Page 35 of Lies Beneath Secrets

“I needed a place to live. Recently got custody of my daughter, which I’m sure you already know.” His stoic expression doesn’t falter; he knows damn well there’s more to my story. “Who is she to you?”

“I’ve come to care about her and that friend of hers.” There’s more to his answer too, but he sure as hell isn’t letting on what that could be. “As long as those two are safe, you can count me in as an ally. My old man took care of this town before some asshole decided to have a meth meltdown and shoot him. I’ll be damned if that’ll happen ever again. You tell me who, and I’ll get them off the street.”

“Not the way this will work.” Knox takes two steps closer to Shane. “What we need to do is purge this fucking town of the poison. The people who are cooking, selling, and lacing their product and killing their customers. If all you’re doing is arresting them just so the judge can give them a slap on the wrist, this shit will only continue.”

“You want me to sit by while you go on a killing rampage and turn my city into a war-zone?” Shane lets out a laugh. “You boys are delusional.” He starts to turn back around and go to his truck until I speak.

“We’re outnumbered,” I say, glancing over at Knox, wondering if I should have even said that.

“Outnumbered?” Shane asks.

“We need backup when shit goes down. King has most of the club and the Flatliners in his pocket,” I clarify.

“Outnumbered is putting it lightly then.” Shane looks off toward his truck, then back at the three of us. “You ever had a member of the club be a police officer?” Pace doesn’t hold back his laughter at the question, which earns him a glare from Knox, but he doesn’t notice.

“Sort of a conflict of interest, isn’t it? A cop being a member of a motorcycle club.” Pace laughs a little more, then finally looks over at Knox, who’s clearly unimpressed. His pretty boy face can be void of emotion when he needs it to be.

“It would have to be voted on,” Knox says, regarding Shane for a moment. “Can we count on you?” The silence spreads thick between all of us until Shane nods.

“You help me get that poison out of my city, and you got yourself an ally.” He pulls open the door of his truck, then looks back at Knox. “Let me know how that vote goes.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR

Lauren

“Have you heard from him since?” Piper asks as she places the coffeepot back on the warming plate. I shake my head and grab another napkin.

“He was such a jerk, I’m not sure I even want to see or talk to him again. I mean, where does he get off telling me what I can do? We were never dating.” Placing the knife, fork, and spoon on each other, I wrap them in the napkin and secure it with the sticky paper. It’s close to closing time, and the last thing to do is get the silverware wrapped, which apparently Piper has decided to let me do on my own.

“Damn it,” she grumbles under her breath, then pockets her phone.

“What?”

“Lucas is outside waiting for me.” She looks my way with a sad smile on her face.

“Go, I’ll lock up. We have like ten minutes, and there isn’t anyone in here. So, unless a group of twenty comes in, I’ll be fine.” I wave her off. “I’ve closed up plenty on my own, and Bernard and Chaz are still here too.”

“You wanted a ride though.” I look out the diner window to where Lucas’s truck is now parked. Slight snowflakes are flying in the air, dancing around the beams from the headlights.

“It won’t be the coldest walk I’ve taken. Really, Piper, I’ll be okay.”

“I can make him wait.” As if the man himself just heard her speak those words, the horn from the truck honks twice. What a charming guy. “Damn it.” She pulls out her phone and starts typing.

“Piper. Please. Just go. I don’t want to be the cause of an argument between you two.” I force a smile when she looks back at me. She knows damn well she’ll be arguing with the man regardless. She’s still defending herself over the night we went out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She grabs her bag and hooks it over her shoulder.

“Bright and early,” I say in response. Having to close then open the next day isn’t very fun but seems to be the scheduling kick Vance, our boss, is on at the moment. I watch as Piper walks out the front door and over to the truck waiting outside. Not for the first time, I wish she would realize how shitty of a person Lucas is.

As soon as eleven hits, I’m up and locking the door. That’s about the time Bernard and Chaz walk out from the kitchen. “Here, guys.” I hand each of them some money. “The tips weren’t great today.”

“All good with me,” Chaz says and pockets the cash. He’s one of the dishwashers and sometimes busses the tables, depending on how busy we are. Bernard is a cook and a man of very few words. He nods and pockets the cash before walking out of the diner. “You have a good night, Lauren.” Chaz waves at me as he leaves too.

I walk through the small building, flick off the lights, and then step outside, locking the door behind me. The cold air smacks me in the face, as well as some snowflakes. I let out a sigh. “This weather is bipolar,” I mutter to myself and start the walk to my apartment. This walk has been completed multiple times at this time of night but for some reason, tonight seems off in a way. Almost like someone is following me. The hair on the back of my neck prickles the further I walk, and it isn’t from the cold. I keep glancing back behind me but see nothing. No sounds of footsteps or vehicles, only the wind that fills the space around me is making noise. “You’re just being paranoid,” I say aloud and do my best to shake away the thoughts that try to invade my mind. “So stupid.” I roll my eyes, convincing myself that it’s all just in my head.

When a scraping sound barrels toward me, I give in to the panic and jump nearly ten feet in the air. Probably an exaggeration, but my spirit most likely leaves my body in the moment and goes that high. When I turn around to see a large orange plow truck barreling past me, I’m allowed to catch my breath. “Good fucking God,” I say aloud to myself and clutch at my chest as if it will help calm my racing heart. It doesn’t, not even a little bit. Then laughter bubbles out of my pounding chest. “You pansy,” I tell myself and try to shake off the whole experience.

My apartment building comes into view not long after I get my breathing under control, and I let out a sigh of relief, then grab my keys from my purse. “I so need a drink.” I laugh again to myself and open the entrance door. When I slide my key into the next door, everything goes to shit.

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