Edge Of Fear (Arrow's Edge MC Book 4) by Freya Barker (top rated books of all time .TXT) 📕

I have a feeling that won’t go over well. Inside I’m giving my niece a high five. I hope that kid will think twice before picking on someone again.

“Oh, shut up,” Bianca grumbles. “You’re grinning ear to ear, aren’t you? And I’m stuck here with a grounded, prepubescent holy terror.”

“Mo-om!” I hear my niece’s cry in the background.

“Oh for Pete’s sake, can’t I even talk to my sister in peace?”

“Is that Auntie Soph? I wanna talk to her.”

There is a rustling as the phone transfers hands and then I hear Reagan’s voice, sweet as punch.

“Auntie Soph? Can I come live with you?”

The next twenty minutes I spend listening to my niece rant and attempt to talk some reason into her. In the end, I have her hand the phone back to her mother so I can say goodbye.

“You know, I could put her on a flight this morning,” Bianca offers with a hint of a plea.

“Oh, Sis, wish I could help, but I work crazy hours. Maybe later this summer I can take some time—”

“I’m just kidding,” she interrupts. “We’ll be fine.”

We say our goodbyes and I carry my bowl to the small sink.

I like the apartment, it has the basic things I need, but I’ll be glad when I have some more room to move about. A bigger kitchen where I can prepare actual meals instead of the hotplate and small microwave I have here. Sandra is wonderful, she’s Jaimie’s mother, who is married to one of the MC brothers, Trunk. She reminds me a little of my mother, but without the boundary issues.

Last Monday I was finally able to meet up with Meredith and Jay, the nice couple I talked to at the restaurant a few weeks ago, to see the rental property. I fell in love with the A-frame on the spot. Exposed beams, massive windows, an awesome loft with a bedroom and bath. The kitchen is one I can see myself spending a lot of time in when I’m not sitting out on the deck, enjoying the stunning view.

It’ll all be mine in a month.

Oh, yeah, I can’t wait.

I take my time applying my makeup and getting dressed for work. I’ve always worked a nine-to-five job, so these restaurant hours took some time getting used to. Especially working evenings and weekends. But Monday is a day off because the Backyard is closed, and Ouray insisted I take one additional day a week.

So far I haven’t yet, I felt I had too much to learn, but maybe this week I’ll take Tuesday as well. It’ll give me a chance to call a mover and book a date to move my furniture here, and maybe do a little shopping. I’d like to pick up a few things now that I’ve seen the place. Meredith offered to leave some of her furniture for me to use, which was very kind, but I really want to put my own stamp on the place. Make it mine, even though I’m just renting.

I wave at Sandra, who is weeding her flowerbeds in front of the house, as I get into my Jeep. I’ll sure miss our occasional chats when I leave.

It looks like Bernie beat me to the restaurant; his car is parked at the edge of the parking lot. We are always the first two to get here. Bernie is often already inside by the time I arrive. He’s responsible for the food prep, but more so he likes to be here for the food deliveries in the morning. I like to get an hour or so in on paperwork before the interruptions start with the arrival of the rest of the staff.

I pull into my spot—a little closer to the building—grab my bag and get out.

It’s not until I’m a few steps away, I notice the back door isn’t quite latched. Bernie must not have pulled it shut all the way.

“Morning!” I call out as I step inside, but there’s no response.

I pass by my closed office door and head straight for the kitchen. The moment I round the corner I know something is wrong.

The kitchen is a mess. Boxes of the produce delivered daily are toppled over on the floor, which is littered with vegetables. Then I see a pair of legs sticking out from behind the prep table.

“Bernie!”

He’s facedown and the back of his head is bloodied, but when I touch his neck to feel for a pulse, I hear a soft moan.

“Hang in there, Bernie. I’ll get help.”

With shaking hands I pull out my phone and dial 911.

Tse

“So the front is facing north?”

Paco points at the concept drawings I made him.

Apparently, his land at one time had a building on it and he wants to use the remaining foundation as the footprint for a house.

“Northeast actually. That’s a good thing, you’ll get the most out of your sun-hours at the back of the house.”

We’re sitting in front of the clubhouse at one of the picnic tables, having a coffee and soaking up the sun. It’s the quietest place we could find to spread out the drawings since the clubhouse table is filling up with late risers eating breakfast.

“Is that a second deck?”

“Yeah, off the master bedroom. That whole wing is the master suite. The main deck is off the kitchen at the back.”

“Gonna cost.”

I chuckle. “Yes, it is, but this is just a concept, you don’t need to build that second wing. You can go smaller, if it’s just for you.”

I look at him with an eyebrow raised but he stares me straight in the eye, not flinching. He’s not biting.

“How long?” he finally asks.

“Brother, that depends on a lot of things, but using that existing foundation is gonna save a chunk of time. Still, even if you can find an architect who can draw up these plans on short notice, you’ll still need a crew who can start right away.”

“I’ve got brothers.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure everyone is gonna chip in, but you’ll need someone in charge