Kate and I were working in a gray area. An unspoken quiet fell over us while we rode around town for a few hours. While she ran a couple of errands, I stood out by the bike, my arms firmly crossed.

Louisiana was rarely anything close to “cold”, but there was a surprising crispness to the air.

I was enjoying the fresh autumn sun as Kate wandered outside from her local bank. As she approached, I noted that her head was shaking with irritation and grief.

“Energy bill was high last month,” she groaned. “This fucking cold snap could have come, you know, a little earlier.”

“September’s usually a bit warmer I take it?”

She flashed me a glance. “It’s Louisiana. The only two goddamn seasons this place gets are Sweaty Summer and Christmas.”

I chuckled, but she didn’t care that the joke landed. “I’m down to the skin of my fucking teeth, Grizz. Never gonna make rent like this.”

“You’ll find a way,” I told her. “You were resourceful back in the day. I’m sure you haven’t lost your edge.”

“Maybe,” she groaned. “Wanna grab a bite?”

“Sure,” I nodded, helping her onto the back of my motorcycle. “Let’s get lunch.”

We settled on another diner in town. Over our toasted club sandwiches and chips, I was hoping to avoid more questions about my past.

That could wait.

“So, you said you guys did your biker shit out of a bar?” Kate asked, ignoring my hopes as she took another bite. “Tell me about this place.”

I turned away. “It was a temporary gift from a client we protected. She’s back in town, and we all knew it wouldn’t last forever. It’s only right we give the place back to her, and besides, there’s nobody out there looking for protection these days.”

“Wait, isn’t that good?”

“It’s bad for business,” I curtly smiled. “We did our job too damn well and there’s no bad guys left to protect people from. Criminals aren’t stupid. When word got out that the Devil’s Dragons were shining the light on the filth, the roaches scattered and got the hell out of our kitchen. Must have made one hell of an impression, because even here, our reputation precedes us.”

“You mean how Mark recognized your club?” she asked

“Like I said, we haven’t done business this far out before. It makes me wonder if it will be easier to find leads in New Orleans… or harder.”

“What exactly did you guys do?” Kate demanded, forcing my gaze to meet hers with the insistence in her voice. “Why does he know who you are, and why are you so surprised?”

I chewed on my words.

“That biker gang he’s joined,” I started to ask. “Who were they again, the Bayou Boys?”

She nodded agreement.

“Never heard of them. Far as I’m aware, we haven’t come across their club during our little adventures… But it’s not impossible that the things we’ve been up to have made their way out here. Particularly if they have anything to do with the arms dealer we took down…”

“Arms dealer?” She lifted an eyebrow.

She thought she was being coy, but I had been watching her carefully. Kate’s face had been growing flush during the conversation, and I could pick up on all those little signs…

Kate was an open book when we were teenagers. I knew all of her tells, and exactly when she was turned on.

Listening to me, trying to not stare at me… I knew that she was turned on.

So was I.

It was true. I still carried a torch for her, after all this time. I’d lost a lot of sleep at night, thinking of the days long past… and just being near her fucking did something to me all over again.

If only I can get her into my arms again…

“Arms dealer?” She repeated, lifting an eyebrow as she started to realize that this sexual frustration between us was a two-way street.

I opened my mouth to answer, but the waiter brought the check by. Glancing around, he quietly lowered himself down.

“Kate, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied cautiously.

“I used to wash dishes at Waffle Shack…” he said, but his face made it clear this wasn’t just some kid catching up with a long lost co-worker. I looked to Kate and saw a small spark of recognition.

“There’s someone looking around for you,” he told her. “You didn’t hear it from me… but they were in here first thing asking if you’d put in a job application. They said you might be with someone… Dangerous…”

He glanced up at me, trying to square his shoulders and look tougher than he was.

“Do you need my help?”

It was at this point I noticed the steak knife he was holding with a white knuckle death grip. I’d already had enough fucking knife fights in this shithole town, and I wasn’t about to take down a goddamned kid. Even so, my hand instinctively gripped the edge of the heavy table, ready to toss the thing into his face if he made a wrong move.

“He’s with me, and he’s not dangerous,” Kate said calmly. “But thank you…”

I slapped a few bills against the check and pushed it to the center of the table. “We appreciate the warning. Keep the change.”

