Edge Of Fear (Arrow's Edge MC Book 4) Freya Barker (8 ebook reader TXT) 📖

He hesitates for a fraction before he walks in, shuts the door, and sits down across from me.

“What’s up?” His tone is almost defensive. “I’ve got to get back to my kitchen.”

“Won’t be long,” I placate him. “I understand Agent Gomez spoke to you this morning as well?”

Gomez was around when I got here earlier, talking to some of the staff. I’d been pissed at first he’d go ahead without me there, but he calmly told me Ouray had been informed.

“Yes,” is his curt answer. “Drugs in my kitchen. Still don’t see how something like that could’ve been kept from me.”

I shrug. “That wasn’t my call to make, Chris. It does leave us with staffing issues now business is picking up.”

He harrumphs, looking at me impatiently.

“I was hoping to get your input. At least for kitchen staff. Know any good line cooks? Maybe even two. Have any ideas?”

His expression mellows a fraction.

“Not off the top of my head, no, but I’ve got some connections. I can ask around.”

“That would be great. Let me know.”

“Sure.” He stares at me for a few beats. “Was that all?”

It had been all, but now I have him here…

“Actually, is everything all right with you?”

I can almost see his hackles go up.

“Why? Someone complain?”

“No complaints, just my observation. You seem…a bit sharper than your usual self.”

His eyes drift over my shoulder to the small window over my credenza. It’s too high to get any kind of view, but at least it lets in some daylight, otherwise this office would be a dark dungeon.

“It’s Rick.”

I wait. I have no idea who Rick is, since Chris doesn’t talk about anything other than pertaining to the restaurant. When it looks like nothing more is forthcoming—he seems lost in thought—I finally prompt him.

“Rick?”

His gaze drops to me and I’m shocked to find a deep well of emotion visible in his eyes.

“My partner. He was diagnosed with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis last week.”

I suck in a sharp breath. I didn’t know he had a partner to begin with, and that is a devastating diagnosis.

“ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease,” he explains.

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs. “It is what it is. We’ll deal.”

“Look, if there’s anything I can do. Do you need time off?”

I don’t know how the hell I’m going to make that work but I’ll think of something.

“Hell no,” he says, getting to his feet. “Rick doesn’t want me underfoot and I need to stay busy.”

“If that changes, let me know?”

He nods but doesn’t say anything when he disappears into the hall.

The moment he’s gone I burst into tears.

Jesus.

What on earth is the matter with me?

_______________

“I’m so sorry.”

Tse looks over at me and grins.

“Don’t apologize. It was fine.”

It’s clear he’s lying. Hell, I don’t have to look at him to know the last few hours have been a chore. Especially for a man like him. I know my parents. My mother, to be more specific. Duff just lets everything roll off his back—the embodiment of chill—while Blossom is a lot. Of everything. All well-intentioned and coming from a huge heart, but despite her small stature she can be like a tidal wave.

It’s not for nothing all us kids had to escape to become our own person.

“You get done what needed doing?” he wants to know, taking my hand and weaving our fingers, as he not so subtly changes the topic.

“And then some.” I sigh deeply. “Turns out Chris’s partner is very sick. ALS.”

“Shit. That’s not good.”

“No.”

“Does that mean more scheduling problems for you?”

I glance over at him and see warm concern in his eyes. Despite this morning’s spat, I’m starting to think I’ve struck gold with this man.

“He says he needs to stay busy.”

He nods. “Understandable.”

My mother is already waiting beside the ugliest motor home I’ve ever laid eyes on. Not the picture she painted when she mentioned they’d bought an RV. I wouldn’t have trusted it to drive to town, let alone all the way from Arizona here.

“My beautiful Sophia!” she exclaims when I get out of the passenger side, and immediately folds me into a tight hug.

“Blossom,” I mumble, letting the familiar feel and smell of her envelop me.

Despite our differences she still feels like home, even though she won’t let me call her Mom. I tried for years, as did my siblings, but she insisted it was a label. She doesn’t believe in them, feels it minimizes who she is, and only wants to be known as Blossom.

“Let me have a look at you,” she says, pushing me back by the shoulders and squinting her eyes.

She does this a lot. Claims to be able to read people’s auras. “Hmmmm,” she hums thoughtfully, but to my surprise she says nothing else.

It’s not often she doesn’t share her ‘findings’ and is usually eager to impart her wisdom, but this time she stays mum, which is a little disconcerting.

We find Duff in the back, holding a one-sided conversation with Van, who appears fascinated, even though he can’t possibly understand a word being said.

“There’s my baby,” he calls out when he spots me.

Another big hug, one in which I’m forcefully swayed from side to side. Signature Duff.

“Do you like the new wheels?” he asks when he finally lets me go.

“Is it safe?” immediately comes to mind and out of my mouth.

He looks a little hurt. “Baby-girl, I’ve fixed it up myself.”

It’s on my lips to say that doesn’t make me feel any better, but I hold myself in.

“It sure is handy,” I opt for.

“That it is,” he beams at me. “Our new house on wheels. We plan to roam the country in it. Stopped here first, then we’re heading in the direction of Montana. Then Washington state, Oregon—of course we’ll stop in at Bianca’s—south to California, and from there we’re hitting up Arlo in Vegas. Do a little gambling. After that the plans are open.”

“That’s…ambitious.”

Not quite the word I’m thinking—insanity—but I manage to hold it back.

“Been picking Tse’s brain on good places to go. He’s a biker.” Duff lowers his