I grabbed the trap and hurried to Terry’s door. Taking in a deep breath for bravery, I reached in and lifted out the mouse by his tail, then quickly slid him through the mail chute, repressing a shudder. I didn’t mind them, but I didn’t like to touch them either.
“Run, little guy. Wreak havoc.”
I addressed the door sarcastically, “Thanks for being such a great human, asshole.”
Then, I grabbed my suitcase and knapsack, hurrying down the steps holding up the suitcase, the weight of it making me clumsy and slow. But I made it down the steps, and I was out the door and into the dim light. I set down the suitcase, pulling it behind me, and began to run. I went as fast as I could until I turned the corner, pausing to catch my breath. I peeked behind me, but there was no one around. I took a moment to collect myself, then I hurried down the street, determined to get as far away as possible, as quickly as I could.
I wouldn’t relax until I was out of this city.
An hour later, I was at the bus station, ticket in hand. I sat in the corner, watching the busy crowds, willing time to go faster. I had locked my apartment door and left things the way they looked on Wednesday. The bread on the counter, a scarf I rarely used draped over the chair, the bedding still there. If the asshole went in again, he would simply think I was out. I doubted he would be going into my closet. He had no reason to suspect I was gone and zero idea I was at the bus station. Still, I couldn’t relax. I tapped out an uneven rhythm with my toes, sipped a cup of coffee, and used my laptop to check the news. I had sent Cycleman a message confirming Saturday again, and his reply had been short but affirmative. I had also asked him his name, and his reply was one word.
Maxx
I was glad he had never confirmed I was a guy, but I would deal with that tomorrow. I was glad to have confirmation he wasn’t backing out. Part of me whispered I was being stupid doing this. Jumping from the proverbial frying pan into the fire—but at this point, I felt I had nothing to lose. I couldn’t stay, so leaving was my only option. If he was an asshole, I would find something else.
Finally, my bus was announced, my suitcase stowed underneath, and we were on our way. When the door closed and we began to move, I felt a long tremor of relief flood me, and I had to cover my eyes with my hand as a wave of emotion hit me.
“Okay there, dear?” the elderly woman sitting beside me asked. With her gray hair and twinkling blue eyes, she looked like a picture postcard for a grandmother.
I wiped my eyes. “Left a bad situation,” I murmured.
“Oh. Well, best out, then.” She agreed. She reached into her bag, pulling out a sack of apples. She chose one, then offered me the bag. Unable to resist, I accepted one and bit into the crisp, sweet flesh.
Monica, it turned out, was going to a town just before Lomand. She spent the first hour of the trip telling me about the area and all her grandkids. It was a good distraction, and I appreciated it. She gave me her number, insisted on taking mine, and told me to come and visit, then advised me if my new job didn’t work out to come to her and she would make sure I was looked after. I sputtered out my thanks, but she waved me off.
“You remind me of my Julie. She’s a ginger, too. Takes after my own father with that coloring and all those freckles. I’d like to think if she were in trouble, someone would help her. Just passing it on.”
She hugged me before she got off the bus. “I’ll be checking on you, child.”
“I look forward to it.”
When we arrived in Lomand, the bus driver told me he was doing the same route the next day and instructed me to be at the same corner tomorrow and he’d take me on to Littleburn. I thanked him, marveling at the kindness I’d experienced so far today. It made me feel better than I had in a long time.
I found a small motel I’d seen online the night before. The rooms were cheap and the place was deserted, so they let me in right away. I shut the door, sank onto the bed, and was asleep in five minutes, exhausted from the past few days of stress.
I woke up confused, hungry, and thirsty, shocked to see I had slept for almost six hours. I grabbed my stuff and had a shower, then changed into fresh clothes. I brushed out my hair, feeling the positive effects of the long nap and the easing of the stress being in that apartment had caused me. I felt more like myself, not a scared girl. Briefly, I wondered if Terry had realized yet I was gone or was lying in wait for me.
