Kaci

 

The bell hanging over the front entrance to Walter's World of War rang violently, its brass clapper banging like crazy, as the door opened.

 

I was in the back stacks, sorting through some items that had been misplaced. I mean, really, who would put The Crippled Eagles in the World War II section? I tucked the book under my arm and came around the corner of the shelf. “Hey,” I called out. “How are-”

 

“Kaci?”

 

I stopped in my tracks, nearly dropped my copy of the out of print book right there on the floor. I shook my head from side-to-side. “No fucking way,” I said, my voice almost gone from surprise.

 

There, in all her glory, stood Sydney. Still thin as a rail, with her high-pitched voice. She'd dyed her hair black, pitch black, and had gotten her eyebrow pierced. But, yeah, that was her, grinning from ear to ear.

 

I ran to her, she ran to me, and we met in the middle like the Germans and the Allies at the Battle of the Bulge. I'd been doing some reading in my downtime, okay?

 

We circled around, our arms clasped around the other. “Oh my god,” I said, realizing there were tears squeezing out from the corners of my eyes.

 

“I hardly recognized you without makeup,” Sydney said.

 

“Me?” I asked. “You, with your black hair and piercings.” I laughed as we broke apart and looked her up and down.

 

“Yeah, well, I can wear what I want now, right?” she replied, still grinning.

 

We went in, hugged again, laughed louder. Loud enough that I heard Wally's chair shift in the back room. “Andrea? You alright out there?” he asked in his quavering voice.

 

“Yeah, Wally!” I called back. “Mind if I take my lunch early? Old friend just came by.”

 

“Oh, go ahead. It's raining today, so it'll probably be slow. Take all the time you need.”

 

I grabbed my purse from behind the counter. I grabbed Sydney's hand as I flew past her and dragged her out into the Seattle mist.

 

“Where are we going?” she asked, laughing.

 

“Coffee shop!” I said. “I haven't been able to talk to anyone in months unless it was about Napoleon's campaigns or the Civil War, girl!”

 

“Months?” Sydney asked and sighed.

 

We got into the coffee shop and ordered our drinks. Despite how empty the place was, we still kept the really deep chit chat, like what was going on with the F&BMC to a minimum while we waited. I wanted to be somewhere quiet and secluded before we went into all that.

 

After our drinks finally came, we headed off into the back area, with its small coffee table and overstuffed chairs. I cradled my cappuccino between two hands and settled down. Sydney took the seat across from me, and after a quick glance around to make sure no one was paying any close attention to us, our words came out in a mutual avalanche.

 

“How's the MC?” I asked.

 

“Have you heard from Micah?” Sydney asked at the same time.

 

We both laughed. “Okay,” I said, “you go first. You're the one who came all the way up here, right?”

 

She grinned. “Yeah,” she said in that high-pitched voice of hers, “things are going great. You have no idea. I managed to get the info out of that,” she dropped her voice low, “FBI agent on where to find you. I just wanted to see how you were doing, and to say thank you.”

 

“She didn't happen to tell you where to find Micah, did she?” I asked.

 

“You guys still haven't spoken?” she asked, making a face.

 

I shook my head and took a sip of coffee. I set the mug aside, frowning. “Still won't let us even know where the other is. He could be in Oregon for all I know.”

 

“I just don't get it,” my friend said. “We're all safe. Petrov hasn't come after the club at all. I mean, Hell, I still work there.”

 

“Yeah? How's that going?” I asked, wanting to change the subject from Micah. It was painful to even think about, especially after my dream the night before.

 

She smiled coyly, almost conspiratorially. “I started dating one of the guys.”

 

I grinned, my eyebrows waggling. “In the club?”

 

She nodded.

 

“He cute?”

 

She grinned wider and pulled out her phone. She flipped through, showing me the pictures. He was cute as Hell, but still looked like a nice guy. Thankfully none of their dirtier shots came up as we went through the images.

 

As we went through the shots, though, my mind wandered back to Micah. We couldn't have that, the picture taking, the smiles, the feel of our bodies against each other, the taste of our lips.

 

None of it.

 

Sydney must have noticed the change in my expression. “Kaci, honey,” she said. “You need to talk to that agent, see if there's a way for you guys to be together. Like I said, Efraim hasn't come after us. Things are fine.”

 

I knew why he hadn't gone after them, though. It was because Micah took all the heat on the deal. Now, Efraim was focused on him. I shook my head, saying, “With Efraim still out and in control, we're not safe, girl. He casually ordered us executed in that park, had Quentin murdered. As soon as we set foot in town, we'll have bullseyes on our backs. Even if we found each other, somehow, and stayed away, we'd always be looking back over our shoulder.”

 

Sydney sighed and frowned. “Yeah, you're probably right.” She reached across and grabbed my hand, squeezed it tight. “Still sucks, though.”

 

I smiled a wistful little smile. “Yeah,” I said, squeezing back. “It sure does.”

 

# # #

Micah

 

I was standing at the edge of the dealership's main building, staring out into the sun-beaten lot, sucking down bad coffee from a cheap Styrofoam cup. My starched dress shirt itched my skin, the collar dug into my neck, and my tie felt ugly, like it was choking me. Even my face was irritated from the fresh shave that morning.

 

This was bullshit. Absolute bullshit.

 

I was wasting my life, here. Not only did I not have Kaci by my side, but I couldn't ride my bike either. I had to wake up every morning, work a shitty job I hated. And the only consolation I had was getting to rub one out after my subconscious delivered up a hot dream.

 

I could just leave, though. I knew I could. I could start searching for my woman. Go high and low, looking everywhere. Just take what money I had, buy a cheap, reliable car from the owner here, then take off. Start in one state and zigzag across the country. Start someplace like Maine, then come back down through the states, stopping at each one.

 

Better yet, I'd start in Washington, work my way down to Oregon, then through to California. Check in every coffee shop, tattoo parlor, bar, book store. You name it, I could search it.

 

I took another sip of coffee, the bitter brew filling my mouth. It had been on the burner since the early hours of the morning, and it had picked up that acrid flavor a while ago.

 

As I swallowed it down, though, I realized that finding her wouldn't accomplish a damn thing. What made me think I was so damned special that I could find her and outwit the Russian mob while we went into hiding? Why did I think I could get away with it, when no one else had?

 

All it would do if I found her was put a target around our necks. What use would it be to get her back, just to be torn apart again right after? And, that time, forever? How much more bitter it would be to watch as Kaci was put in the ground?

 

If The Bear found us, the one that died first would be the luckier of the two. The one that lived would be stuck and alone until the ground ate them up, too.

 

No, if we were going to be back together, I had to put that crazy idea out of my head.

 

I frowned and poured out the rest of my coffee.

 

Efraim had to go first. No other way about it.