeled himself. Tried not to feel emotional. Tried to just think clearly. “Anybody see it happen?”
“Only my friend Duke. The guy who owns Gravediggers—the one you were about to fight when I came in that night.”
Mike nodded shortly. “He trustworthy?”
“True blue. He got in the fight trying to save me.”
“Anybody else know about it?”
Lucky hesitated slightly. “Other guys in the club knew it was me or Duke or both of us. But we got the hell out of there and never looked back. And we never heard from them again.”
Mike thought it through a little more, then said, “Sounds like manslaughter at best. I’ll look it up to be sure, but I think the limit on that in California is probably seven years, ten at most. It’s been more than ten, right?”
Lucky nodded.
“That’s good enough,” Mike said, indeed more brother than cop right now.
They both peered back out over the lake again, and Mike felt a little sick on his brother’s behalf, finally asking, “You okay? About that happening?”
“No,” Lucky answered without missing a beat. “But better than I used to be.”
In response, Mike just sighed, gave his brother a pat on the back . . . and then he let his hand stay there, same as he would have when they were kids and Lucky needed him.
Tessa stood over her desk at the cabin, Amy and Rachel flanking her, as she showed them the sketches she’d done for Duke’s bar. “Wow,” Amy said, “you’re going to hang an entire motorcycle from the ceiling?”
“Yes, and it’s gonna be so cool.” Tessa was utterly excited about the idea. “Duke has this perfectly good bike, other than the fact that it doesn’t run and he doesn’t feel it’s worth repairing. So Lucky’s going to paint it—although he doesn’t know this yet—and it’ll be the centerpiece to Gravediggers’ new look.”
Just then, the doorbell rang, and Tessa went to answer it, finding Jenny and Sue Ann on the other side. “Hey, come on in,” she said merrily. They hadn’t been part of the original plan, but Tessa had invited them both at Miss Ellie’s today. “I’m so glad you guys could come on short notice.” Then she turned to Rachel. “Break out the wine coolers, Rach.”
“Mick never minds if I have a night out,” Jenny said. “And believe it or not, he’s partnering with my dad for a euchre tournament at the Dew Drop Inn tonight.” When Jenny and Mick had first gotten together, he and her dad had been like oil and water, but things had changed. In the same way Tessa saw things changing for Lucky right now.
“And I decided Jeff could do the daddy thing tonight,” Sue Ann reported. “He’s been out all day, and working late a lot, so Sophie’s been missing him. And frankly, I could use a night out—and a wine cooler. Hand it over, Rachel,” she said, heading to the kitchen on Rachel’s heels.
“Trouble in paradise?” Rachel asked Sue Ann loud enough for all to hear.
“Girls,” Sue Ann said, helping Rachel with the coolers, “in marriage, you go through great times and ‘eh’ times. But that’s what it’s all about. Fortunately, for me, the great times always come back, so it’s no biggie.”
Ah, even that warmed Tessa’s heart. To know that, come what may, people like Sue Ann and Jeff would always be together—that true love really did exist.
“And speaking of great times,” Amy said, turning her attention to Tessa, “you’re madly in love with Lucky Romo. I saw it written all over your face today, so don’t deny it.”
As the warmth of a blush climbed her cheeks, Tessa said, “Fine, yes—despite my quest for sex, it’s progressed to being a pretty big deal.”
Rachel and Sue Ann re-entered the living room to dole out strawberry coolers, and Rachel gave her a smile. “And I’m sure Lucky told you that he and Mike finally made up today. How great is that?”
What was also great, in Tessa’s book, was to suddenly have her friends being so supportive of her relationship with Lucky. A couple of months ago, she couldn’t have dreamed all this.
“Mick was thrilled to see Lucky,” Jenny announced.
“He said that?” Rachel asked, skeptical.
“Well, no,” Jenny admitted. “Mick never acts really excited about anything—except maybe sex, and me. But I could tell because he talked about him a lot. I’m really glad he has an old friend to reconnect with.”
