Burning Hot Rumors (Choices: Tarkio MC Book 2)

by Debra Kayn

  Kent picked Harvey up by the front of his shirt as if he weighed no more than a case of beer. "Go ahead and spread it around that anyone thinks they can treat Callie that way will get the same treatment."

  Callie held her breath. She'd never seen Kent lash out that way and lose his temper.

  He pushed Harvey toward the door. She leaned against the counter, peering after them. Harvey's mumblings followed him outside, and Kent threw the man in the snow.

  "Oh, my God." She stared at the fight in front of her.

  Harvey scrambled to his feet and hurried to his car. Her heart raced. Kent had never punched anyone before. Sure, he scuffled with Josh, but she'd never seen him have zero patience before.

  As far as Harvey mouthing off to her, other people had said much worse things to her, and around Kent.

  She hurried around the counter as Kent came back inside. Going to him, she picked up his hand. Caught between wanting to hug him and asking if he was alright, she rubbed his knuckles.

  Harvey never stood a chance. Kent's strength and size had laid him out with one punch. It was horrifying and amazing.

  She gulped. It was totally her fault that he hit someone.

  Her reputation made lots of men think they only had to ask for sex, and she'd drag them into the back room.

  She dragged her gaze up to Kent's face and looked into his eyes. He was the only man she wanted, and he was leaving.

  Kent had never pressured her the way the others had, and yet she could see in his eyes that he felt the same way about her as she felt about him.

  He was willing to fight everyone for her. She wasn't sure what to do with that reality. He shouldn't have to fight for her. She was right here.

  "Are you okay?" she asked.

  He squeezed her hand. "I'm good."

  She moistened her lips, wanting to tell him how much she appreciated him defending her. To let him know that somehow, through all the pain and confusion and numbness, she felt...he made her feel...things that she knew better than to let herself want.

  He deserved to go on with his life, to hit the open road.

  Her chest ached, and she looked away from those soulful blue eyes and blew out her breath. "I, um..."

  She stepped away from him, her hands curling into fists, trying to hold on to how his hands felt against her skin.

  "Callie?" He cleared his throat. "It's time for me to shut off the pump."

  She nodded. It was time.

  Kent was his own man. He'd already spent longer than he'd planned in Missoula because he'd granted a dying man his last wish. While her heart was breaking and she dreaded a life without Kent in it, she was strong enough to let him go. To be free.

  "I'll go ahead and send Reggie home," he said.

  "Yeah." Her heart pounded. "Okay."

  Remembering that she had one last thing to do, she leaned over and grabbed his last paycheck off the counter. Her eyes burned. She blinked rapidly and faced him.

  "Here you go." She held his payment out. "I gave you a little extra for the times you plowed and well, for helping around here and helping...me."

  "I would've done it for free, honey," he said softly.

  She nodded. There was no denying how he felt for her. He never hid that he cared. She only wished that their relationship could've been more. That he could've stayed and loved her.

  "That reminds me." He reached in his back pocket and removed an envelope. "I wanted to give you this."

  She fingered the thick packet. "What is it?"

  "Don't open it now." He stroked his beard. "It's for later."

  Later, when he'd left. He was really going. She couldn't pretend that he would stay another day.

  She inhaled deeply.

  It was now or never.

  She was losing him.

  Stepping closer, she raised up on her tiptoes and softly kissed him. His full lips pressed firmly against her mouth. Before she could change her mind and beg him to stay, she dropped back on her heels.

  "Be safe. Be happy," she whispered.

  "You, too, honey," he whispered back.

  He rocked back a step, staring in her eyes, and then he turned and strode out of the gas station. She stood watching him go through the routine of shutting off the pump, picking up the sign, sending Reggie home, and rolling the air hose.

  When he finished, he stood, looking around. Her throat closed. He never once looked back at her.

  After several minutes, he walked out of sight. Her pulse roared in her ear. She pivoted, knowing he walked around the building to the back.

  The roar of his motorcycle a soulful cry in her tender soul.

  She rushed to the front doors and caught sight of him coming around the building. He never stopped but rolled out onto the street. A man that was larger than anyone she'd ever known grew smaller and smaller the more distance he traveled.

  Her body grew heavier and heavier.

  Long after he rode out of sight, she flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED, locked the door, and shut off the lights.

  Not since her dad passed away had she ever felt so alone.

  She walked home, knowing there was no one to share dinner with or build a fire in the woodstove. Inside the trailer, she went straight to the La-Z-boy and covered up with a blanket. Tomorrow would be another day of living by herself, running the gas station, and pretending she had no feelings left to care what other people thought about her.

  Her gaze fell to the last thing Kent gave her, still clutched in her hand. She slid her finger under the sealed flap. A stack of cash filled the envelope.

  Spotting white paper, she pulled out a note.

  Callie –

  Your dad paid me to keep working at the gas station until you were strong enough to go on without him. You were always strong enough, honey.