The waiter nodded and quickly left us, having successfully completely fucked up the atmosphere. I put Kate on the back of her bike before mounting and heading off.

We headed straight for her home.

While I hung back as a lookout, she quickly unlocked the door. I followed her inside, walking into complete and utter chaos.

Furniture lay upended.

Books were torn and scattered.

Broken dishes lay across the floor.

It looked like we’d just missed the human typhoon that ran though this place. The same typhoon that was in town looking for us now…

“Mark,” Kate muttered in defeat. “Mark did this. Him and those meatheads he brings along wherever he goes.”

“Yes,” I agreed, lifting a broken plate to mindlessly examine it.

I wasn’t sure what to do.

What can I say to make this better?

“Were they waiting for us to leave?” Kate asked, turning to me suddenly. “Were they watching us last night?”

I placed the dish back down, running my fingers along the scattered pages. They seemed to have been ripped out in handfuls and tossed in the air, spread all over.

There was something about the pattern of destruction that painted a very clear picture to me.

“No, I don’t think so,” I noted.

“Then what?” She threw her hands up in frustration. “We weren’t even gone for more than a couple of hours!”

My fingers fell upon a broken frame. I lifted it carefully, not wanting to slice my fingers against the shattered glass.

I didn’t recognize the people.

Probably her family.

“Grizz?” She repeated.

“Your ex-boyfriend is emotional,” I concluded, rising up from my knees. “Possibly drunk.”

“Yeah? No shit, Sherlock.”

I ignored the need to glare at her.

“What I mean is that he wasn’t trying to send a message. This is a child throwing a tantrum.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“I don’t know what the hell he thought he was accomplishing by screwing up my apartment.”

“Think about it, Kate,” I pushed her. “Your car was sitting outside. He probably thought that you were home.”

Concerned, she bit her bottom lip.

“What do you think I should do?”

I sighed, glancing around the wreckage. “You’re not safe here. He’s going to come back…”

Kate groaned, her hand to her forehead. “I’m already struggling to pay the bills as it is… I can’t afford another apartment here! Christ, I’ve only had this place a few months…”

I let her vent for a minute, stepping around the countertop and into the kitchen. The floor crunched with broken glass and ceramic beneath my boots. Half the cabinets were emptied, and some of the doors dangled on their broken hinges.

He’d done a number on this place.

Did nobody else hear this? Why didn’t anyone call the cops?

“There is a solution,” I told her as I surveyed the damage. “You’re not going to like it, but it’s the only one that I have.”

“I know,” Kate answered bitterly.

As I turned back to face her, she looked up from the destruction that surrounded us. An entire conversation happened in that three seconds of eye contact, and I watched the defeat paint itself across her face.

“How long?” I asked her.

Her answer came with a sigh.

“Ten minutes. Maybe less.”

I nodded, excusing myself outside to play lookout while she scrambled across the apartment for anything that she needed.

Not much later, Kate stepped outside with a backpack slung over her shoulder. Locking the door behind herself, she stepped over to my motorcycle, gracefully mounting it behind me.

“The sooner we leave…”

“I know,” she stopped me. “Just take me to my landlord. She’s probably not home, but I can leave her a note and the keys. I owe her an explanation for ditching town with a trashed apartment. She knows what kind of guy Mark is. She’ll understand…”

Kate gave me the directions on the way. I kept my eyes peeled for any signs that we were being followed, but nobody seemed to take more than a fleeting interest in us.

As she’d predicted, the driveway was deserted. Kate pulled a notebook and pen from her backpack and hastily jotted down a note that explained the situation, ended with an apology, and taped the key to the paper. After folding and dropping it in the mail slot, she was back on my bike in less than three minutes.

Neither of us tried to exchange a single word as I took the bike back down to the interstate. We didn’t have to. All that mattered were the miles as we hit I-10 going eastward, and keeping Lafayette in the rearview mirrors.

I felt her settle in the seat behind me, her arms tightening aground my chest.

My heart was heavy for her.

Simply coming back into her life, even by pure accident, had already caused her so much grief.

But this time…

This time, things would be different. No matter what, I refused to make the same mistakes again. I would keep her safe. I would protect Kate with my life.

It’s so easy to make those promises.

But all the conviction in the world can’t do a damned thing when you’re up against enemies you can’t see coming.

And danger still surrounded us…