“I’m glad for Lucky, too,” Tessa told her.
“And speaking of Lucky,” Sue Ann said, “can you say yowsa? No offense, Jen, but visually speaking, that man makes Mick look like a choirboy.”
From there, the banter went on, with lots of laughter and fun. By the second round of wine coolers, they decided to take the party out onto the deck. Tessa turned on the radio, loud enough for it to blast through the window, declaring this was one perk of not having any neighbors. Besides Lucky, of course, who was out tonight with Johnny.
And when “Whoomp! There It Is,” a party song that brought back memories of high school dances, suddenly burst through the window, Tessa followed her slightly intoxicated instincts and began to shake her hips a little.
“You go, girl!” Sue Ann said—and she began to “go,” too, dancing to the fast hip-hop beat with wine cooler in hand.
Soon, all five girls were singing and dancing on Tessa’s deck in the light of citronella candles. And in that fun, carefree moment, Tessa had to acknowledge to herself that life was good. A few months ago, she hadn’t felt that way. She’d refused to see that, despite all she’d lost, she still had so much. Her family. Her friends. Her health a lot of the time—and it was much better than it had been a few years ago. And now she had a man she loved, too. The least likely man she ever would have picked for herself, yet now she couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect for her.
There was something special, and utterly joyful, in letting herself go this way, in sharing such silly, easy fun with her girlfriends. And it hit her then: Without all you went through the past few years . . . you never would have reached this moment in time.
She wouldn’t be moving to this fun song, doing the bump with Rachel now; she wouldn’t be laughing as she watched Sue Ann dancing atop her patio table. She wouldn’t have this opportunity to realize how dear her friends were to her, or to remember all they’d been through together over the years.
And . . . whoa. Then something even bigger and grander hit her—hard.
In this moment, she was experiencing everything that made up what she’d come to think of as the Ellen Philosophy: Laugh. Dance. Think Positive. And she suddenly realized that those simple tenets held all the answers she’d been seeking all this time.
She’d been searching for ways to get past the limitations her disease had imposed on her, searching for ways not to let life pass her by—in tattoos, motorcycles, sex, the idea of skydiving. And before all that, she’d seen doctor upon doctor, not to mention holistic healers, herbalists, and more. And she liked her tattoo, and she liked Lucky’s motorcycle, and God knew she loved sex with Lucky—but in the end, it turned out the secret to happiness was much simpler than any of those things. Laughing, dancing, finding the joy in life; learning to expect the best instead of the worst. That was all it really took.
Of course, having Lucky enter her world had helped, but even before him, she’d had so much, and she’d spent so much time feeling as if it wasn’t enough—and it was. And now, having Lucky’s love on top of it . . . well, that was just the icing on the cake of her life. Really delicious icing. The kind t
hat made every bite so much sweeter.
A few nights after his father-and-son outing with Johnny, Lucky sat on his usual stool at Gravediggers, drinking a beer, thinking through all the recent changes in his life. He grew more attached to Johnny every time he saw him, and still couldn’t believe such a good, sweet kid had come from him. But then again, once upon a time he’d been a good kid, too. He just hoped to God nothing ever happened in Johnny’s life that would screw him up the way it had Lucky.
And now even he and Mike had mended fences as well. Shit—it was still hard to believe he’d told Mike everything. He’d planned never to do that, under any circumstances, and yet, suddenly, there it was, coming out of him. Somehow, in that strange moment, it had felt almost like they were little kids again, confiding in each other in the dark.
He’d felt like an idiot as soon as he’d told Mike; Mike could have easily turned on him, statute of limitations or not—but he hadn’t. And just like when he’d told Tessa about his time with the Devil’s Assassins, getting it off his chest yet again had felt even more freeing. It was like each time he got brave enough to tell the tale, it stripped away a little of the anguish still left inside him.