  And, I would've stuck around for free.

  If you ever need anything, call Curley 555-3142, he'll be able to help you. Take care of yourself and know that you are special, honey. Nobody can take that away from you.

  Kent

  As if arms surrounded her in the chair, she curled into a ball and cried.

  Part Two

  Chapter 22

  Callie

  1986

  CALLIE STARED AT THE spot where her family members laid to rest. With the arrival of spring came new grass sprouts dotting the dry dirt covering her father's grave. It'd been almost a year since her dad had died.

  During that time, there were days she couldn't remember and some she couldn't forget.

  "What am I doing, Dad?" she whispered into the breeze.

  Over the last six months, she'd lost herself. One day turned into another.

  Everyone in Missoula had forgotten that she'd lost her dad and had gone back to making their snide remarks, looking at her out of the corner of their eyes, and whispering her name. Josh came in regularly to get gas and harass her. Reggie quietly worked at the pump and just as quietly walked home after work.

  Over time, she'd changed, and not for the better.

  The sad part was she could pinpoint the day that her life got darker. It wasn't when her dad passed away. He'd been sicker than she'd known, and looking back, she was glad he hadn't suffered. Deep down, she knew if there was a heaven, her dad was up there with her mom and baby brother—that brought her comfort. She would never have wanted her dad to linger in pain because he felt she wouldn't survive on her own.

  She was surviving.

  If surviving meant walking around numb with regrets weighing her down, then she was kicking life's butt.

  No, her life got darker when Kent left Missoula.

  She wished many times over the months that she could go back in time and do things differently. She should've told him how she felt about him. At the time, she couldn't tell the difference between being grateful and falling in love with him. He'd done so much for her; the lines had often blurred.

  Sometimes, her memories confused her. That maybe, in her grief, she mistook Kent's kindness to heart,
and perhaps the truth was that he found her sad and pathetic.

  No answers came from the grave. Not that she'd expected clarity to hit her by visiting the cemetery.

  She had no idea why she'd come here today, except she needed...again, she had no idea what she needed.

  The past winter ended up harsher than she'd remembered in the past and hung on longer than usual. Maybe her mood influenced mother nature. Nothing would surprise her anymore.

  She couldn't make herself feel any anticipation for the change of seasons. Spring was supposed to bring newness and hope, and all she felt was a level of loneliness she'd never felt before.

  Yet, in so many ways, her life had more meaning than it had a year ago. The Tarkio Motorcycle Club had reached out to her after Kent left. They helped out when Reggie was unable to handle the plowing, lift the big deliveries, and unfreeze the water pipes when they froze.

  One thing had led to another in her relationship with Tarkio MC, and she'd stepped out of her comfort zone and accepted Curley's offer to come to a party at the clubhouse the day after Christmas. To her surprise, she'd gone and had fun. The women who belonged to the bikers openly talked with her as if they hadn't heard the rumors floating around about her. Some of the men flirted with her.

  She attended the parties almost weekly now, and yet when she returned home, the euphoria she'd gained while around the bikers always left her feeling emptier.

  "I love you, dad, mom, baby brother," she whispered.

  She walked back to the truck dry-eyed. There was laundry to do at home before her work week started again tomorrow. As she climbed onto the seat, a biker rode toward the truck. Adrenaline spiked within her, and she squinted in the distance.

  As the biker came closer, she recognized Curley behind the handlebars and stopped herself from turning the key until she found out what he needed.

  Instead of stopping in front of the truck, he rode onto the grass and killed the engine beside her door.

  She rolled down the window and hung her elbows out. "Hi."

  "I've been looking all over for you." Curley's stern gaze never relaxed. "I have bad news."

  He got off his motorcycle and approached the truck. She studied him, trying to guess what he had to say. If someone was trying to say something untrue about her, she'd heard it all before.

  "I'm sorry, Callie." Curley's mouth tightened. "There's been a fire at the gas station."

  "A fire?" Her heart raced. She looked along the horizon, even though she was too far away from home to see anything. "Did someone call the fire department?"

  "They're there now. It happened about an hour ago."

  Her heart sunk. She'd gone to the post office, paid her water bill, and came to the cemetery. She hadn't realized how long she'd been away from home. "Was there a lot of damage?"

  His whiskered cheek flinched. "There's nothing left."

  "What?" She cupped her forehead, feeling sick. "How can that be? I was just there."

  "There's more." Curley inhaled deeply, glanced away before looking at her again. "Somehow, the explosion spread the fire to the trailer. The firemen were able to contain the fire from spreading behind the property but with it being a mobile home..."

  She closed her eyes. This couldn't be happening. It seemed like yesterday, she'd received the phone call from her dad that a fire had consumed the house, and he'd lost all his possessions. That time, the gas station had been saved.

  "Callie?"

  She shook her head, not wanting to open her eyes and face reality. This was a bad dream. What was she supposed to do without a home and the gas station? How was she supposed to make a living?

