Sunlight peeked through the cracks of the blinds and soldiered through the curtains. Miranda groaned and rolled over into the firm warmth of Tyler's chest. She snuggled down, delight peppering her thoughts. His arms curled around her, tugging her naked body closer to his.
It was the perfect way to wake up.
Until forceful cracks rained down on the front door.
Miranda gasped and bolted up in bed, eyes wide. Her heart thrummed and a chill raced down her back. Her gaze flashed to Tyler as he pushed himself upright, glaring at the door. He exchanged a look with her, raising a finger to his lips. Her gaze flickered, worriedly, to the windows. The blinds and the curtains sufficiently shielded them from view, but paranoia still sunk into her thoughts.
After sliding soundlessly from the bed and pulling on his jeans, Tyler edged closer to the door. Miranda followed his lead, slipping from bed and tugging on her outfit from yesterday. Her eyes swung wildly around the motel room, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon.
On tiptoes, Tyler leaned closer to the door's peephole. A wisp of blonde hair caught his gaze before a stubbly jaw obscured everything from view.
“Tyler, it's me! Are you in there?” Jack's voice pierced through the door in a rushed hiss. The tension in Tyler's shoulders eased. He unlatched the door. Naomi and Jack spilled into the motel room.
“Jesus, are you two all right?” Miranda stepped forward, grasping her friend by the shoulders. Ruddy cheeked and panting, Naomi looked as if she had run the whole way from the diner to the motel. She trembled under Miranda's touch.
Jack paced across the room, his hands threading through his hair. “We were followed from the diner. I didn't want them to know where Naomi lived so we came here.”
“Bald, about six foot, nasty mean mug?” Tyler's hand rose to head height, waving approximately. Miranda's stomach coiled just hearing Baldie's description. The bruises on her elbow throbbed and she resisted the urge to rub at them.
“Yeah,” Jack turned to Tyler. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes darted to Miranda before flicking back to Tyler. Something clicked into place in his thoughts. The color slightly drained from his face as he motioned to the two of them. “Did he–”
“Last night,” Tyler nodded, hardly concealing his sour tone, “he almost got Miranda.”
Naomi gasped and slapped Miranda on the shoulder. “Why didn't you call me?”
“It sort of happened fast,” she replied as she rubbed the stinging impact. Her gaze averted to her feet. She couldn't very well tell Naomi she had passed out and spent the night with Tyler – not after the words she spewed about him the other night. Then again, she had misread Naomi's aversion to them. An embarrassed flush burned across Miranda's face. It seemed like she couldn't read anyone properly anymore.
“What do we do?” Jack approached Tyler, his voice dropping. His eyes darted to the women in the room and he leaned in closer. Tyler knew his brother didn't want to ignite a flare of panic, but it was hard to have a private conversation in the motel room. That fact didn't keep Jack from whispering, “It's only a matter of time until they figure out our motel.”
Jack didn't have to bother. Naomi leaned closer to Miranda, and murmured, “Hey, Miranda, can we talk real quick?”
“Sure, Naomi, what's u–” Before she could finish, Naomi latched onto her arm and tugged her into the bathroom. She shut the door solidly behind them as she paced the floor. Miranda inched to the opposite side of the bathroom, her shins smacked against the small bathtub.
She watched Naomi make three round before she dared to inquire, “What's this about?”
Naomi turned sharply, a flush still burning along her cheeks. Her eyes were bright and glassy, caught between excitement and terror. Miranda swallowed down instant uncertainty. “I'm pregnant.”
“What?” Miranda gasped, feeling like all the air was knocked from her lungs. She took a step closer to Naomi. “You mean last ni–”
“No! Like, three weeks ago.”
Miranda's eyebrows furrowed, wondering if Naomi was freaking out prematurely over a late period. “You mean the one night you and Jack were together?”
“Yes!”
Something was not computing in Miranda's head. How could Naomi be pregnant? She was an experienced barfly with precision birth control. Hell, Miranda swore she tracked her ovulation dates just to be extra careful! Without meaning to, Miranda's tone squeaked higher, “Aren't you on birth control?”
An uncertain knock clattered across the door. The women jumped, their gazes turning to the offending entryway. On the other side, Jack's concerned voice wafted through, “Everything all right in there?”
“Yes!” Naomi winced as the single word came out as a squawk. She clamped her lips shut, listening for retreat of Jack's footfalls, before turning back to Miranda. She pinned her friend under that bright-eyed, watery gaze. “I am, but it failed or something. I don't know. All I know is there's a bun in the oven, Miranda.”
Learning from her mistake, Miranda dropped her voice low, “How do you know it's Jack's?”
“Timing and I haven't been with anyone since.”
“Really?” Incredulity puckered at her thoughts. Her friend was constantly using and losing men. She had a faster turnover rate than most retail workplaces. Did Jack mean something to her? The thought made Miranda's heart jitter in pleasant heat. Naomi finding someone she loved, absolutely and dearly, had been an event she looked forward to. Too bad it involved bikers running away from a life-threatening situation.
Naomi hissed, not even perturbed by Miranda's surprise, “Yes!”