Last night, he and Tessa had even met up with Mike and Rachel at Dolly’s Café, right in the heart of Destiny, for dinner. They’d talked about normal things and Lucky had felt like a normal guy. They’d rehashed some good memories—and a few bad ones—but overall, he’d come away feeling closer to Mike, and like they were both really ready to put the past behind them. And Lucky had nearly fallen out of the booth when Old Mrs. Lampton, a little old lady who’d already been old when he was a teenager, passed by on her walker and, nodding to each of them, said, “Mike, Rachel, Tessa, Lucky,” as if he’d never even been gone.
“Hey, bud—how’s it going?”
He looked up just then to see Mick Brody pulling up the stool next to him. Before leaving the picnic on Saturday, they’d made plans to get together and catch up. “It’s going good,” he said. Because it was. It was going better than it had for just about as long as he could remember.
Lucky introduced Mick to Duke, who brought him a beer, and before long they were reliving old times. Both were forced to admit that their high school days hadn’t really been good times, but they’d had some fun together, and they’d looked out for each other a time or two.
Soon enough, Mick was confiding in him, admitting to Lucky that he hadn’t always been on the right side of the law, particularly in the years after Lucky had left Destiny. Lucky shared just a little about the Devil’s Assassins, since it sounded like both of them had come through some tough shit to get where they were now. “Getting into the MC, and then managing to get out of it, was a wake-up call,” Lucky told him.
Mick nodded. “The wake-up call for me was when Wayne was sent to prison.”
Lucky felt his eyebrows shoot up. “Prison, huh? I didn’t know that.”
“Armed robbery,” Mick said. “And I realized I didn’t want that to be me, so I turned things around.”
They both stayed quiet for a minute, pondering, Lucky supposed, how easy it would have been for either of them to have ended up there, too. A sobering thought. And one that didn’t make Lucky feel very proud.
Fortunately, Duke chose that exact moment to step up and say, “What’s the problem over here, brother? You got a chick you’re crazy about, a kid you dig, a family who forgave you, and a healthy business—thanks to me.” Then he turned to Mick. “Did he tell you that? Guy comes back here after something like sixteen years, with some paint guns and a garage, and I’ve sent him about fifty customers this spring. And I give him free beer half the time, too. Guy oughta be buying me beer.”
Duke’s boasting made Lucky let out a laugh, and he was glad to have the mood lightened.
He didn’t point it out, but Duke had left something off that list: Lucky also had a damn good friend in him. And it had been good to find Mick back in Destiny, too. Before the night was through, Mick even invited Lucky to bring Tessa over to the home he shared with Jenny on Blue Valley Lake for a cookout sometime this summer.
As Lucky put on his helmet and revved up his Harley, soon hitting the pavement toward Whisper Falls Road, it was hard to believe the loner’s life he’d lived a couple of months ago had turned into this. And it was hard to believe he felt so damn . . . good. Yeah, it was hard when he had to watch Tessa struggle with illness, and sure, there were still moments when he felt a little overwhelmed by it all, but when he imagined leaving this all behind now, turning the bike away from Destiny and never looking back—he knew he wouldn’t even make it to the county line.
He’d finally stopped running, for good this time.
Tessa remembered nights like this—she used to have them often. She was up late, working—joyously! It was almost midnight, but she’d gotten on a roll creating more designs for Gravediggers and hadn’t been able to make herself stop. For dinner, Lucky had made grilled cheese sandwiches and heated up some soup in her kitchen, then he’d watched TV while she’d worked in the same room.
About an hour ago, he’d said, “Babe, I’m gonna head up to my place and go to bed. You wanna come up when you’re done?”
She’d taken the time to stop, stand up, and give him a kiss. “Absolutely. And sorry I kind of ditched you tonight.”
He’d simply squeezed her hand and said, “No worries. I know how into your work you are and I get it.”
