Page 63 of Grave Curse

I could only nod at her shock. I was right there with her. “So, if you’re asking me what I envision my life to be a year from now, it’s kinda possible that I’ll be a new mother.” Just saying it out loud for the first time made something swoop in my belly.

“Wow,” my friend said, looking like she was holding her breath. “Are you okay with that?”

“I am.” The moment I said it, my internal world and all its unsettled dithering abruptly calmed, and in its place came a sweet and soul-deep peace. “I want Tyr’s baby, so if it happens, it happens. No matter what, I’ll be happy with the outcome.”

“And Tyr? Will you be happy with Tyr?”

“God, yes. I’m so happy whenever I’m with him, because I…”

Roxie’s hands squeezed mine so tightly it hurt. “Because you… what?”

“Because…” It was strange, how my throat kept trying to close up, as if I were scared of answering. But this was too important. I couldn’t afford to be afraid of myself. “Because I’m in love with Tyr Colgrave.”

“I’m so happy for you.” A whoop burst from my friend before she hugged me again, just as a strident alert sounded from the television.

“…interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to give you a live update on what appears to be some sort of shoot-out or mass-shooting event over on the west side of town, in the Elk Grove Village area west of O’Hare Airport. Authorities have locked O’Hare down out of an abundance of caution.”

I froze, staring at the TV. Elk Grove Village. That was Chicago Gravediggers territory, and where Audrey and I lived throughout my growing-up years. It wasn’t a great place as neighborhoods went, mainly industrial parks and warehouses, and an unofficial red-light district along Route 83 where all the truck stops were. Sadly it was no surprise that there would be a shooting around—

My brain ground to a halt when the neon sign for Rooster Juice flashed across the screen.

Oh, boy.

Rooster Juice.

Jesus…

Rooster Juice had been Odin’s bar, built directly in front of the Chicago Gravediggers clubhouse. If you didn’t know the back way in, going through that bar was the only way to get into the Chicago Gravedigger clubhouse. Just like Tyr loved Ride Or Die Choppers, Odin had loved that stupid bar. Back in the day before I declared verbal war on my mother, Audrey had often mentioned that given another life, Odin probably would have been content to simply be a barkeep, and leave the dog-eat-dog ruthlessness of being at the top of the biker world behind.

Why were they focusing on Rooster Juice so early in the morning? They weren’t open at this time of day. There couldn’t have been a shooting, unless…

“Ginger?” Gently my friend touched my arm. “What is it? You look—”

“Please, Rox, let me hear this.”

“According to police on-scene, neighbors in the area heard shots ringing out just before dawn, and it seemed to go off and on sporadically for the next half hour to forty-five minutes. There are conflicting reports as to when the police were called in and who called them in. Only one thing seems certain. When the police finally did arrive, it appears that most of the shooting—and indeed, the killing—was done.”

“My God,” Roxie whispered while my blood ran cold. “How can something like that happen? It sounds like some kind of Old West shootout at the OK Corral.” She stopped talking when the pictures on the TV showed three gurneys being wheeled out to ambulances, with all three bodies shrouded in white sheets. “Oh, no, that looks bad. What the hell is this city coming to?”

Fear gripped me so hard I could feel my throat closing. Everyone who lived on the darker side of Chicago knew Elk Grove Village meant the Chicago Gravediggers. No one who enjoyed breathing would ever cross them, unless they were at war with them.

Tyr.

Frantically I snatched my phone out of my back pocket just as I heard a rattle of keys at the door. My alarmed gaze slammed into Tyr, who appeared whole and healthy and completely normal, and not in any way splattered in blood, like he’d just come from the world’s most gruesome shootout.

Safe. He was safe.

Thank God.

“’Morning, ladies.” Outwardly calm, Tyr’s whiskey-gold gaze flicked from my expression to the TV, and I could swear I glimpsed a grim sort of satisfaction in his eyes before he showed off a large cardboard box that emanated scents of warm, spicy goodness. “I come bearing a peace-offering.”

Roxie’s eyes narrowed on the box. “Does that say Casa La Fonda?”

“Yep. I’ve been standing in line for almost an hour for the city’s best breakfast tacos, because when I apologize, I do it with everything I’ve got. And what I’ve got is egg, cheese and bacon, chorizo and egg, bean and cheese, and migas, all with your choice of salsas, as well as sour cream and guac. Will any of that get me out of trouble? Or at the very least, a cup of coffee?”

“You had me at breakfast tacos, but I can’t speak for Ginger.” Moving to take the precious box of all things yummy out of his hands, Roxie gave me a wink before scooting off toward the breakroom. “Unfortunately I need to brew a fresh pot of coffee, Tyr, so why don’t you and Ginger chat out here while I go and take care of that? Take your time, you two.”

“Let me guess,” he drawled the moment Roxie shut the door behind her. “You told Roxie about us.”

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