Satisfied, I headed out, stopping at the office to ask about a place to eat. The woman pointed to the left, telling me there was a restaurant and bar about two blocks down. I walked that way, stopping to peek into a few windows. There were some nice little shops in town, and once I had some money, I would come back and look around.
I found the restaurant, the neon sign, Zeke’s Bar and Grill, hanging over the sidewalk, the arrow pointing to the door. I hesitated before entering. I hated going into bars or restaurants on my own, but I was starving and needed to eat. Summoning my courage, I opened the door and stepped inside. The place was bustling, and the smell of the grill hit me, the air heavy with the scent of meat cooking. My mouth watered, and I looked around for a place to sit. The tables were all occupied, but I spotted an empty stool at the end of the bar and headed that way. A woman was busy wiping down the counter, and I plucked a small menu from the holder in front of me. When she came over, offering me a friendly greeting, I ordered a cheeseburger and fries, and a glass of red wine, deciding I could treat myself tonight. I also asked for a glass of water, and I sipped the icy cold liquid as I looked around the place. It was obviously a gathering place for locals, the people in the crowd greeting one another, conversations happening between tables. The walls were thick planks of wood, scarred and worn, with a lot of posters and farm implements hung on them. The floor was buffed to a high gloss, but you could see the years of wear. Simple tables, sturdy chairs, and a well-stocked bar spoke of a place you could sit, have a meal, a drink, and relax. I noticed a few looks I was getting, but they didn’t make me uncomfortable. I was a new face in a sea of familiarity. I met a couple of gazes, then took out my phone and started a game of FreeCell. My dad had got me addicted to it years ago, and I still loved playing it. It would keep me busy until dinner came. I was grateful at that moment that my cell phone number had never been listed on the lease. At least Terry had no way of getting ahold of me. I was safe.
The hum of the bar and the music playing was a great background as I ate my dinner and sipped my wine. I wasn’t in a hurry and took my time. People around me came and went, dinner morphing into drinks and relaxation, the music becoming louder as time went on. I stayed in the corner, watching and enjoying the atmosphere. I chatted with the woman tending bar who introduced herself as Vanessa. I told her my name, but it seemed all she caught was Lynn, and I let it go. She assured me this last seat was rarely taken and I could stay as long as I wanted. I ordered another glass of wine and slipped off the stool to go use the washroom. Vanessa assured me she would keep my drink behind the bar until I returned. Rounding the bar, I collided with what felt like a wall, but as I lifted my hands to steady myself, I realized what I was touching was a taut, firm chest. I raised my eyes, meeting the amused gaze of an incredibly fine specimen of a man. Tall, broad, with eyes so dark they were almost black, he looked startled, then frowned and stepped back. “Sorry,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
I shook my head. “My bad,” I managed to utter before I hurried to the washroom, suddenly feeling overheated. I glanced over my shoulder, our eyes meeting again. He was massive, towering over the crowd, easy to spot. He was dressed in a black T-shirt that hugged his torso and showed off his arms, and his gaze was intense. His jeans hugged his thick thighs, and his large feet were encased in black shitkickers. I loved a man who wore heavy boots. It suggested strength. Durability.
I fanned myself as I closed the door behind me. “Wow,” I muttered. He certainly stood out in a crowd. You couldn’t help but look at him. I barely came up to his chest, and I was average height. H
e was at least six foot five.
I finished, washed my hands, fluffed my hair, and went back to the bar, sliding up onto my stool. I took a sip of wine and lifted my gaze, my eyes instantly falling on the stranger now sitting at the other end of the bar. Seated, he seemed even bigger. He called over to Vanessa, who waved and told him to keep his shirt on, referring to him as Reynolds. It was an odd name, but it suited him. As she brought him a large glass of beer, the foam dripping over the edge, and stood talking to him, I took the chance to study him. He was in his late thirties, I judged, his dark hair short on the sides, longer on top, shot with silver. His tightly trimmed beard had the same silver in it, but more of it. He was rugged, rough, and extremely sexy—masculine. There was something about him that suggested controlled power. It was in the way he moved, the tilt of his head. His rigid posture as he sat at the bar. The stern expression on his face. The way his gaze swept the room. I watched, fascinated, as he wrapped his huge hand around the glass and lifted it to his full lips, taking a long sip. Idly, I wondered what his touch would be like. Rough and demanding? Soft and teasing? Both? I swallowed heavily at the thought of him touching me. I wondered how it would feel to have his full mouth brush against my skin. How those hands would feel wrapped around my hips as he rocked into me. I gripped my thigh at the tremor of pure lust that ran through me with the mere thought, shocked at the intense sensation simply staring at this man caused me. I blinked and refocused my gaze.