Ah, Lucky. He’d been a huge part of turning her life back into something that felt vital and productive lately. And he’d made her feel not only human again, and like a woman again, but like a very hot and sexy woman. And in that moment, a part of her wanted to drop everything and go hop into bed with her man—but she was excited about the changes she kept coming up with for the bar, and she was afraid if she stopped without getting them down, she’d lose them. So she worked, happy in the knowledge that when she finally ran out of inspiration, she could ease into bed next to him, snug and cozy, the perfect ending to a satisfying night.
Well, maybe hot sex would be the perfect ending. But they were reaching that comfortable place in their relationship where sometimes snuggling quietly felt “just right.” She smiled at the thought—then looked up upon realizing a vehicle had just stopped outside.
The cabin’s windows were open and the two houses were so isolated that when a car passed by on Whisper Falls Road this late at night, you noticed. And you also noticed if it didn’t keep going.
Walking down the hall into her bedroom, she peeked out at her driveway, yet all was quiet and empty but for her Nissan. Moving to a window at the rear of the cabin, she pulled back a toile curtain and looked up toward Lucky’s house—where, indeed, an unfamiliar car sat in his driveway.
Or was it unfamiliar? A bright moon shone down and, peering up at the older Camaro, she thought it looked like the same one that had delivered that guy, Red, to Lucky’s house to pick up his bike. And then the moon gave her a glimpse of Red himself, walking around the car, opening the trunk. Was she imagining it or was he purposely trying to be quiet? And what the hell was he doing at Lucky’s this late anyway?
She watched for a moment longer and though it wasn’t easy to see, she sensed the scraggly older guy skulking around Lucky’s garage in the dark. It was enough to make her heart pound painfully against her rib cage. Enough to make her pick up the phone. Then, on pure instinct, she even rapped on the window once, hoping maybe it would scare the guy off. After all, if he was here for a valid reason, he’d be knocking on the door. And she knew Lucky sometimes let people drop off and pick up bikes at odd hours, but he always waited up for them. Something wasn’t right here.
She was just about to dial Lucky’s number when a burst of light drew her attention back out the window—up to Lucky’s place. And—oh God!
It was a fire! One side of the garage had just burst into flames.
. . . what mystery, that broke out now in fire and now in blood, at the deadest hours of night?
Seventeen
Her hands began to shake now and she could barely breathe, and instead of calling Lucky, she dialed 911. Then watched as the Camaro suddenly went backing recklessly up the driveway and out onto the road.
“9–1–1. What’s your emergency?”
“My boyfriend’s house is on fire!” she said as the car went speeding away. “On Whisper Falls Road! Just up the hill from the bridge! Please hurry!”
“We’re sending help right now, ma’am. Are you in the house? If so, can you get out?”
“I’m not inside. I live next door.”
“Is anyone in the house?”
“Yes!”
But she had no idea what the 9–1–1 lady said next because that’s when she dropped the phone and went sprinting out the back door, barefoot, up the hill. The last time she’d gone dashing up through Lucky’s yard like this, she’d been chasing Mr. Knightley and met up with a big, scary biker. Now, that biker was the man of her dreams and she was running to save him.
“Lucky!” she screamed frantically. “Lucky, wake up! The house is on fire!” Cool dew made her slip and fall as she ran, but she picked herself up without thought and kept going. The bright flames at the garage began to grow higher, licking at the roof now, and she could hear the fire hissing and cracking as it spread. “Luckyyyy!”
Thankfully, the front door was unlocked since he’d been expecting her to come up—so she yanked it open and raced inside. In her rush, she tripped over the coffee table in the dark, falling, yelling out as the pain sliced into her knee, but pushed back to her feet and ran down the hall into Lucky’s bedroom, yelling all the way. “Get up! You have to get out! The house is on fire!”
Within seconds, she was shaking him awake and finally his eyes bolted open. Just in the short time they’d been together, she’d noticed he was a sound sleeper, and now he was disoriented. “Huh? What? What’s wrong?”