Silence fell. The bathroom suddenly felt hot and stuffy. Miranda reached over to the switches, flicking on the fan. The mechanisms clanked and creaked to life, buzzing like an oversized hornet above their heads. “Does Jack know?”
“No,” muttered Naomi, hanging her head. The woman sounded on the verge of tears. She sniffed loudly and wiped something away from her eye.
Miranda clasped at her friend's shoulder. Tears swelled in her own eyes. She could just imagine Naomi's thoughts and worries mirrored her own. “Okay. What are you going to do?”
“What can I do?” She wailed, her hands digging into her blonde tresses. She pulled away and paced the length of the small bathroom. Once she perched herself on the edge of the bathtub, she whined, “I don't know. When Jack came back, I thought maybe he'd stay, but then all of...” She trailed off and waved her hand around, “This happened.”
“I know what you mean,” sighed Miranda as she sat down on the toilet lid. A silence descended again. The heat in the bathroom didn't alleviate much, but the fan cranked a small breeze.
Miranda's options looped through her head: stay in Legacy and risk death or escape over the border. Her gaze flickered to Naomi. Beautiful, blonde, pregnant Naomi who was currently biting her bottom lip and fending off tears. She couldn't leave her behind.
But, she'd be a fool to think that was the only reason.
Her stomach flipped and she drew her gaze away from her friend, as if she could read her thoughts. Miranda wanted to stay with Tyler. She wanted to help him. She didn't care the price. In her head, her family spewed degradation and disappointment. In her heart, however, warmth pounded through her arteries. She'd never forgive herself if any of them died while she was sunning on a beach in Italy or eating bonbons in France.
“We should get back out there,” breathed Miranda, knowing her choice had been made. She glanced at Naomi from the corner of her eye. “We should talk to the guys.”
Naomi's gaze flickered up and then to the door. Apprehension twisted through her limbs. Her blue glaze hardened, a decision met and she stood. “Yeah, let's get out there.”
* * *
As soon as Miranda and Naomi stepped into the bank, co-workers and regulars flanked around them. The questions hurtled out of mouths. The scent of perfume and cologne tinged the air, making Miranda's nerves even sicker than they already were.
“Are you okay?”
“What was wrong?”
“Are those stitches?”
Naomi answered, with a polite smile plastered to her lips, “Yes, I'm fine. The doctors aren't sure what was wrong. Yeah, I needed a couple stitches from bonking my head on the counter.”
The chatter all sounded like a dull roar in Miranda's ears, though. She needed to get to her office and get a work-at-home laptop. The work-from-home program was underway for expectant mothers, instituted by Miranda's sister-in-law. As such, the laptops were stored in her office, in a secured cabinet only she had a key for.
At the soonest possible moment, she peeled herself away from the group of well-wishers. Naomi could handle them on her own. Once she padded over to her office, she quietly closed the door and flicked on the light. Someone was bound to ask her why she was taking a laptop home and she didn't want any over-concerned busybody informing her family. It would only be a matter of time until they heard about Tyler being back in town. Again.
Her office was just the way she had left it – droll and boring. Her eyes flickered onto the almost unseen seam in the wall. Digging the key out of her packet, Miranda advanced on the wall. It was a fake covering for the cabinet where security objects were kept: lost debit cards found around town, résumés for every tier of employment, laptops, USB sticks for information tech, forms for large withdrawals or deposits that required her presence. Her fingers pried at the seam and, with effort, she managed bend the wall outward. Clasps finally gave way and the wall swung out toward her. Behind the false wall, was the unremarkable face of a grey cabinet.
An itch scurried across her flesh, as if the inanimate object peered at her dubiously. She shoved the key into the keyhole and turned. The tumblers fell away with a cacophony of clicks.
“Mi-Miranda?”
“What is-” She stopped mid-sentence after her gaze swung to the doorway. Standing in the doorjamb was Naomi, assisted by a familiar scowl. Baldie leered at her from behind a pain of new, unbroken sunglasses.
She scurried into the office, almost throwing herself across the floor as Baldie stepped, nonchalantly, into the room. Miranda scuttled closer to her friend, hoisting her onto her feet. He closed the door behind him. Quietly, the lock slid into place, a threatening promise on the silent air. She got the innate feeling his gaze swung around her office with disdain. “So, where's your lovers?”
Miranda gathered her false sense of bravado. “Those losers? No clue.”
“Losers? Come now,” Baldie's features flashed to Miranda's face. Behind his sunglasses, she could see the lurid glint in his eye, “You don't have low self-esteem.”
He had lost her. “What?”
“Well, I know for a fact you stayed the night at a dinky little motel room with Red.”
Miranda pursed her lips, her cheeks bit with a blush. She tried to will the embarrassment away. Of course she had sex with Tyler; that was a given. Yet, she didn't want this stranger to know the extent of their relationship.
She turned her back on him as she grabbed the laptop and a handful of papers. As a second thought, she also snagged a folder, wrapping it around the computer. If he saw her take a laptop, warning bells would surely go off in his head. She closed the cabinet, but not the faux wall.
