Page 12 of Hell Yes

In the past.

And she didn’t need anyone. She had Sam, who was like a father to her. He gave her a job when she landed here and rented her the apartment above the diner. It was small, a one bedroom with a tiny galley kitchen, but it had everything she needed. Her own space, quiet and clean. Val didn’t care for material things, except for her books. All she needed was her library and her peace. At twenty-three, most women her age were obsessed with makeup and hair, clothes, and cars. And sex. Val didn’t bother with the former and was curious about the latter. Still, she kept to herself.

Grabbing a rag and the spray cleaner, she got to work scrubbing every surface in the place. But despite her best efforts, and a now spotless diner, she still hadn’t gotten rid of the nervous feeling that sat in her belly like a dead weight.

It wasn’t just the guns that had shocked her, it was the men. Or rather, her reaction to the Jesse and Xander. Val still couldn’t believe she’d actually talked back to them. Normally she shied away from any confrontation. Or talking to people in general. God knows she kept her mouth shut when those guys from the Krypt crew walked in and pointed their guns in her face. She wasn’t stupid.

But the Hellraisers? The blond one, Jesse, and the flirty one, Xander? She had no problem sassing them.

Which was all kinds of crazy since pissing them off wouldn’t help Sam in any way. Val wasn’t sure what kind of mess Sam was walking into but being in league with these bikers was definitely dangerous.

Despite that, she didn’t fear the local crew.

Most people around town were the same. Everyone minded their own business and it made for a peaceful, quiet community. Only, now she knew about Sam’s gambling, and him getting involved with the Hellraisers, she worried.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the police?” Val murmured as she slid in the booth facing Sam.

Then she thought about what would happen if the police started asking questions about her life, where she came from, who she was. No way would she want her face on the local news. That was the last thing she needed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Val. Most of the local cops are involved with crews. No, I won’t do that. And neither will you.”

“Okay. As long as you’re sure?”

Sam nodded. “This gambling thing? It involves people from all walks of life, and I mean all. Judges, politicians, police. People in real high places, honey. My best bet—sorry bad pun—is the Hellraisers. Maybe if I work with them, they’ll protect me.”

“I wouldn’t count on that. They protect their own. Not outsiders.”

“How would you know?”

Val paused. She didn’t like talking about where she grew up. But this was Sam.

“I grew up in a place like that. Not a club, but a religious community. It’s the same thing. They don’t like or trust outsiders or anyone knowing their business. And if you want to do business with them, you have to become one of them.”

Sam downed the rest of his whiskey in one go and slammed the glass on the table.

“I got no choice. Done is done. And so is this conversation,” He sighed. “I’m gonna go help Callie with the dinner prep.”

Valery nodded and watched her friend and employer head to the kitchen.

She stared out the front window. The town was empty at this time of day, with only a handful of people walking around. One of their regulars, the local mailman, Bryan Kierlik, entered the diner and Val got back to her job.

It was surreal to think that only a short while ago, some guy had a gun to her head. Now she was pouring coffee and asking a customer if he wanted his usual sandwich platter for lunch. This day was bizarre, and it was just beginning.

“I got a letter for you. Figured I’d kill two birds with one stone,” Bryan remarked as he passed her the letter.

Val glanced at it but there was no return address. It wasn’t a bill or anything. Plus, her name had been written by hand. That was odd. She stuffed it into her pocket to look at later.

“Thanks.”

“Your boyfriend?”

Val wasn’t entirely surprised by the question as she glanced at him. Bryan was somewhere in his thirties, with a brown buzzcut and a beard. He was nice enough, but she felt nothing. He’d asked Val out several times, but she always said no. She had no desire to date. Dating meant questions and she didn’t want to answer about why she had no family, no past. It was fine. She was okay with being alone. Most of the time.

Sometimes, late at night, alone in her bed, she wondered what it would be like to be with a man. The urge for intimacy however was outweighed by her need for safety. Life was good the way it was. Why risk it?

“No. Probably just a bill.”

“I doubt that. Look at the handwriting.”