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I slipped my hot pink apron over my head Thursday morning and tried not to think about the last time I wore it. My dreaded return to The Scoop had finally arrived and I hated being there. It made me feel edgy, nervous, and just plain sick really.

And after talking to the two officers yesterday the guilt was eating me alive. People were looking for Randy. His family was looking for him. And I knew what had happened to him. They were never going to find him. I was fairly certain his body was long gone. He'd be missing forever. Forgotten in a sea of lost faces. Was not knowing worse than the truth for his family? If it was, I could give them some form of closure. Didn't they deserve that?

Then again, I didn't know much of Randy's family, but what I did know was that they weren't very nice people. But no one should outlive their child. No one.

Deep down I knew I couldn't say anything right now. Possibly never if I wanted to protect myself and my mom and dad. It wasn't up to me and I shouldn't feel guilty for the actions of a bunch psychotic gangster assassins. And yet as the only sane person involved I felt like I took on the most responsibility it a weird way.

I shook my head. No, I wasn't one of them. I was being forced to work for them not with them. Trying to calm my racing heart I counted backwards from ten before heading out into the shop.

"Sorry you're working alone today, kiddo." Bobby's voice rang out as he came out of his office while I took up my place behind the counter.

I managed some semblance of a smile for him and shrugged, "Don't worry about. I'll be fine." My voice sounded strained even to my own ears.

Bobby grinned mischievously, "You're probably loving having a little free time here, eh? I know you can't stand the kid."

I couldn't stop the frown that took over my face, "I- I hope they find him, actually." I mumbled.

With a sigh Bobby nodded, "Yeah me too. That's why I'm not gonna replace him just yet. You think you can handle working alone for a while? No more than a week or two."

In all honestly I basically worked alone when Randy was my partner. He was little to no help ever.

"I'll manage."

Bobby grinned, showing off his slightly crooked teeth that surprisingly added to his charming appearance, "I know you will. You're my best Ainsley."

He shot me a cheeky wink before heading back into his office as the bell rang and customer came in.

Bobby wasn't what you'd probably picture a single man owning an ice cream shop to look like. He was only in his mid forties, but he barley looked it. A little salt and pepper around his temples, but other than that he was in amazing shape. In fact, he was really attractive. All the divorcee moms in town stopped in a lot just to get a glimpse of him. It didn't help that he was really nice and charming as well.

To my relief the day wasn't too busy. I was able to keep up with the orders fairly easily, with the exception of a few busy rushes here and there, but I was grateful for those too as they stopped my mind from wondering and my hands from shaking.

A little before twelve my decent morning took a nose dive at the sound of a dangerously familiar voice that made me freeze.

"Hey there, Sugar."

Slowly I turned around and even though I expected it, actually seeing him standing there knocked the air from me.

I glanced towards Bobby's office door that was wide open. I couldn't see in, but he'd hear me if I screamed for help. Would Bobby be able to take Bomber? Bomber was taller for sure, but I think Bobby was bulkier. I know he spent all his free time at the gym whenever he wasn't here working. In a clean fight I'd be willing to bet Bobby would win, but if Bomber was armed he didn't stand a chance.

"Don't do anything moronic, please. I'm actually in a pretty good mood."

I wanted to scoff as my eyes shot back towards his blue inky gaze. He always seemed to be in a damn good mood. Whether he was murdering someone and kidnapping me or taking a stroll through the park, he'd still be smiling. The only thing that seemed to upset him was talking about his mother. Which at the risk of my windpipe, I'd be sure never to bring up again.

"What are you doing here?" I asked trying to hide the tremor in my voice. I hadn't seen or heard from him since he dropped me off at my car Tuesday morning.

I knew they'd be back for me eventually, but I didn't think it would be so fast. I guess my brief reprieve was over.

Did his appearance have anything to do with my conversation with the police yesterday? Did he know? Did he think betrayed them?

I didn't. And I'd go down swinging if he tried to kill for something I didn't do. Maybe I could get a good knee to the groin before he put a bullet through my head. At least then I'd have accomplished something in life.

"I came her for a little snack, obviously." He said as he looked away from me and pretended to peruse the freezer and ice cream flavors we had, "What would you recommend?"

I hated him. I hated him with every fiber of my being. How could he stand there and act like everything was fine and he couldn't end my life any second.

I watched him wearily as he continued to look through the glass case with his hands folded behind his back, "I- I don't have anything for you. I haven't even had the chance to speak to him yet."

At that he glanced up at me, his face abnormally serious, "I don't know what you're talking about. Do you have anything vegan?"

I couldn't stop as my eyebrows raised, "You're a vegan?"

"That surprise you, sugar?" He seemed greatly pleased with himself as he straightened up and moved his hands to the front pockets of his jeans.

In all honesty yes, it did surprise me. I associated vegans with peace and a cruelty free lifestyle. Not a gang leader who carried a knife in his pocket.

"We have sorbet." Was all I said instead.

"Mmm," he hummed "What flavor is your favorite?"

"What do you really want, Bomber?" I asked my growing anxiety bringing unwise fire out of me. I didn't want to play his games anymore.

