“Thank you.”
In silence, we tucked and tightened the cover where needed.
“After raising a little Hell, I’ve learned a thing or two.” Her meaning was lost on me, but I listened as she further explained, “The Furies will pass through our town and move on.” Mae bent over and grabbed some leaves that had already fallen to the ground, then sprinkled them over the crispy clean cover.
Realizing this woman was no stranger to hiding, I immediately started to follow suit. “I seem to be at a loss for words.”
“The thing about age, young man, is that you get real good at reading people.” She swiped her hands together to clean them of leaves and dirt. “You’ve had a gun in my face, yet I still know you are good people.” She rested her hands on her hips. “And, as far as that beautiful woman you’re protecting, I haven’t seen that kind of innocence since my granddaughter was six.” She exhaled. “If the Hell Furies do come here, kill her before they get their hands on her.”
There was no stopping my stagger backward. “You know them.”
Staring down the road, her jaw went rigid. “I’m only telling you this so that you know you can trust me. My granddaughter is the result of a violent,” her eyes met mine again, “and I mean violent…” she struggled to finish the sentence.
Exhaling, I nodded. “I understand.”
The woman swallowed. “They left my daughter for dead.” Horror was hidden in the older woman’s blue eyes. “It’s the only reason I still have her. It is the only reason I’m blessed to now have both of them.”
Damn. I vowed, “If it comes to it, a bullet will fly.” I stared at the house that was shielding Sal and Scarlett. “No one will ever hurt her like that,” I looked to Mae so she understood what I was trying to save Scarlett from, “again.”
After a hiccup of shock, Mae’s eyes slid shut.
Back inside the house, Sal was glued to Scarlett. She even complained when turning around and bumping into him. “Sal! I am trying to be a chef!” She never noticed the gun he was palming.
“Scarlett,” I asked, “will you be angry if I speak Italian to Sal for a bit?”
“Not if it will get him out of my way.” She moved around him to get to the refrigerator. “I need cheese, please.”
“Sal!” I teased, to keep Scarlett less suspicious. “Let the woman handle this kitchen!”
“Yes,” she celebrated. “I am cooking!” Barefoot, she wore light blue pajamas with clouds on them. They reminded me of how much I wanted to touch the sky with her.
Backing away, Sal told me, “This breakfast is going to make us sitting ducks against the bikers because we will be stuck on toilets, shitting our brains out.”
My stomach soured as I witnessed Scarlett dump crumbled Blue Cheese into the pan of burning eggs. “Oh, sweet God. Protect my innards.”
“We have to eat it.”
I could feel my body start to sweat in fear. “I know. If we don’t, it will break her heart.”
“I’ll search for Pepto Bismol, but first, talk to me. Do we run with her?”
Trying to decode, I ran a nervous palm down my face. “We have a solid deal here. Mae is trying to help us.”
“Hard to find that. I can see you trust her.”
I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Shit. Lorenzo knows we have her, doesn’t he?”
“It seems so, yes.”
I explained what Mae had said to me, about the Hell Furies being so soulless.
“Maybe the Steel Stallions are not the ones with the ‘prospect’?”
I trembled, watching Scarlett add Greek olives into the now curdling and blackening eggs. “There was honor in the Stallion President’s voice. I don’t think they hurt—” I was going to say Scarlett but didn’t want her to recognize her name. “Dove.”
“Do we dare reach out to them again? Tell them where the grey-eyed girl is—was?”
“I don’t think we should do anything to draw any attention to ourselves.” I stared at our chef.
“Angelo, these Hell Furies may be headed to that house after here. That poor girl—”
I needed no reminders of my guilt, so I snapped, “Then her fucking father should have done his job and protected her. He failed her. A mistake I will not make.”
He raised his hands. “Alright. Alright.”
“Where she is, is not my fault.”
“You’re right. Breathe.” Sal watched Scarlett come to me.
She laid her hand on my chest and peered up. “Stop worrying. You will keep me safe.”
I needed to feel her. I was wound tight. My hand raced to the back of her head and gripped her hair. No one will ever fucking hurt you again. I pressed my lips to hers.
“Maybe it is best if we tie you up for your first time with her.” Sal chuckled, heading toward the pan that was screaming for mercy. “Let go of her hair, Angelo.”
I loosened my hold but put our foreheads together, my exhales brushing across the mouth I wanted to possess and positively claim.
Her hands went to my waist, amping me up even more.
Sal teased, “I’m not sure what is sadder, this poor omelet,” he slid it onto a plate with a clunk, “or how bad you want to fuck her.”
Scarlett stared at me as if there was no one or anything else in the room. Her labored exhales told me she was hungry, too, but I knew she didn’t understand what for just yet. So, I released her. “Let’s eat your wonderful breakfast.”
“And plan our funerals. Oh, God,” Sal gagged, “it smells so bad.” He laid a fork on the plate, then slid it toward the barstool where I was headed.
After I took a bite, I was grateful to be sitting. My legs would’ve crumbled at the horrid flavor.
Scarlett beamed. “Is it good?”
My throat refused to swallow. “Oh, yes. So good I think I should share with Sal.”
He whimpered.
After two long days, I received a text from Mae sharing that the Hell Furies had left town. Then weeks passed. Confident again that we were alone in the mountains, we focused on Scarlett again, answering any questions she had about ‘healthy’ sex. Scarlett was growing more and more curious, and it was becoming painful to keep holding her at bay. I was thankful she was still asleep, arms and legs sprawled across me and Sal as if she had not a worry in the world. She was now sleeping so soundly. Us being in her bed made her nightmares fade. It was a wonderful time while hiding Scarlett. The three of us were together, as always, but we were growing even closer.
It helped so much to know Mae and our realtor were staying true to their word, remaining epically discreet about the two Italian men and the pretty girl.
At the dining room table, as all three of us were putting a puzzle together, Scarlett asked, “What else do I need to know to be a good lover?”
I choked on my water. Our break was over.
Grinning, Sal placed a puzzle piece in its proper place. “Umm, let’s see… Oh, openness. Explain to him—or her—”
Sal shrugged when he saw my glare. “What? Who am I to judge?”
Gasp! “I could choose a woman as my lover?”