Keys To My Cuffs (The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC Book 4) (7 page)

In fact, it’d gotten so bad that I rarely got more than three hours of sleep at night.

I don’t know what the big deal was. I didn’t even know Loki all that well.

Officer
Bryce “Loki” Rector wasn’t even a part of my life before he was back out of it again. However, I couldn’t seem to let go. I couldn’t think about anything else. I couldn’t sleep because of my worsening nightmares, and I could barely afford my rent payment.

All of those things were starting to compound, and I really just didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

And I really didn’t want to talk about it.

I knew she was worried about me, but I had to watch out for myself first, and breaking down in public wasn’t a good thing. At least not from my perspective. She wouldn’t wait much longer, either. She’d been more and more persistent lately, and I knew it was a matter of time before she finally got me drunk enough to talk.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” She asked softly. “He’s the one that made you like this. Did he hurt you, Chan? Did he do something...bad to you?”

My back straightened and I stared at her wide-eyed. “What are you talking about? The man never laid a finger on me! What would make you think that?”

“Oh, thank God. I’ve been working up the courage to ask you that for weeks now.” She sighed. “What are you getting for lunch?”

I shook my head and looked at the menu.

We were eating lunch at Applebee’s to celebrate Brittany’s twelfth 40
^th
birthday. Amazing how she’s managed to stay 40 for all these years.

“I think I’ll have the...” she stopped when her phone started vibrating on the table in front of us. Reaching forward, she answered it and put it to her ear while I continued to peruse my menu.

I decided on honey-grilled chicken when the alarm in Brittany’s voice made me look up and study her face.

The lines around her face had hardened into a thin line, and she was scowling at the tabletop like it’d done her a horrible injustice.

“No, honey. I’ll be there in a couple of hours. Try to calm down. I know baby.” She sighed. “Daddy won’t care that you wrecked your car. All he’ll care about is that you’re alive to bitch about it. Yes, baby. I’ll meet you at the college. I love you.”

When she hung up, I stared at her in expectation. “What happened?”

She sighed and started gathering her things. “JJ got in an accident. It wasn’t her fault, but her
car’s
totaled and my husband’s in a meeting with the commissioner all afternoon. I have to go. Thank you for offering to buy me lunch. I’ll have to take a rain check.”

“Of course, Brit. I’ll treat you to lunch next week, okay?” I offered.

She smiled at me gratefully before giving me a half hug and walking out of the door.

I stared after her with a growing sadness growing inside of me.

God, what I wouldn’t give to have someone need me like that.

To have someone to call if I ever needed anything.

Sure, I had Brittany...but she wasn’t family. She wasn’t my lover. She wasn’t my blood. She was my best friend with a life of her own.

“Can I get you anything to eat, ma’am?” The waiter asked.

I looked at the menu and made a quick decision. “Yes, I’ll have the honey grilled chicken. I want mashed potatoes and asparagus, please.”

He nodded as I placed my order and left.

I stared out the window at the passing traffic and wondered what the hell I’d do the rest of the day.

I’d taken off from my second job, which was now in an actual salon instead of at the shady funeral home that funneled drugs in their coffins. I’d stopped going to school, and to top it off, I was behind on nearly every one of my bills since my brother up and left, taking his half of the rent (when he paid, that was) with him.

It didn’t surprise me in the least that my bosses, Gustavo Amadeus and Ray Platt, were criminals, either.

I’d read about the secret drug transporting business that Gustavo ran. About how he’d transported drugs in return for money by using coffins and hearses.

I still couldn’t believe all the stuff I’d been so oblivious to; everything that I’d had a sixth sense about ever since I’d started working there.

They’d always given me the creeps, and it just goes to show that I should always trust my instincts.

Not that those instincts had worked in time to warn me that Loki was a cop.

The one man I let myself start to have feelings for was also the one to destroy me.

God, I was such an idiot.

“Hi there, Detective Rector, how are you today?” The chirpy hostess asked from her position at the stand.

I was sitting at the very corner booth closest to the door, and all that I had to do was raise my eyes up a fraction of an inch to find myself staring into the pale baby blues of the object of my affection.

The waitress’ smile was warm and friendly, but I knew for a fact the answering one wasn’t really a smile, but more of a grimace trying to be a smile.

He looked good.

His hair was just as short as the last time I’d seen him, and he’d put on a lot more weight.

No longer was he skinny. Now he was what I’d like to call buff.

His attire was much the same as the last time I’d seen him, too.

Crisp blue jeans, black polo with the letters BPD embroidered above the breast, and a pair of black motorcycle boots.

Oh, and a woman on his arm.

Loki

“Thank you for taking me to lunch. I didn’t want to keep you any more than I already have,” Dortea, the new district attorney, said apologetically.

I smiled at her, but otherwise didn’t say anything else.

This would be our last meeting before I took the stand on Monday, and I couldn’t be any more excited about it. It’d been three fucked up months waiting for the
trial to take place.

I was so ready to get this over with that I couldn’t see straight. My life had been on hold for, what felt like, a year. I had a constant headache for the past three months, and in the last two, it’d progressively gotten worse.

Varian Strong had implemented every single scare tactic he could to get me not to testify short of actually offing me, which I was sure would only be a matter of time before he chose to try that.

I’d been warned. I’d been sent threatening letters. I’d had my car and home vandalized. Threats had been delivered to the club.

We’d arrested four of his workers who’d been acting on orders from him, and still he didn’t stop, despite every single one of his workers now sharing a cell next to his.

That was inevitably what sent me to Florida for an extended stay. The death threats had progressed to actual assaults, and I didn’t want to put my club, my fellow officers, or Channing in danger. Which actually was a breath of fresh air not to be sleeping ten feet away from her every night.

Plus, I got to visit with my mom and stepfather.

