The Iron Reapers
1430 Words
TESSA
The metal of the bike was like ice against the back of my waist. He was standing closer than he should have, his hands resting on the seat of the bike on my either side.
Up close, without the shield of his leather jacket, he was like a map of lean muscles. I didn't look at his body. I faced his gaze.
The smell of grease, sweat, and that peppermint wafted around me. It was officially his scent. I had smelled it so many times, I‘d recognize it from miles away.
"What are you doing?" I whispered. I was hoping for my voice to be a sharp blade, but instead, it sounded like a frayed thread.
His chest barely touched mine with each breath he took. A drop of sweat descended from his forehead and followed the sharp line of his jaw. "You're still an angry bird, Tessa. It's like lighting a match in a windstorm."
I never had anger issues but Kyle Maxwell pulled out the savage side of mine which I thought I had lost after serving in prison.
"Well, I have every right to be angry, " I replied, making an effort to lean further away from the bike, even though there was no escape. "Take my warning seriously. I'll break the headlights of your precious bike."
A slow, scandalous smile spread over his face. "Just like you broke my watch in school?"
"You stole my personal diary and read it out loud in front of the whole class, remember?”
"I only wanted to know the thoughts of that scary head of yours." He muttered softly, the heat of skin touching mine.
As he tilted his head, his gaze dropped to the deep scar beneath my chin. The mark prison had carved into me after a fight over a scrap of bread. His teasing smirk vanished, and he touched the scar, moving his thumb over it, soft and gentle. “Where did you get this?”
Flustered, I instantly pushed his hand down. "Kyle, it's none of your business. Focus on the topic, will you?"
For a moment, his blue eyes showed a glimmer, a look I had never witnessed in our entire school life. He didn't argue. Instead, he slowly stepped back, returning my breathing.
Without a word, he slid the wrench into the back pocket of his jeans and headed out of the garage. I quickly followed his steps.
He approached the truck driver and whispered something to his ear. Suddenly, the driver started unloading the truck, putting the tightly packed boxes of espresso beans and pastry flour out onto the shoulder of the road. "Wait…" I ran over to him. "Have you gone insane!?
"He ordered me to leave the boxes here." The driver said, pointing a finger at Kyle.
“Stop it, Kyle!”
He wouldn't listen.
I took a few steps towards him, yet two of the bikers, the blond one and the one with an eagle tattoo on his arm, blocked the path like twin towers of leather and muscle.
"Relax, Tessa," said the blond one, though he seemed rather entertained. “Kyle hardly ever does anything without a reason," he added.
I dug my fingers into the skin of my palm and stormed off to my café. I slammed the door so hard the glass rattled in the frame. "Maya!"
The head in the kitchen popped out, flour dusting her nose. "W-What's wrong?”
"The troublemaker upstairs! They're throwing my delivery out onto the street. Can anybody do something? Is there a local authority? A council? Somebody who can stop them?" I kept pacing back and forth on the checkered floor. "And don't call the police. I don't want the cops crawling all over my property."
With my past, I didn't want to be involved with the cops for any reason.
Maya wiped her face. "We might go and see Mr. Miller, the Town Head. But to be frank, the Iron Reapers don't really bully anyone. Could it be a misunderstanding?”
“Iron Reapers? That's their name?”
She nodded. “They're super cool…Especially Kyle Maxwell. He's a heartthrob. Have you ever seen his races? Damn! No one can beat him.”
"Maya, take me to the Town Head.” I interrupted her fangirling moment.
We reached the town head’s office. It was crowded, people standing in line for different reasons. On top of that, Mr. Miller was a slow person. Finally, after almost an hour, I managed to get him out of the office.
Surprisingly, the dark, tattooed bikes were parked outside my café. The bike with a skull sticker, I recognised it right away. Kyle Maxwell’s precious darling.
I realized my parcels hadn't been buried in the mud like I feared. Instead, the bikers were in unison, carrying the boxes inside.
“Tessa, it seems your complaint was irrelevant,” Mr. Millar sighed. “We don't engage with the Iron Reapers. Still, I came here on your request. I've got work to do. Please do not waste my time.”
“Mr. Miller…” He didn't even let me finish. He simply walked away.
Inhaling a breath, I stepped inside. Kyle stood against the counter, dressed in black clothes. He sensed my presence, his eyes looked up, and met mine. "Hey, glasses," his lips grinned, "All boxes accounted for. No damage.”
“You should've told me earlier. I wouldn't have to embarrass myself in front of Mr. Millar.”
He once again crossed the line, coming too close, his thumb playing with a silver lighter. "Someone was too heated, not ready to hear sides, scanning for a brawl instead of seeing how I fix things.”
My gaze landed on his lighter for a quick second. *So he smokes now?*
I didn't say anything. They were doing the job.
His eyes snapped down to the counter, where neon-pink flyers piled up. "Grand opening tonight, free coffee and pastries?" His stare sharpened, "no one told us.”
“Kyle, she really hates you!” The one with the eagle tattoo on his arm shouted.
“Shut up, Raven…” He smirked.
Before I could explain the 'Get Out' sign, Maya burst through. She tossed over a bundle of flyers, face flushing deep red. "We're hosting everyone, the whole town's coming.”
Kyle's eyes stayed right into mine. "We'll definitely come. Besides, I'm curious if your coffee making skills are as good as your sarcastic remarks." Teasing me again, he went upstairs with his crew. That same charming, yet devilish smirk on his lips.
In the evening, the Moonlight Café had changed completely. The “free sign” had attracted a lot of customers.
"Tessa, it's like Victor's right in front of me," a lady said, looking at her latte after a long sip and wiping a tear from her eye. "Victor's talent, you have that, too."
The feedback was nice. Every customer was praising the coffee and the pastries. Everything was finally going my way.
Then, the vibe changed.
The gang of bikers came downstairs, drawing everyone's attention. Kyle being the leader, sporting a leather jacket over a grey hoodie, his blue eyes scanning the room. The crew took the table in the back, right next to two men.
Just as he reclined on the chair, his gaze found my eyes. Maya rushed over to them to take their orders. They had a race waiting.
Wherever I moved, his intense gaze stalked me like a shadow I couldn’t escape. Even after Maya served him the coffee, he was taking a slow sip, his stare locked on mine over the rim of the cup, making my pulse stumble.
Suddenly, my phone started to buzz, flashing a supplier’s name. Inside was too noisy. I stepped outside, answering the call. "Yes, the shipment came...No, the beans are okay."
I was on the line for barely twenty seconds when I turned to the large, glass window, and my heart dropped to my stomach.
Kyle punched one of the two men from the table next to them. I cut the call and instantly barged inside. The guests were already on their feet, and the man who got punched was lying on the floor, while his friend was terrified.
I looked at Kyle's closed fist, blood dripping from his knuckles. Not his blood.
The man on the floor was holding his jaw, blood had trickled out at the corner of his mouth and spread on his white shirt.
Kyle's gaze met mine, dark and furious.
He ruined my opening.
- Writer