He leaned his forearms on the counter and I fought the urge to take a step back. Instead I raised my chin up in false bravado, his eyes sparkled in response.

Why did he have to be so beautiful and deadly at the same time?

"Why are you so tense, sweetheart? Did you do something naughty?"

My stomach churned as I thought of what I had told Lindsey and my visit from Officer Topper.

"You're in a gang!" I hissed through clenched teeth as I leaned over the counter to get in close to his face. I didn't want anyone to overhear us, "That's why I'm fucking tense, you-" fucking psycho. I cut myself off before I could finish and possibly get myself stabbed.

He only grinned brightly at me as though he was excited by what I was going to say.

"I wouldn't say that we're a gang. We're more of an organized group of hit men who evade taxes."

"Exactly. You're in a gang."

"Fine. We're like a gang. It doesn't matter, either way I wouldn't hesitate to kill you if you don't keep your mouth shut. Have you? Kept your mouth shut, Ainsley?"

Oh god. He knew he did know. I was toast.

But then if he really knew what was he waiting for? He could be bluffing, testing me.

Thankfully though, with the last word the bell a over the door rang and a couple customers entered.

The air felt heavy and I could feel my pulse in my throat. I cleared it and leaned back. My hands were shaking as I picked up the familiar cold metal of the scoop.

Saved by the bell.

"What flavor would you like, Sir." I asked as calmly as I could, glancing at the new people in the shop. He raised an eyebrow and grinned his cocky smile that I'd become unwelcomely accustomed to since that night. Shockingly he actually ordered.

"I'll have a small raspberry sorbet on a sugar cone. Please." Now it was his turn to lean in and I could feel the hot terror coil in my belly. Was terror hot and heavy? I didn't remember it feeling that way before.

"But that ice cream isn't the only thing I'd like to be licking, sugar."

"I can't talk right now." I said through clenched teeth again as he shot me a wink.

"You'll make time for me. Remember," he pointed to himself "good cop. You don't want me to call my brother and inform him our informant, is being difficult do you?"

He liked to threaten me. That had become blatantly clear and he liked to do it while... flirting with me?

I sighed in defeat.

"I get a half hour for lunch. Meet me at one o'clock across the street."

He glanced out the glass store front at Isa's Cafe across the street.

"How would your boss feel knowing you're bringing your business to his competitor?"

"He wouldn't shoot me. That's for sure."

"Sugar, I'm hurt you think so little of me. I wouldn't shoot you. I like to get my hands dirty, surely you remember the first time we met?"

I wouldn't ever forget him holding a knife to my neck. My silence clearly told him that. Suddenly he did something unexpected, he sighed.

"Look, Ainsley, I'm not here to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you. I'll see you at one."

A red headed woman in a pair of mom jeans and big black shades on her face tapped Bomber on the shoulder, "Excuse me, are you almost done? The rest of us are waiting."

I bit my lip to suppress the smile that threatened to show itself. The idea that your run of the mill soccer mom was looking up her nose at a big bad gang leader was a tiny bit amusing.

I turned away and began to make his order while they talked.

"Sorry Ma'am. She just wants me so bad I couldn't get away. Don't let her flirt you into the getting the large sundae too alright?" I pictured him giving his charming, disarming smile. The one I hated because it was so handsome that it distracted anyone receiving it from the darkness he hid within him.

I rolled my eyes as the older woman clearly swooned, "That's alright, Mr...?"

I paused, waiting to see what name he would give her. I doubted Bomber would go over very well, no matter how handsome she thought he was.

"Jones." He supplied.

Jones? It wasn't what I expected. It was so normal of a last name. It didn't fit with his persona.

Before she could answer I spun around and shoved the cone in his face, "Thank you, Mr. Jones. That'll be $3."

He smiled at me and laid a ten on the counter, "Thank you for your service, darling." he purred and with that he turned and strolled our of the shop. Everyone watched his retreating figure as his tongue darted out to lick his desert.

After Bomber left the afternoon rush kicked in. By the time my lunch break rolled around I'd taken orders for close to 50 ice creams and imagined at least seven different ways Bomber was likely to murder me.

I didn't buy his promise not to hurt me. I'd be stupid to trust him to offer my a piece of gum without it being one of the shock tricks from third grade. No the truth was, I couldn't trust anyone but myself right now. Except maybe Lindsey.

Even that I was beginning to regret as I walked towards the man who held my life in his hands. I couldn't shake the idea that he knew I told Lindsey. Did he know I talked to the police?

As I walked into Isa's I scanned the room for him. I almost missed him tucked into the corner at the back of the cafe. Any hope I had that he might not show up vanished. I looked away before he noticed me and headed for the counter to order.

The girl at the register knew me well since I came here almost everyday for my lunch break, "Hey Becca, I'll have the usual."

"For sure," she smiled, "One ice latte and watermelon, feta salad coming up."

I thanked her and dropped a ten dollar bill in the tip jar next to her. She never had me pay for my lunch break, and I never had her pay for her ice cream on hers. We just tipped each other really well.

