Page 19 of Ghost's Revenge
"I'm not cooking for you. I'm cooking for me, and there happens to be enough for two." She glances at me over her shoulder. "Unless you have somewhere else you need to be?"
The honest answer is no. I should check in with Reaper, make sure everything is okay. Should probably go home and shower and try to get some sleep before whatever comes next.
But sitting in this warm kitchen, watching Debbie crack eggs into a bowl like it's the most natural thing in the world, I can't make myself want to leave.
"No," I say. "No other plans."
She nods like she expected that answer. "Good. Because I have questions."
"Questions?"
"About what just happened. About what you did to David. About why you're really here protecting a bunch of strangers."
The eggs hit the hot pan with a satisfying sizzle. Debbie adds salt and pepper, then starts stirring them with the kind of attention that tells me this conversation is just getting started.
"I told you why I'm here. Potential threats—"
"That's the official reason." She doesn't look at me, but there's something in her voice that makes me pay attention. "What's the real reason?"
"That is the real reason."
"Derek." She turns to face me, wooden spoon in one hand, hip cocked against the counter. "You just destroyed my ex-husband with your bare hands like it was nothing. You moved likesomeone who's done that before, a lot. You knew exactly how to hurt him without killing him, knew exactly how much force to use."
She's not wrong. Everything I did to David was calculated, planned, designed to incapacitate rather than eliminate. Military training mixed with years of MC enforcement work, muscle memory that kicks in when someone threatens innocents.
"So either you're the most overqualified bodyguard in history," she continues, "or there's something you're not telling me about why the Outlaw Order MC suddenly decided to protect a women's shelter."
Smart woman. Too smart for her own good, maybe.
"The Vultures MC we're dealing with... they traffic women. Young women, mostly. Force them into prostitution, sell them to the highest bidder." I can hear the edge creeping into my voice, can feel the familiar anger that comes with talking about what these bastards do. "We broke part of their operation a week ago, rescued some of their victims. But their boss got away, and now he's planning revenge."
Debbie goes very still. "Revenge against who?"
"Us. The club. But also against the people we protect. He thinks if he can hurt innocent civilians, we'll back down."
"Will you?"
Will we back down if Charles targets innocents? Will we choose the safety of strangers over the brotherhood that's been our family for fifteen years?
"No," I say, and I mean it with every fiber of my being. "We won't back down. I'll burn this whole town to the ground before I let him hurt people who can't protect themselves."
"This is personal for you."
"It's personal for all of us."
"But especially for you." She turns back to the stove, dividing the eggs between two plates. "Because you've seen what men like him do to women. You've seen the damage. I'm not wrong, am I?"
I think about Afghanistan, about villages where women were property and children were casualties of war. Think about the trafficking operation we busted, the hollow eyes of girls who'd given up hope of ever being free. Think about my own mother, flinching every time my father's key turned in the lock.
"Yeah," I say quietly. "I've seen the damage."
She sets a plate in front of me, eggs still steaming, alongside toast that's perfectly golden brown. It's a simple meal, probably the kind of thing she makes for Tyler every morning, but it feels like something more. Like an offering of trust, maybe. Or forgiveness for the violence she had to witness.
"Eat," she says, settling into the chair across from me with her own plate. "You look like you haven't had a real meal in days."
She's not wrong about that either. I've been living on coffee and whatever I can grab between patrols, too focused on watching the shelter to worry about taking care of myself.
The eggs are perfect. Fluffy and seasoned just right, better than anything I've made for myself in years. The toast is buttered exactly the way I like it, crispy on the outside but still soft in the middle.