Baldie swaggered into the office, the room temperature falling with his every step. He leaned his hip against the desk and peered over his sunglasses at them. His eyes shone sharp and merciless like a hawk leering at prey. “What are you doing now?”
“Why should we tell you?” Naomi huddled close to Miranda's elbow. Waves of frustration and uncertainty emanated from her. Caught between self-preservation for her unborn child's sake and her own temper, Miranda knew Naomi struggled.
“Now, now, now,” Baldie raised his hands as his level voice filled the air, “I don't want to see anything bad happen to you, but, well, Pete wants all loose ends severed, if ya know what I mean.”
Miranda didn't like the smile that quirked at his lips. Obviously, he didn't have many qualms with fulfilling Pete's wishes. Even if that meant offing two women. She suppressed a shudder, wondering what else he might do to them. She steeled herself against the thoughts. Tyler and Jack wouldn't let anything like that happen. Well, while they were alive, at least.
Naomi's eyebrows furrowed, though. “Who's Pete?”
“Playing dumb isn't cute, sweetheart.” Baldie scowled and Miranda could hear his eyes roll. For a tense moment, with silence bubbled between them, they stared each other down. Finally, he tore his gaze away, sighed, and shrugged his huge shoulders. “Well, your only options are to stick by your guys ‘til the bitter end or help me, really.”
Miranda wanted to scoff. Did this guy never hear of passports or foreign countries? Or was he trying to take advantage of their flustered state? Whatever his reason, she didn't need to let on her third option. She teased her voice with faux hope, “Help you?”
“You dolls are close to them. Help me corner them and freedom is yours,” the man said, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
Miranda refrained from pursing her lips. “Why?”
“I'll tell Pete you don't know anything and we'll all be on our happy way.” Baldie gave them a gracious smile, as if he were offering them a bit of charity. “I'll take those nasty boys out of your lives and you'll stay here in this,” he rolled the word off his tongue as if it were bile, “charming town.”
“How do we know you're telling the truth?” Naomi stepped up, but didn't get too far from Miranda “You could double-cross us.”
He raised his hands to his forehead and jerked his fingers in salute. “Scout's honor.”
“That doesn't mean jackshit to me,” growled Miranda. A prickly burr stuck to her thoughts. He had come very close to insulting Legacy, but the intention was there. Still in the air, still in her thoughts.
“Look, I'll be too busy taking those boys back to Pete that you two could do any damn thing you want,” he said as he turned toward Miranda's desk. She tensed, her stomach roiling as he invaded her personal workspace. He rummaged around, tugging a piece of paper from her notepad. The sound of it tearing shrieked through the air. He pulled a pen from a container and scribbled something down. “Get out of town, go somewhere foreign – your family is rich, Ms. Groves – and enjoy your lives without those deadbeats bringing you down.”
Miranda paused, her stomach coiling unhappily. He knew about her family and her third option. Not that it would have taken much to figure that bit out, or find out they were well-off. The fact he had dug so far sent a sick swirl into her stomach. They may not see eye-to-eye with Miranda, but her family was still hers.
He crossed the distance between them, note outstretched. Miranda clutched at the papers and hidden laptop in one hand. Naomi returned to her side, almost glued to her hip. Her gaze dipped from the man's face to the paper he offered. She weighed the options, briefly, before reaching for the note.
Her fingers clasped around the paper, just as the man spoke, “My number. Give me a call if you'd like to wise up.”
As soon as Miranda relieved the information from his hand, he backed away. Despite his size and strength, he apparently thought the two women weren't helpless enough to turn his back on them. As he opened the door, he tossed them a lazy wave and a half-cocked smirk. Soon, he crossed the lobby and disappeared out the front door.
The two women stood in the office, staring at the man as he left. People cast curious glances into the room, looking away quickly as they saw the expressions on their faces. Miranda stared down at the piece of paper. Baldie's presumable cellphone number stained the paper.
She turned sharply back to the cabinet, tucking the paper into the folder with the rest. After securing the cabinet, she gently pushed the fake wall back into place before Naomi spoke. “Do you think he was telling the truth?”
“Which part?”
“About Pete wanting loose ends severed.” Something shook in Naomi's voice.
Miranda's tension eased. Her friend didn't just have her own safety to worry about. She had her child's. Even if all of this ended, would her child be safe? Miranda tried to force a reassuring smile to her lips. “He probably said that to scare us, Naomi.”
Naomi stared out the doorway. Her brows furrowed and her face pale. She swallowed and shook her head, her own halfhearted smile to her lips. “You're right. Do we have everything?”
Miranda nodded, relieved to escape the bank. She waited for someone else to come barging in and threatening their plans, like her father. “Let's go.” She threw one last glance at her office before flicking the light off. Mingling emotions clashed in her head – uncertainty for the future, comfort in the familiar, and sadness having to say goodbye, even temporarily. She tightened her grip on the laptop still hidden in her hands. If she didn't help Tyler, he and Jack would die. Where would that leave her and Naomi? Where would that leave Naomi and Jack's child?
With a sense of purpose, she cut the power to the office and closed the door.