Kane's Ransom: A BWWM Mafia Romance Novel (2 page)

At those words, Killian paid cash on the spot.

Soon, however, thanks to the powerful motorcycle engine between his legs, he began to see buildings popping up, the signs of a town still hanging on. He rode in past the gas station, past the little corner store and market, letting the motorcycle coast as it slowed down. The loud revving of the engine drinking in plenty of gasoline was replaced by a softer rumble as it idled along.

Finally, he reached his turning point - a diner, looking as though it had been teleported straight out of the 1950s. The white painted exterior was faded a little, the once-bright red sign having lost chips and flecks of paint, but it still looked welcoming, in a homey small-town sort of way. About half the parking spots in the lot were filled, some of them by large trucks as their drivers stopped for a bite to eat before continuing on their way.

Killian rolled his bike into one of the open parking spots, cutting the engine and sitting for a moment, listening to the metal slowly cool down in the still-chilly desert air. After a minute, however, he sighed, kicked out the kickstand so that the bike wouldn't topple over, and stood up. His long leg swung easily off of the vehicle, a smooth motion that he'd practiced many times.

Giving his leather shoulder bag a tap to make sure that the laptop computer inside remained secure and together, Killian headed into the diner.

He knew the drill, by this point. He didn't bother waiting for a hostess to come seat him as he pushed in through the swinging glass door. As the warm smells of coffee and freshly cooked breakfast food cuddled his nose, and the ringing and clinking of plates and silverware bounced into his ears, he headed for a booth over in the corner, on the right side. The surrounding booths both contained hungry customers, but Killian's target was empty, kept reserved for its regular patron.

Killian settled into the seat, dropping his bag on the cracked and faded leather bench next to him. He popped open the clasp that held the flap of the shoulder bag shut, sliding his big hand inside delicately to withdraw his thin computer. By the time he had pulled the computer out of its enclosure, however, he wasn't alone at the table any longer.

"Mornin', Mr. Kane!" greeted the young woman in the starched, blue-and-white sundress and apron, standing in front of his table and bouncing a little on the balls of her feet in her flat shoes. "And how are you feelin'?"

Despite himself, Killian couldn't help but smile at the warmth in that Southern twang. "Good morning, Alicia," he replied, setting his computer down on the table in front of him. "The usual, I think."

The young woman threw back her head and laughed, showing a flash of bright white teeth as she smiled. They contrasted sharply, but not in an unpleasant way, against her mocha skin, Killian found himself noticing.

"You always choose the same thing, you know that?" she commented, smiling at him. "Every time, you think about it, but it's always the same order in the end."

"Guess I'm just a creature of habit," he admitted.

The waitress, Alicia, shook her head, but kept the smile. "Oh, it's fine by me," she said, turning to head back towards the kitchen to put in his order. "I'll have your coffee out in a minute, Mr. Kane."

For a moment, Killian watched her sashay away, his thoughts distracted, but he soon pulled himself back to his computer. He opened up the laptop and, after entering his password, slowly and carefully began to type.

Chapter two

Killian had only managed to type out a few sentences by the time that Alicia came back, once again flashing him her pretty little smile as she set down a steaming cup of coffee. He opened his mouth to ask for cream, but she produced a little metal carafe before he could speak, setting it down beside the cup.

"Please, Mr. Kane, I know what you ask for," she pointed out, giving him a little wink to let him know that she didn't mind the routine. "You've been coming in here every day for weeks. I know your schedule."

"Oh?" Killian replied, raising his eyebrows as he glanced down at the menu. "Do you know what I'll order, then?"

He watched with amusement as the grinning young woman crossed her arms beneath her bosom, tapping at her full lower lip with the tip of her pen. "Well, let's see," she mused slowly. "You do like the French toast, but you had it a couple of days ago. Usually, you don't go for the heavy meat dishes, and I don't think you've suddenly woken up today with a hankering for a ton of ham or steak."

Killian did his best to keep his poker face, but from the way that Alicia regarded him, he guessed that he wasn't managing to succeed.

"And you prefer to eat healthy, but you also want something that can fill you up for a long day of poking away at those keys," Alicia finished. She picked up the menu from Killian's hand and pretended to examine it. "So I conclude that you'll be ordering..."

She paused for dramatic effect, and Killian pretended to tap out a drumroll on the table with his fingers. He saw Alicia roll her eyes at the act, but she couldn't keep a grin off of her face.

"...a chicken, spinach, and cheese omelet, with a side of potatoes and whole grain toast!" she finished, taking a step back from the table and executing a mock little bow.

Honestly a little surprised, Killian gave her a little golf clap. "Not bad, young lady!" he said, feeling impressed. "Maybe I do need to be varying my habits a bit more, if a young woman like you can guess what I'm going to do before I've even made up my own old mind!"

"Hey, you're not that old," Alicia countered. As she turned away, she gave him one last little smile over her shoulder. "If you asked me out, I might give you a chance!"

She ducked away to put in Killian's order to the kitchen, as he tried to pick his jaw up off of the floor.

For a moment, his commitment to staying alone, keeping himself and those around him out of trouble, wavered a little. He guessed that he was probably at least a decade older than the cute little chocolate-skinned waitress, but his primal urges pointed out the pleasing shape of her legs disappearing up into the little checkered dress, the smooth and slender curves of her body. He let himself imagine, just for a moment, how she'd feel as a soft little bundle with his big arms wrapped around her...