That was when I realized he was now staring back at me—watching him. I didn’t think it was possible, but his frown deepened, his eyebrows pulling down in a glare. Flushing, I grabbed my phone and opened a book on my Kindle app, embarrassed at being caught.
MAXX
I smirked into my beer when, across the bar, I met the frank gaze of the pretty girl I had bumped into a few moments ago. She dropped her eyes fast, but not before I saw the flare of heat, directed at me. I glared at her, wondering why she’d be checking me out. I was by far the oldest guy in the place. She picked up her phone, giving me the opportunity to look back at her. She was unusual and striking. Deep copper hair fell in long waves down her back. I recalled the unusual color of her eyes—a soft green, muted and gentle. They had been startled when she’d walked into me, lifting in apology. The sight of her pretty face, a liberal dusting of freckles scattered over her cheeks and a faint blush diffusing her skin, caught me off guard. The warmth of her hands resting on my chest before she snatched them away felt odd, but good. She was unexpected.
Sitting in the corner, trying not to look my way, she was sexy and sweet. A combination I usually ignored. But something about her called to me.
“Who’s the ginger?” I asked Vanessa as she wiped the bar beside me.
“Name’s Lynn. Just passing through.”
“Ah,” I muttered.
“Seems nice. Likes red wine. Maybe if you smiled at her instead of scowling, you’d have a shot.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not interested, just a question. I’ll have a burger when you have a moment. Make it a double. Onion rings on the side.”
She shrugged and moved away.
I sipped my beer, enjoying the cold beverage. I’d had to come into town to get a part I required to finish a job. I was swamped, but luckily, Wally had stayed open late so I could grab it. I would finish the car in the morning, then pick up Charly and get him settled. I had been so busy, I hadn’t even had time to get in touch with the kid. He’d confirmed he was arriving tomorrow and asked me my name. I meant to write him back and give him more information about the place, but time had gotten away from me. I would explain everything to him tomorrow.
Since I was here, I’d popped in for a beer and a burger. My gaze roamed back to the redhead in the corner. She was unexpected eye candy, and I couldn’t seem to stop staring.
My burger arrived, and I ate it with gusto. Zeke’s Bar and Grill was solid for a good meal. Simple, but tasty. I ordered another beer, relaxing on the padded stool and sipping the icy cold liquid. A few people dropped by to say hi, but otherwise, I enjoyed the sounds around me, keeping to myself. My gaze kept wandering over to the girl. She appeared to be engrossed in something on her phone, occasionally picking up her wine for a sip. Our eyes met across the bar a few times, and once she offered me a small smile before dipping her head back down, no doubt, as Vanessa stated, put off by my scowl.
I had to admit, she was intriguing. Oddly sensual with her coloring, poise, and demeanor. She didn’t draw attention to herself, but it happened, regardless. She stood out from the locals.
Internally, I rolled my eyes. Intriguing or not, I wasn’t looking. I had learned my lesson the hard way, and I was still recovering from the betrayal I had suffered months ago. I had to admit, though, if I were looking, the pretty girl across the bar was as opposite from Shannon as you could get. That was a huge plus in my book.
But I wasn’t looking. Or interested.
