Page 9 of Burning Ember
I shove the items in my hands at her and turn, but she stops me by placing a hand on my arm. “Look, if you need a ride, or maybe a place to stay for a little while, I can take you somewhere Davis can’t bother you.” I nod vigorously. She looks over at the long lines behind the cash registers, frowns, and says. “I may be a bit, but I’ll come find you soon okay?”
I flee to the bathroom.
After slapping open the restroom door, I bolt for the nearest stall, making it just in time. My knees skid on the cold hard tile, my face hovers over the porcelain bowl for only a moment before I retch. I palm the wall for some stability, though honestly, right now, I have none.
Too close.
That was too goddamn close. And not just my mad dash to the toilet.
The look on Officer Davis’s face. He recognized me. Maybe he hasn’t put two and two together yet, but I have no doubt he will . . . in time.
I heave numerous times trying to get rid of the nausea and images inside my head. Me, shackled in handcuffs. Me, looking out from behind bars. Me, wearing an orange jumpsuit.
My freedom gone. My secret garden replaced by an iron cage for God knows how long.
I breathe deeply and force myself to calm down enough to stop the retching. Then grab some toilet paper and wipe my face.
At the row of sinks, I choose the last one and splash cool water over my face. It helps. A little. I watch in the mirror as the drops fall from my chin. My eyes shift to the closed door and a knot forms in my stomach. The bathroom suddenly feels smaller, the beige walls closer, and the closed metal door gets larger than it was a moment ago. I squeeze my eyes shut.Don’t think about it.
When I reopen them, I don’t focus on the room. Instead, I gaze down at the gnarly scars on my wrists. They’re jagged and though caused by the same thing, they’re different. A small sign of the damage Warner inflicted.
The door squeaks open behind me. The noises of a busy grocery store file in. Shifting my eyes, I look past my reflection. Chills skate up my spine and every muscle in my body goes stiff.
“Ember Dee Pierce.” My name falls from Officer Davis’ lips. The one on my birth certificate. The click of the lock sounds like a gun going off as he flips it in place, followed by the thud of his boots on the tile floor as he strides toward me.
I scan my surroundings. My senses wake up and instantly search for a way to escape or hide. Only there’s nowhere to go. Being locked in a small space, cornered, as a predator bears down on me, is not something I ever wanted to experience again.
In no time at all, he’s standing behind me, his hazel eyes locked with mine through the mirror. The light above the mirror illuminates the sweat just under his hairline on his forehead.
“San Diego Police Department has been looking for you for quite a while. I’m sure they’d be happy to know you’re alive and living with Lily and her gang of criminals.”
I clench my jaw shut and grip the edge of the counter like my life depends on it. I could run, but I’d never make it. I’m fast. But I’m not that fast.
The way he snarled the last part makes me think maybe he has some beef with the men Lily’s associated with. Disassociating myself might be the smartest thing to do.
“I-I’m not her cousin. I just met her. I’m not connected with her or them.”
He scrutinizes my face. “Is she coming back for you?”
I swallow down my panic. I don’t understand what this has to do with her. “She said she would.” Then I ask the all-important question. “A-are you going to arrest me?”
It feels like forever before he responds. “Maybe we can work out some kind of deal.”
The tiny hairs on my neck prickle. “What do you mean?” Lines appear around his mouth as he smiles and a shudder rakes over me. A large knot forms in my belly. “What, sex?”
He shakes his head. The corner of his mouth lifts in a malicious smirk. “Not that I’m not tempted, but I need something more than a blow job or a quick fuck, sweetheart.”
A wave of relief washes over me. Then I realize I have nothing else to give him and tell him so. “I don’t have anything else to give you.”
“Not necessarily true. If Lily takes you with her, you might be very useful to me.”
I’m lost on his meaning. “Where is it you think she’s taking me?”
“Ever heard of the Harbingers of Chaos?”
“Where?” I ask.
“Not a where, a who.” He sweeps my hair off my shoulder and I flinch away from his touch. “They’re a motorcycle club. Their hangout’s not too far from here.” He gestures toward the door. “Lily’s boyfriend’s a member. A real piece of work, like the rest of ’em. We’re talking murderers, drug dealers, and gunrunners. They launder money through the local casino. You name it, and if it’s illegal, they have their hands in it. They think they own everything and everyone. And they trample over the people who get in their way.” A muscle in his jaw ticks.