Killian shook himself, taking a sip of his coffee and nearly scalding his tongue for his trouble. Knock it off! he sternly commanded his brain. Even the flirting with Alicia was a weakness, one that he should cut out of his life. He'd made a point of not growing too close to anyone, keeping them out of danger.

He'd hate to see that cute little smile on Alicia's face get hurt - or worse.

By the time that she returned, bearing a steaming plate of delicious smelling food, he'd managed to control himself a bit more, and had turned his attention to his open laptop once again.

"How's the story coming?" she asked, as she carefully, skillfully slid the plate in front of him, moving carefully to make sure that she didn't burn herself on the hot dish.

He shrugged, trying to keep up those already crumbling mental walls. "Slow," he admitted. "It's tough figuring out how to build up the plot for my characters. They don't always seem to want to do what I imagine in my head."

Alicia nodded sympathetically. "Maybe that's the sign of a good writer, though," she commiserated. "Your characters are developed enough to have their own desires and urges - you need to help guide them along to what they want!"

"Thanks for the compliment, but I think it might be misplaced," Killian replied. He knew in his heart that he'd never manage to rise above being a middling writer at best, but he didn't mind feeling Alicia's admiring eyes on him. She didn't know about his past, about the stains on his soul. All she saw was the quiet, slightly older gentleman who came to the diner every morning for breakfast as he pecked away at his novel. "Anyway, don't let me keep you from your other customers."

He saw the young African-American woman glance around at the other tables in the diner, but she lingered a moment longer. "I can't wait to read it, once it hits the bookshelves of all the stores," she insisted. "Now, enjoy your food, Mr. Kane."

"Call me Killian," Killian told her before he could stop himself.

For a moment, he saw Alicia's mouth pop open in a perfect little O of surprise. "Killian," she repeated, bobbing her head and flashing a pair of cute dimples in her cheeks. "That's a nice name."

With one last smile at him, Alicia turned away, heading off to go check on her other customers. Once again, even though he knew that she could feel his eyes on her as she strolled off, Killian couldn't help but watch her go.

This time, as she left, he noticed a couple little frayed patches at the hem of her dress. Indeed, now that he looked a little closer, he could see that the fabric was slightly faded from repeated washings, and although she had a clean and composed appearance, looking very well put together, she didn't have any earrings in the little holes in her lower lobes, and didn't wear any jewelry.

Killian made a mental note of this observation as he turned back to his computer, reaching out and picking up his fork. He dug into the still-steaming omelet, smiling at the perfect balance of saltiness, creaminess, and fattiness in each bite, especially when he combined a bit of omelet with a couple of crunchy diced potatoes. He knew that his habit of eating diner food wasn't the healthiest choice he could make, but he made sure to work hard to keep the food off of his waistline, and he figured that he could allow himself one single indulgence in a life otherwise filled with austerity.

He alternated bites of omelet and potatoes with typing out sentences on his laptop, pausing every now and then to groan at the antics and disobedience of his characters in his story. Why wouldn't they just come together into a nice, complete story, like he always imagined in his head?

A couple of hours later, the plate in front of Killian looked almost spotless; he'd even eaten the crusts of the whole wheat toast, using them to scoop up the last little bits of egg from the omelet. He still didn't feel thrilled with his story, but he'd managed to at least advance the plot a bit, and to his surprise, he even had some idea of where he'd take the story next, in the next couple of days.

With a sigh, he saved the progress on his story, and then closed the lid on the laptop. A moment later, Alicia once again ducked by his table, reaching out and sweeping the cleaned plate up off of the scratched surface without pausing. She vanished into the back, dropping off the plate in the kitchen.

A moment later, she popped out again, once again whizzing past his table with the exuberance of youth and putting a little grin on his face. This time, she pulled the order pad from its pocket in her apron as she passed, tearing off Killian's bill and depositing it lightly on his table.

Killian watched her skip away, and then picked up the bill. He noted that his total came to just a little over ten dollars, but he pulled two twenty-dollar bills from his wallet and folded them inside the bill, leaving the whole thing on the table.

Tucking his computer back into his leather shoulder bag, he slid out of the booth and headed for the diner's exit. He passed Alicia on the way out, but didn't stop, not wanting to be drawn into conversation.

Still, she gave him one last little smile, flashing those dimples at him. For a moment, Killian felt the corners of his own mouth struggling to lift up into a returning smile, but he ducked his head and stepped out through the diner's swinging door before his smile could make its appearance.

Keep yourself apart, he reminded himself. Think aloof, an island. Drawing in other people is just putting them in danger, risking getting them hurt if they get drawn too far into my life, my past. He could occasionally flirt with Alicia, he permitted himself, but he couldn't let anything more serious than that to happen.

He didn't want to put her at risk.

Killian also knew that, if he were still around when Alicia picked up his bill and payment, she'd come rushing after him, insisting that he'd paid too much, that he didn't need to leave the second twenty dollar bill. Despite those threadbare clothes, he knew from all their little conversations and exchanges that she would be far too proud to accept such a big tip face to face.

Outside the diner in the warm midday sun, he blinked, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of the pocket of his jacket and sliding them onto his face. After checking the strap of his shoulder bag across his chest, Killian threw his leg over his motorcycle and started up the engine.