If anything else, not seeing Channing was the one thing that hurt the most. I could handle car bombs and death threats all day long, but one look at the sorrow in Channing’s eyes every time I saw her but didn’t approach, absolutely gutted me.

The look in her eyes, the accusation. As if I was being just like she’d expected me to be.

“Table for two?” The host asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dortea confirmed. “I need somewhere with a lot of light,” she said glancing around the dimmed bar area. “Preferably by those windows right there. Perhaps beside that young woman?”

My head turned to examine the windows, first disregarding the beautiful woman sitting at the booth directly behind me, but as soon as my mind registered what it’d seen, my eyes flashed back to hers.

They were swimming with tears, and she was staring at the TV above the bar with a grim determination that broke my heart.

God, this all was so unbelievably fucked up.

I’d been using every tactic I’d learned in all my years of training to stay away from her. I knew what could happen to her if I started being seen with her in public. Varian’s cronies would
see, and then they’d carry that information back to him. He’d then send out orders to do whatever necessary to affirm compliance on my part. And I would have. In a fuckin’ heartbeat.

“Sure, that’s Melody’s section, and she’s on break, but I can definitely have Sean over there take your orders. Is that okay?” The young woman asked.

At Dortea’s nod, she walked quickly around the half wall that separated the entrance from the seating area, and placed our menus on the table before leaving.

We were seated directly across the aisle from Channing.

And we were facing each other.

She was doing everything in her power not to look in my direction, and I was doing everything in my power to turn my head away from her.

We both lost.

Our eyes connected, and I could see the desolation in her eyes, and I suddenly couldn’t breathe.

I hated that I made her feel like I’d used her and tossed her away, and I didn’t know what to do to fix it. Hell, I couldn’t fix it until after I’d testified.

I was fucked if I did, and fucked harder if I didn’t.

Either way, I was taking it up the ass, and who knew how long it would take until I was able to talk to her. I may be testifying on Monday, but that in no way meant I was free and clear. There might still be instances that I was needed to clarify something, or add something to my testimony.

Channing’s head lowered in defeat just before she bolted for the bathroom.

I stared after her for all of twenty seconds before excusing myself to the bathroom myself.

I walked slowly in the direction of the bathrooms, but instead of going into the men’s, I went into the women’s, being sure to lock the door behind me.

The sound of Channing hurling was the first thing to register with my senses, and I instantly knew I just couldn’t do it any longer.

Walking slowly to the stall, I was relieved to find that she hadn’t found the time to lock it, and I pushed it open slowly, finding her squatting down beside the toilet with her hair hanging down surrounding her head.

Thankful that she’d chosen the handicapped bathroom, I squatted down behind her and gathered her hair in my hands.

“Oh, Chan, I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Her hiccupping sob caught me off guard, and my head dropped until it was resting on her shaking back.

“Please,” I whispered brokenly. “Don’t cry. I’m not worth it.”

I wasn’t used to girls crying. I didn’t have any girls in my life. I had a brother that was fifteen years older than I was, and a mom that refused to let anyone see her cry. The only women I’d seen cry, lately, were the wives of the members of the MC. When the first tear started to drop, I was walking in the opposite direction.

I’d seen plenty of crying in my day as a cop, but when it hits me then, I have my cop face on. Right now, I had
my
me
face on, and I couldn’t handle it.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I just ate something bad,” she lied.

Badly.

Leaning up, she pressed her weight into me, and I wrapped my hands around her waist.

My hands sprawled against her abdomen, and curled around until my fingers went around her back.

“Sure you did. Can you stand?” I asked, as I buried my head into her hair.

She nodded, but neither one of us moved.

“I’ve been getting death threats,” I said into her hair.

I left out the getting the shit beat out of me part. She didn’t need to know that much detail.

Her body froze, and she stood fast.

My hands missed the reassuring weight of her body immediately, and I stood, too.

She was staring at me wide-eyed. “Really?”
She gasped.

Then she was in my arms, and I held her while she cried all the harder.

She’d put on weight over the past few months. In fact, so much so that her breasts were a lot
more cushy, but I’d never, for the life of me, tell her that.

We stayed that way until there was a knock on the bathroom door, and an annoyed woman on the other end. “You need to open this door. There’s a line of women out here waiting to get in.”

Letting her go reluctantly, I walked out of the stall and opened the door to find a line of glaring women standing with their arms crossed. “Sorry we had a breakdown.”

Their annoyed faces immediately changed to understanding when they saw the woman still crying behind me.

The toilet flushed, and the sink turned on as she washed her hands as I held the door open for the ladies who were most assuredly not pleased to find a man in the women’s bathroom, but still understanding.

When I felt Channing at my back, I grabbed her hand and led her out of the bathroom.

When we reached the end of the hallway, I stopped and pushed her against the wall. “Stay and listen to what Dortea has to say. She’s the DA. Eat your dinner, and wait up for me tonight. I’ll be over when you get off work, okay?”

At her affirming nod, I let my hands slip from her face, and gave her a soft kiss on the lips before leaving her standing against the wall.

I didn’t look back.

I knew she’d follow.

Now I only hoped she’d listen.

I’m not weird. I’m a limited edition.

-T-shirt

Channing

I walked into my house completely numb.

Would he be there? Or would he not show.

Forgoing the lights, I tossed my bag onto the couch and kicked off my shoes at the corner of the hallway.

My money was on him
not
showing.

I was afraid that if I let myself hope, that I’d be crushed just like the last time.

Cautiously, I walked towards my bedroom.

I was nearly there when a deep, resonating voice called out from behind me. “Your door is broken.”

I squeaked and turned to find him behind me and staring at me accusingly. Or at least what I could see of him.

Mostly, I could only make out his face and that he was wearing dark clothing.