Until movement caught my eye, and I glanced up to see the pretty girl looking uncomfortable. I cursed low in my throat when I saw the reason. Standing beside her, far too close, was Wes Donner. He was one of the Donner brothers, a bane to many in town. Rich, entitled, and far too full of himself, he thought he was god’s gift to women. Both brothers did. The younger one, Chase, had been a good kid at one time, but his brother’s influence changed that. The truth was, they were rude, obnoxious, and immature. I’d dealt with them many times and had zero patience for either of them.
Especially now, as I watched the girl shake her head and politely turn her face as she lifted up her phone again.
The asshole had the gumption to loom over her, invade her personal space, and grab at her phone. I tried not to snicker as she snatched it back, jabbed her finger into his chest and mouthed off to him.
He didn’t get the message, grasping her wrist, and pushing closer.
She tried to yank her hand back, but he refused to let go. I heard her voice over the din of the bar.
“Unless you want to speak in a higher octave, asshole, back off.”
Those words only seemed to entice him, and he cornered her. The girl grimaced and moved her arm, and suddenly, Wes was bent over the bar, his face twisted in pain.
Without a thought, I was out of my seat and by her side of the bar in a flash. Once close, I could see she had twisted his little finger, holding it at an odd angle. He was acting like a child, almost howling in pain.
“I believe the lady said no.”
Wes grimaced but refused to back down. “I’m not talking to you, Reynolds.”
“Neither, it seems, is the lady. You gonna leave her alone if I tell her to let you go?”
He huffed and cursed. “Fine.”
I turned to the girl. “I think he’s done.”
“Gosh dang right, he is,” she grumbled. “This keeps happening. Holy moly, I’m sick of men like this idiot.”
I held back my amusement. “Let him go, Red.”
She released him, and he dropped to the bar with a groan before straightening up.
“You bitch,” he muttered.
I grabbed his arm, yanking him close. “What did you just say?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.” I glared at him. “It’s time you were leaving, Wes.”
“Why don’t you fuck off and mind your own business, Reynolds? I was just talking.”
I turned my head, meeting the wide gaze of the girl. “You interested in hearing him talk?”
“Unless it’s an apology before he leaves, no.”
I turned back to him with a smirk. I liked her sass. “You have your answer.” I leaned forward, dropping my voice. “Leave now, while you can still walk.”
He cursed and spun on his heel, shoving through the crowd. My eyes followed his path until he stormed out of the door, slamming it behind him.
I turned and smiled at the girl. “Sorry about that. A few idiots around here have no manners. You should be fine now.”
I began to move aw
ay, and her hand shot out, landing on my arm. “Wait.”
I glanced down where her fingers lingered on my skin. Pale against the tanned color of my forearm. Surprisingly delicate, given the punishment they’d just inflicted on Wes. I was taken aback at her touching me since most people steered clear of doing so.
“Thank you.”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“Can I—” She cleared her throat. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Not needed.”
“Please.”
I couldn’t say no to her pleading eyes, and frankly, I really didn’t want to. She had yet to remove her hand from my arm, and I had to admit, I liked how it felt when she touched me. I sat beside her, and Vanessa came over, sliding a beer my way.
“On the house. Thanks for taking out the garbage.”
I picked up my glass. “He took himself out.”
Vanessa placed a glass of wine in front of the girl. “On the house for you too. I like your style.”
The girl picked up her wine with a shaking hand. “That’s the second time in as many days I’ve had to rely on my self-defense class. I’ve never used it until now…” She trailed off.
I lifted my glass in a toast. “Always a first time.”
She was quiet, seemingly in thought.
I sensed a story there. I assumed she’d been hassled already this week, but I stayed quiet.
She turned to me, holding out her hand. “Thank you, Reynolds, for coming over. I appreciate it.”
I looked at her hand, then had to tease her. “Is that safe?”
She laughed, the sound light. “Yes.”
I shook her hand. “You’re welcome.” Then I furrowed my brow. “I think Vanessa said your name was Lynn?”
She shrugged and muttered something about it being close enough. Then she grinned, making two deep dimples in her face appear. They were right by the corners of her full lips, making her expression mischievous. “You asked her my name?”
Revved to the Maxx Page 4
