Page 64 of The Grief We Hold

Calls are made to Halo, Bates, Spark, and Niro, and they lend their input to our plans. It becomes audacious. King offersto front the club half-a-million loan for ten percent of the first year’s take.

Butcher accepts it, but the idea we could turn over five million in the next year is exciting.

King extends the invitation to go hang with them in New Jersey to learn more, but Butcher declines. Says we need to show progress first. If we do, then we can ride out.

It makes sense.

The work is here in Colorado.

By the time we’re done, everyone is half-starved yet buoyed with enthusiasm.

“You want to go grab some food?” I ask Smoke.

“Yeah. Feel like my stomach is about to eat itself,” he says.

“I’m in,” Catfish says. “Nice job on that plan.”

Smoke slaps me hard on the shoulder as we walk out the door. “Keep that up, you could be president of this club one day.” His words are quietly spoken.

It’s a good feeling to have your work appreciated by men you respect. “Thanks, but I’m happy as I am.”

“Where are we eating?” Catfish asks.

Smoke’s belly laughter barks through the lot. “You think we’re eating anywhere other than the diner these days? Pretty server there with long black hair that Wraith goes all caveman over.”

I shake my head at the teasing and zip up the hoodie I’m wearing beneath my cut. “Got plans for her, as well.”

Catfish climbs on his bike. “In that case, I can’t wait to see how this goes.”

21

RAVEN

I’m watching the clock as I clear a table in the diner. I need to pick Fen up exactly fifteen minutes after I finish my shift. It’s a twenty-minute walk, which means I’ll be running through the town in my diner uniform.

Thankfully, the sun is shining. Spring is in full force. And there isn’t a cloud in the sky threatening to drench me as I run.

“Can you take those pot roasts out to table ten, please, Raven?” Floyd asks, tipping his head in the direction of the two plates underneath the heat.

“Got it.” I sweep them up after I’ve ditched the dirty dishes.

When I walk out, Tanner, the sheriff, and one of his deputies walk in. I haven’t seen him since we met in the launderette after Wraith and I…

“We’re not thinking about that man,” I mutter quietly so no one hears.

The last two days have been a relentless battle of trying to not think about two men. Marco won’t stop calling. I capitulated and listened to his messages, which have now devolved into threats such that I hope the Russians or police find him soon.

And Wraith. Urgh, my body tightens just thinking about the way his hands made me feel, even as heat fills my cheeks at the way he dismissed me so easily.

“Afternoon, Sheriff Radcliffe,” I say.

He tips his hat in my direction. “Hey, Raven. Can we get a couple of coffees when you have a minute?”

“Sure. I’ll get right on it when I’ve dealt with this.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to proffer the two plates of food toward him to reinforce my point.

He smiles, and they take a seat by the window.

I drop off the food to a couple just passing through on a once-in-a-lifetime road trip to celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary, then busy myself pouring the coffees.

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