I walked into the diner with Click, Kong, and Shakespeare. Shakespeare had only been patched in as a prospect a month ago. This was his first real run with us, and the kid was practically glowing with pride that everything had gone smoothly.
That was new. For months the Reapers had been circling our territory like vultures, pushing us closer and closer to war. Click elbowed me as we stepped inside.
"You know," he said quietly, "most guys at least learn the girl's name before throwing her out naked."
I rolled my eyes. "She knew what it was."
Click snorted. "Yeah, well the entire motel sure knew what it was too."
I was about to fire back when I saw her. Click froze beside me. And my world stopped.
Eden.
She stood near the counter holding a coffee pot, her back half-turned toward us. Her strawberry-blonde hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head, loose strands falling around her face just like they always used to.
She wore a diner uniform, but underneath it she was completely covered—long sleeves, a black turtleneck, leggings under the skirt. That wasn't like her. Eden used to love sundresses and oversized sweaters. But that wasn't what caught my attention. She was thinner, too thin.
And a scar ran from her left hairline down toward her ear. It didn't ruin her beauty. If anything, it made something in my chest tighten painfully. I needed to know how she got it. I felt like I was on a roller coaster. Shock hit first, then relief, and then anger.
Three years. Three fucking years.
And she was here? Working in some roadside diner? What the hell happened? Why didn't she come home? Why didn't she call? Her brother was shot for fucksake.
My feet started moving before I even realized it. Then she turned.Her eyes landed on me. For a second, everything froze. I expected surprise. Maybe even shock and tears. Maybe even anger if she left because of that night at the clubhouse.
What I didn't expect…
Was a scream.
A raw, blood-curdling scream tore out of her throat. Eden stumbled backward, crashing into a chair and falling hard to the floor as she tried to scramble away from us. Like we were monsters.
"What the fuck?" Kong muttered.
Eden's voice shook as she pointed toward us.
"It's them," she whispered weakly.
Chaos exploded inside the diner. Another waitress, a tall redhead, jumped in front of Eden holding a butter knife like it was a weapon.
"I will shove this in your dick hole if you come any closer!" the redhead yelled.
Under any other circumstances, I might have laughed. But Eden was crying. Actually crying, and hiding from me. I took a step forward. A loud click-clack echoed through the diner.
I turned.
An old woman stood behind the counter holding a shotgun aimed directly at my chest. Beside her stood a huge bald man who looked like a pissed-off version of Mr. Clean holding a meat cleaver. Two younger men who looked just like him stood behind him, both armed. The entire diner had gone silent.
"Get the fuck out," the old woman said coldly. "You're not welcome here."
Kong blinked.
"What the hell?" he muttered, looking between us and the scene in front of him.
"We've never even been here before," Shakespeare said, raising his hands slowly. "We're just bikers. We're not here to cause trouble."
The old woman's eyes hardened.
"Keep telling yourself that." She cocked the shotgun slightly higher.
"Because we don't serve women beaters, rapists, or murderers in this diner."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
"What did you just call us?" Kong growled through clenched teeth.
Click stood frozen beside me. My gaze snapped back to Eden. She was shaking and terrified of us. Of Click, the man she once called her brother. And of me.
"Lacy, get Eden out of here," the old woman said calmly. Almost too calmly.
I heard glass breaking behind me. An old man had smashed his water glass and wrapped the jagged end in a napkin. Kong blinked slowly.
"Did that man just make a shiv?" The old man stepped forward.
"I might be old," he said calmly, "but I survived Vietnam, and I'll be damned if you touch that girl again."
"What the hell is going on?" I asked again, trying to keep the situation from getting worse as I watched the waitress, Lacy, pull Eden toward the back door.
"That's right," the bald man said coldly. "I forgot. You boys send your brothers to handle your business because you're too weak to do it yourselves."
His grip tightened on the cleaver.
"You send men to beat, rape, and murder a girl you want to get rid of instead of just breaking up with her."
My blood went cold.
"She's dead to you and your club," he finished. "Don't come here again."
He guided us toward the door. None of us resisted. We stepped outside, and the door slammed shut behind us. I heard a lock click. All four of us stood there in silence, staring at each other, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.