Page 67 of Twisted Road

Her heart skipped a beat. That meant Sid would be walking in any moment. As she threaded her way through tables—and now there were a few empty, but more people milled on the store side—she glanced out the window in an effort to locate Hannah, the sheriff, and his deputy. They were nowhere in sight.

She followed Keys to a very small, intimate table in the corner of the tea side of the shop. The scents and fragrances from the products for sale, the lotions and soaps and massage oils, enveloped the two of them. It should have been overpowering, but instead, the combination of scents added to the intimacy.

The table was set up with two plates and cups, a steaming pot of tea and a three-tiered stand with savories and scones on each tier. Keys poured the tea and added honey to his cup. He placed a scone on her plate and took a bite out of another scone and put it down on his plate. Setting a scene, she realized.

“Are you okay?” Keys asked, reaching across the table to take her hand. “The conversations with the women seemed intense at times.”

“The world you live in is intense, Keys.” She took a sip of her tea, allowing the flavor to soothe her. She hadn’t even known she needed soothing. It seemed to her that there was one drama playing out after another within minutes of each other. It was very overwhelming for someone who was neurodivergent. More than overwhelming.

He was silent a moment, his amber eyes moving broodingly over her face. “Babe, there just happened to be a situation today, mostly because Savage insisted Seychelle should stay. He knew she was going to protest leaving, and he asked Czar to change the meeting place. Savage has never asked for anything. If a brother considers something so important he’d change an important meeting venue, the rest of us are going to accommodate him.”

“But this is Hannah’s place of business. Her husband is in law enforcement. Another club might think he’s a dirty cop. I would. In my opinion, Czar shouldn’t have asked Hannah. And why would she agree? Did she feel threatened?” She just put it out, what she’d been most afraid of. Had Torpedo Ink frightened Hannah into allowing them to use her place of business?

To her astonishment, Keys burst out laughing. He leaned closer across the table. “The Drakes have the most extraordinary gifts. They are powerful. Some say witches. We’re not stupid enough to go up against the Drakes for any reason. We’ve seen what they can do. What Blythe can do. If I told you some of the things I’ve witnessed, you would have me locked up. Hannah and her sister Elle are insanely powerful.”

“How did you get their family on your side?”

“When we first came to this area, we aligned ourselves with that family. Jackson and Elle were being targeted, and Czar did his best to protect them. Blythe and Hannah are cousins. Family is everything to us and to them. What I’m saying is, in our world, we share everything. When one business needs something, everyone pitches in. Czar wouldn’t have considered that Hannah would say no. My guess, he explained everything up front to her. Seychelle is a particular favorite of Hannah’s and Sabelia’s. Hannah isn’t a judgmental person. She has never looked down on any club. It does put Jonas in a bad position, and that showed today. I doubt if we’ll ever repeat the request. Jonas made it clear to Czar and Hannah that it wasn’t happening again. Czar respects Jonas, so he wouldn’t put him or Hannah in this position again.”

“This is really all over a woman and the fact that she wanted to be here with friends?” That was difficult for Lyric to believe. Would Keys be like that with her? Risk his club’s wrath to give her something she wanted? Especially when it seemed a silly thing?

The door opened, the little floating hats calling out a welcome merrily. Lyric felt the difference in Keys immediately and knew Sid and a couple of his brethren had walked in.

“Answering your question, yes, this can all be happening over a woman and her man finding a way to meet her needs. Sid spotted us and is coming this way.”

She looked up as Sid, his enforcer Warren Jones, and Knox Bigolow came right up to the table. All three concentrated their entire focus on Keys. He stood, looking easy and calm, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He did wear his expressionless mask.

“I’ll take you back to Czar and the others,” he offered.

Sid held out his hand. “I hope there aren’t any hard feelings. I had no idea you were Torpedo Ink.”

Keys shook his hand. “No worries. It all came out right. I was trying to be respectful of your club while I persuaded this woman to be mine. My fault. I should have handled things differently.”

“I appreciate you taking that view,” Sid said. He turned his attention to Lyric. “Sorry about your salon burning. Town’s going to miss your expertise.”

She gave him a half smile, because really? What did one say to that? In any case, he was already turning away to follow Keys to the back room. She observed that as the three Headed for Hell club members followed her man, another Torpedo Ink member she hadn’t even noticed emerged from the shadows, watching carefully.

Fifteen

Refreshments were already on the table. Sid sat across from Czar. The fact that he’d only brought two men with him—and Warren was his most trusted man—made Keys believe that whatever Sid had to say to Czar, he didn’t want anyone to know. And did that mean he had traitors in his club?

“Thanks for taking the meeting, Czar. As I told you, this has to be confidential, whether you feel you can help or not. I thought a lot about what you said and how you and your club handled things. I’ve paid attention to the rumors about your club, and lately, there’ve been quite a few.”

Czar shrugged. “Clubs gossip. Most of it is pure bullshit.”

“In this case, I hope the things said are true.”

Sid sighed and glanced at Knox and then Warren. After looking at his own men, his gaze swept the room. Absinthe, who sat beside Sid, Reaper, Savage, Czar and Keys, regarded him impassively. Waiting. Keys had seen Czar use the silence tactic very successfully many times. He simply sat quietly, his gaze fixed on the president’s face.

Sid swept a hand through his hair. “I wanted to keep our territory and the club small. We run guns and drugs, but we’re careful about who we work with. The caves give us a tremendous number of places to stash product. We try to keep a low profile and fly under the radar. Some of the younger recruits start out thinking they can be tough and want to look badass. We shut that down as fast as possible. We don’t want attention from other clubs or from the cops.”

A couple of Headed for Hell club members had gone to the Torpedo Ink roadhouse when the band Crows Flying was playing and Seychelle was auditioning. Savage had given them a single look, and they left. On and off, a couple of the newer members had acted up, but since Sid had taken over the presidency, the club had done exactly what he told Czar he wanted—they’d stayed under the radar, fading into the background, staying to their territory and making a great deal of money.

Czar acknowledged that he was listening by inclining his head, but again, he remained silent. Sid wasn’t giving them any information they didn’t already have. There was nothing new and nothing that would raise an alarm. And Sid was in full-blown panic mode. He was good at hiding it, but they were all adept at reading people.

“This can’t get out, Czar,” Sid reiterated. “I’m taking a real chance coming here, but after what happened with Keys and Lyric, and the way they’re using my caves, I need to find a way out.” Once again, Sid looked to his two trusted men, who both nodded at him encouragingly.

Czar’s eyes flicked briefly to Absinthe, and the man inclined his head slightly, indicating to all members of Torpedo Ink that, so far, Sid was telling the truth.