I waited for my latte only to stay away from Bomber as long as I could before slowly and reluctantly walking towards him.

He had his back to the rest of the shop so I had to go past him to get to my chair and sit against the wall.

He looked up from his phone as I sat and smiled at me.

"You're late, for a minute there I thought you'd stood me up." He teased as he pressed a hand to his heart.

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah well, we got busy after you left."

He didn't respond as Becca approached and placed my salad in front of me. She eyed Bomber from behind theatrically and winked as she walked away giving me a not so discrete thumbs up.

I ignored her as I picked up my fork, "You're not eating?" I asked and he leaned back in his chair casually.

"I don't eat in front of people."

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused, "Why not? You ate the cone I gave you earlier on your way out."

"You watch me walk away, sugar?"

I felt my face scorch red in embarrassment as he wiggled his eyebrows, I scowled at him, "You wish." I shot back somewhat pathetically as I looked down and shoved a forkful of watermelon and kale into my mouth while he laughed lightly.

"How's your head?" He asked and I looked up at him broadly through my lashes.

"Fine."

"And your parents?" He asked casually.

That made me snap my head back up at him.

"I swear I didn't tell them anything."

"I know you didn't, sugar." He replied somewhat reassuringly, "I know you didn't. Because unlike Lethal, I think you're smart. He thinks you're gonna try and run the second you get the chance, but not me. I spent hours with you, I've been on the receiving end of your bite. I know you've got guts. You're no coward."

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know you care about your family."

"Wow. You're a regular Sherlock Holmes. What was it that gave it away?"

He threw his head back and laughed and it knocked the defensiveness right out of me. Every time I thought I knew what he was gonna do he surprised me.

"There it is, that bite I was talking about."

"So I care about my family. So what? Anyone would do what I'm doing if their parents's-" I caught myself from raising my voice too loud and glanced around, "if lives were at stake." I finished with a soft whisper.

I sniffed and rolled my eyes upwards for a moment to fight back the tears the pushed against my waterline.

"You're wrong." His voice was surprisingly soft but firm, "Most people don't give a shit about anyone except themselves. You'd be surprised how many people would sell their mother, cousin, or brother for a lot less than their life."

"What are you saying?" I asked. This conversation wasn't going the way I expected it to.

"I'm saying I know you talked to the police. Don't look so petrified, I also know you didn't say anything to them. I trust you. Now, will you please trust me?"

"No." I replied without hesitating.

"Good girl." He grinned, "Now down to business. How's our boy Collin?"

"Haven't spoke to him yet."

"Why not." He frowned, his brow furrowing slightly as he grew serious.

"I- I don't know him. I have no way to contact him."

"So what's your plan?"

I paused. My plan? I didn't really have a plan, I'd been so caught up in everything else I hadn't thought about forming a plan.

"To wait, I guess." I replied hesitantly.

"Wait? That's your genius fucking plan? God, now who's Sherlock? You've got to give me something better than that Ainsley. Something to tell me you're holding up your end of the deal."

"Look. I can't just show up at his house, okay? That would look suspicious. I mean you want me to make friends with him, right? Not come across as a freaking stalker." I studied him and he didn't say anything, "Exactly. So I have to wait."

"We're not very patient people."

"Yeah I think I got that." I mumbled sarcastically, more to myself but I think he heard me anyway.

"Alright, fine. Say you wait. But for how long? I need some kind of idea as to when I'm gonna get what I want."

I chewed on my lip as he held eye contact with me, not backing down. Challenging me.

"Okay look. This is a small town. It's only a matter of time before Collin comes to me."

"What do you mean?" He asked and I rolled my eyes again.

"I mean," I bit out, "that sooner or later Collin will come into the parlor and I'll be able to talk to him."

Bomber was silent as he seemed to be absorbing what I said. My so called plan if you will. Despite my seemingly confident demeanor, I was shaking on the inside, hoping he'd agree to it.

"Okay. We'll do it your way. But if I don't see results soon we'll do it my way. Are we clear?"

I didn't know what his way was, but I didn't think I wanted to find out. Even if he did claim to be the good cop.

I nodded at him. That seemed to be that because he dropped the subject and reached into his jacket pocket.

I froze, even if it was unlikely he would whip out a weapon in a crowded cafe.

"Here." He slid a box across the table.

"What's this?" I asked as I eyed the black and blue cardboard box.

"It's a burner phone. It's what you're gonna use to contact me or Vinny and vice-versa. I've already put our numbers in it. Keep us updated on everything. If I need to contact you, I'll also text this number."

A burner phone. This was legit spy shit.

Slowly I reached across the table and took it.

"Now, this is strictly for business, sugar." He said, a warning edge to his voice, "no sexting me."

I was gonna fucking slap him.

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A/N- Updating again so soon?! That's not like me at all! Or is it 😏

With "Barbed Boys" reaching 500 reads, you guys deserve it!

I think this is my favorite chapter so far. We're really diving into the characters now, learning little quirks about them and such.

I won't lie to you all, I get the greatest kick out of writing scenes with Bomber in them!