Before I can say anything, not that I have any idea what it could be, Warden strides back into the kitchen, his phone up to his ear and his gun already back in place. “Yeah, it’s all clear here.” He eyes me, taking me in completely with a clinical sweep of my body. “No, she’s fine. Safe.”
This time, the pause is longer and I barely stop myself from squirming right where I’m standing.
I have a feeling that I know who he’s talking to.
“Uh-oh,” Lara breathes out, “you’re in trouble.”
Even as I scoff, I know she’s right.
“Right. Of course, I’ve got her covered until you get here, son,” Warden says the last word while looking right at me.
My shoulders slump and my eyes slide to the floor. “Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
Warden goes to the door and pulls it closed as best he can. He examines the door and the lock, pulling a flashlight out of his pocket like a father figure MacGyver. Lara and I are stunned into silence.
That is until Warden looks our direction and asks Lara, “You have an alarm panel here. Did you forget to arm it?”
The accusation is clear. Then he stands at his full height and crosses his arms across his chest while looking at Lara like she’s on the chopping block.
Almost anyone else would be shaking in their boots. Not Lara.
She stands a little taller. “I can assure you that I turned the alarm on. I do it every night when I close up. It’s something I don’t miss because I have a daughter and her safety is paramount to anything and everything else.”
Even though it’s clear her words land, Warden doesn’t look entirely convinced. He arches an eyebrow and Lara scrunches up her face while pulling out her phone and muttering something I don’t quite catch.
After pulling the log up, which I catch a glimpse of, she shoves her phone into Warden’s face. “See?” Her voice is bordering on shrill, “I told you I always lock the door. Not only is my daughter upstairs, but this is my life, this is everything. All of my money, my future, my daughter’s future, is wrapped up in this bakery.”
Warden’s touch is gentle as he takes the phone from Lara. He scrolls down and then back up. Respect transforming his features. “I can see you’re telling the truth. I apologize, Ms. Lara.”
She blinks up at him, clearly surprised by his change in tone and deference. She glances at me and then back at him.
“The thought of my daughter-in-law, my daughter,” his voice is warm and my eyes fill with tears, “being in danger made me see red.” Lara looks at me and mouths ‘daughter-in-law’; all I can do is smile. He points out, “Looks like the alarm wasn’t triggered, but the code wasn’t put in either.” His voices soft, reassurance coating his words as he promises, “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Lara looks skeptical but makes a humming sound and nods in agreement. That’s when I hear the roar of the pipes approaching. Fast.
Warden takes a step away from me, gently pulling Lara back a step as well. I glance at them, seeing the distance and then my eyes lock on the door. Knowing I’m about to have one pissed off and worried biker on my hands.
“It’s too early for this shit,” I whisper more to myself than anyone else, but Lara still snorts behind me.
Damn it.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly as the sound of the pipes cuts off abruptly. When I hear the stomping, I brace myself.
Turner is the first one through the door, looking like an avenging angel ready to be the sword I wield. His eyes sweep over the kitchen until they land on me. He doesn’t soften, if anything his shoulders go more rigid. More afraid.
Because of what might have been.
Even though it didn’t happen.
I hold up my hands, not to ward him off, but to slow him down. “I’m fine. No one is here. I wasn’t in any danger. Warden was with me.” Internally I wince with my words because they’re true, but they’re not wholly accurate in terms of how the morning unfolded.
And I’m sure every detail will be coming out sooner than later.
Before he can say a word, more men in leather cuts come spilling in through the back door. They fan out through the room as if someone is going to come crashing in through a skylight somewhere with an impossible mission and messages that self-destruct.
I barely hold in my scoff of derision at the entire situation. The only reason I manage is because this comes from a place of love and loyalty. And don’t we all deserve a little more of both?
Ryker, Sidewinder, Playboy, Diesel, and Whiskey completely fill the space in the kitchen and I’m not strictly talking about physically. Their presence is large, partly because they came here on edge, raring for a fight.