The Queen's Flight (Emerging Queens) by Jamie K. Schmidt Read Free Book Online Page A

and stifled a yawn.
    “I know a steak house we can stop at. It’s not the Ritz Carlton, but it’s got huge portions. We’ll get a couple of pots of coffee and load up on grub.”
    “I’m in,” Viola said. She sighed. “I’m still feeling like I’m trapped in the Twilight Zone.”
    “That was an ugly scene with your mother.” Sergei had been chased out of his village by pitchfork-bearing peasants a few hundred years ago. So he felt for Viola. Her mother used words as weapons, though, and those wounds didn’t heal easily.
    “I call that a regular Tuesday night.”
    “Why were you living with her?” He’d rather hitchhike to some place warm and live on the beach.
    “Trying to build up my credit report and my savings.”
    “So some jackass rooked you out of your 401K?” Sergei’s vision tinged red.
    Viola replaced the gas cap and nodded at the Harley. “His was blue.”
    “Why did you buy him a bike?”
    “I was buying myself a dream. My husband had left me for a nurse—after I supported him through med school.”
    “Another prick.”
    “After the last bill was paid, he wished me a nice life. No hard feelings. He wanted to have fun after working all those hours. Take advantage of the good life. He was a good deal older than me, but I wasn’t expecting he’d hit his midlife crisis at thirty.” Viola shrugged, a glum look passing over her tired features.
    “I hope your lawyer hog-tied him and is going to garnish his wages.” Sergei knew a few lawyers that would have scented blood in the water and ripped her ex apart like the sharks they were.
    Viola shook her head. “Nope. I even gave him the house.”
    “For fuck’s sake, why?” Sergei had to lower his voice when a family in a minivan goggled at him like he was the devil incarnate.
    He was surprised to see her expression had brightened. “I hated that house. I wasn’t allowed to have a room for my workshop.”
    “You don’t seem the tool type.”
    “Not that kind of workshop. I had a small business designing knitting patterns and selling crafts before I married Mark. But we needed something to survive on while he got his diplomas. So I found a steady job. We decided that after he established his practice, I could quit work and go back to creating all day long. I should have realized that was never the long-term plan when the basement became a man cave and my spinning wheel didn’t fit.”
    “Well, now you can fly over his house and take a dump on his lawn.”
    Viola laughed, which surprised a smile out of him. He could get used to that sound. Against his better judgment, he was enchanted by her dimples. He wondered if she would moan if he kissed her. Taking a step forward, he realized she wasn’t even on the same page. Her eyes were far away and sad.
    “Tempting.” She sighed. “But I’d rather pretend he doesn’t exist. Let’s go to dinner. I’m starving.”
    It was another half hour on the road before he led her to the all-night diner that featured steaks the size of platters. It looked like every other roadside diner he’d ever been in. They slid into a booth that had seen better days. Colored, frayed duct tape covered the rips in the seat. The Formica table had initials carved into it. Viola stared out the bullet-proof glass window and yawned so widely, he heard her jaw crack. He was wondering how she managed to keep the bike upright. She looked like the walking dead.
    His phone buzzed as they were flipping through the menu.
    “Yeah?” Sergei said, motioning the waitress to pour them some coffee.
    “Where are you guys?” It was Reed.
    “We stopped for dinner.” He drank the cup down in one swallow and snagged the waitress for a refill before she left the table.
    “Don’t tell me where. We’re on an unsecured cell phone.” Reed’s tinny voice still had a weight of arrogance that put Sergei’s back up.
    “I’m not an idiot.”
    “Are you sure you weren’t followed?”
    “Yep,” Sergei said.