Claiming Menace (Ruthless Sinners MC 5)

“Yes, sir. I most definitely will.”

“And don’t get too carried away with the seasoning. The vegetables and meat have all the flavor you need.”

“Okay, got it.”

He’d just reached over to turn up the heat on the burner when we heard the sound of gunfire coming from the front of the diner. I turned to Mr. Brant as I gasped, “What the hell was that?”

“You need to get to the hideaway.”

“What?” I shrieked.

“It might be them! You need to go.” Peter took a hold of my arm and pulled me over to the cabinet that hid the secret staircase. As he opened it, he whispered, “If something happens, there’s a car waiting for you at the salvage lot.”

“What?”

“Find Allen. He’ll make sure you get what you need.” When the sounds of gunfire got closer, Peter gave me a nudge. “You gotta go now!”

“I’m so sorry, Peter. I’m so, so sorry.”

He gave me a wink as he said, “We’ve all gotta go sometime.”

Without saying anything more, he closed the hidden door, locking me away in the darkness. I crouched down, listening in horror to the screams and gunfire erupting above me, and it was all I could do to keep my sanity. I just wanted it to end. It had to end.

I shot up in my bed, gasping for air as I tried to break free from the nightmare’s grasp. When my breaths finally slowed, I dropped back on the bed and fought the temptation to cry. I needed to think of something else—anything else. It was the only way I could ease the tightness in my chest. I rolled over, clutched my pillow, and cried myself to sleep.

The next morning I woke up feeling a bit out of sorts, so I went to the living room to watch a little TV. It did little to improve my mood, so I decided to take a shower. As soon as the warm water hit my skin, I started thinking about Menace. It was impossible not to imagine what it would be like to shower right along with him. I leaned forward, letting the hot water cascade down my head as I thought about his hands roaming possessively over my body, his mouth trailing kisses along the curve of my neck, and the bristles of his day-old beard prickling against my skin. It was a delicious fantasy, but that’s all it was—a fantasy. I knew nothing could come of Menace and me, but it sure was better than obsessing over my past.

I forced myself out of the shower, dried off, and got dressed. I needed to get out of the house for a bit, so I decided to go grab some lunch and a coffee before work. I was still learning my way around Nashville, and the traffic was a nightmare, so I took my time and tried not to get flustered when every red light stopped me. There was a time when venturing out in an unfamiliar place would have me practically hyperventilating. I’d spent so many days scared and feeling like my world was coming to an end. I was tired of looking over my shoulder and of being afraid. I wanted things to be different, and I truly felt like things were ever since I’d moved to Nashville. Maybe it was the fact that Peter had sent me here, that he trusted the Ruthless Sinners; with Menace and the other brothers, I didn’t feel as terrified every second of every day. In fact, I felt a little stronger, a little braver, and I liked the feeling. I liked it a lot. I held on to that as I pulled into a parking lot next to an adorable little coffee shop.

I got out of my car, rushed up to the door, and the second I opened it, I was hit with the most amazing aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I was on my way up to the counter when I noticed the waitress, a beautiful brunette with crystal-blue eyes, was talking to a young man sitting at the counter. He looked to be about fifteen or sixteen, and it was easy to tell by his dark hair and similar olive skin that he was the waitress’s son. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to hear her as she said, “I don’t want to hear it, Corry. You know how I feel about you hanging out with those boys.”

“I know, but they’re my friends, Mom. And we’re just going to the game. It’s not a big deal.”

“Maybe not to you, but it’s a big deal to me.” Her tone softened as she whispered, “I trust you, but I can’t say the same for them.”

“You’re really not gonna let me go?”

“No, I’m going to let you go, but I want you to call me and let me know how things are going. And when the game is over, you are to come straight home. No goofing around and doing things you aren’t supposed to.”