  All her clothes, her belongings, her dad's things she'd wanted to keep. All of it was gone.

  "I don't know what to do," she whispered. "Why is this happening to me?"

  "Let me drive you over to the clubhouse. You'll have time to think and get past the shock. Tarkio will help you. Whatever needs to be done, we'll be with you. But for now, there's nothing you can do. Once we have you safe, you can eat, drink, calm down, and decide where you'll go from here."

  "No. I need to go home and see for myself. There might be something I can save." She opened her eyes, the pain of reality sinking in. "I just can't...really? Everything is on fire?"

  "I can leave my motorcycle here and drive you."

  "No, no, I'm okay." She fumbled for the keys in the ignition and started the engine. "I'll drive and meet you over there."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I just need to wrap my head around this. A fire?" She studied him. "You're telling me the truth, right?"

  "I am."

  She nodded. A large part of her wanted Curley to be wrong. Maybe the fire wasn't as big as he claimed. Maybe the trailer was salvageable.

  Adrenaline pushed her forward. She needed to do something. Without a home, she'd be homeless. Without her dad around to help her, she had no idea what to do.

  Twenty minutes later, no less calm, she caught sight of smoke in the air, and all hope that Curley exaggerated the damage plummeted.

  The fire truck barricaded the block. She parked across the street and stared at the standing cement walls of the store. The roof was completely gone. Only a shell remained. The gas pump and cover...gone.

  Unable to see the trailer from her position, she got out of the truck and crossed the road. A fireman running by, turned his head and shouted for her to stay back.

  She changed direction and walked away, down the block, until she could view behind the store. A gasp ripped out of her and stole all her strength. She stared at the charred remains of the trailer. Flames still burned the debris.

  Just like that, the rest of her life was stolen from her.

  Chapter 23

  Kent

  KENT KICKED THE FRONT door of the apartment closed, dropped his bag to the floor, and rushed to answer the ringing phone.

  "Hello?" He stretched the cord as far as it would go and opened the fridge, grabbing a beer.

  "Hey, Kent. It's Curley."

  He trapped the receiver between his ear and shoulder and tore off the tab of the can. "Long time, no talk. How have you been?"

  "I'm pretty good." Curley paused. "You wanted me to call if Callie ran into trouble."

  He grabbed the receiver when it slipped, his attention on the call. "Is she okay?"

  "Yes and no. Physically, she's fine, but the gas station and her home burned down two days ago. She's staying at the clubhouse and stomping the sidewalk everywhere she can think to get a job, so she can rent an apartment. As you can guess with her reputation, she's not having any luck."

  He set the beer on the counter. The people in Missoula wouldn't give Callie the time of day, much less a job, believing all the rumors about her.

  "Was she there when the fire broke out? Are you sure she's okay?" he asked.

  "No, she wasn't home. It was her day off. When we heard about the fire at the clubhouse, I was able to hunt her down and break the news to her."

  "Fuck," he muttered, making plans in his head.

  "Tarkio will make sure she has a roof over her head. Hell, she could move into my house if it comes down to getting her out of the clubhouse." Tarkio cleared his throat. "She's hurting, Kent. Since the fire, she's jumped off the deep end."

  How well had Curley gotten to know Callie since he'd left? He'd asked his friend to watch out for her, nothing else. Curley knew how he felt about her.

  The last he'd heard, Callie even attended some of the parties at the clubhouse, and she was putting herself out to others more. Because of her progress moving on with her life, he took a job with the electrical company, stringing wire as an overhead electric lineman in Spokane to give her more time to find herself.

  "I'm coming there," he said, not thinking twice of what leaving Washington meant. "Where is she right now?"

  "She's here at the clubhouse. People are just beginning to arrive for the night."

  "How is she?"

  "Halfway to being drunk off
her ass," said Curley. "She's got a lot of pain to numb."

  Callie drinking? His head pounded. What happened since he'd left? It was Missoula, the whole city had a harsh winter. Callie's social life should be slower than a ninety-year-old widow with arthritis in both hips.

  "She's drunk?"

  "She's finding herself, Kent. Just like you wanted. She's been hanging around the clubhouse, even before the fire. The women like her. She's spreading her wings with the men. She's comfortable around Tarkio, where she's protected, and nobody is giving her shit. From what I've gathered, the members are trying to help her get her mind off her troubles."

  Agitated, he scratched the back of his head. Curley should've informed him of the changes.

  "I'm going to pack my bag. I'll be there in two-three hours," said Kent.

  "You're going to leave your job in Spokane?"

  "Damn straight." He hung up the phone and looked around the bare apartment.

  It was never his plan to stay here. He was giving Callie time to get over her dad's death and go on with her life before he returned to Missoula to see if what he felt for her was still there. If she was ready for a relationship.

  He thought the most he had to worry about during his absence was Josh harassing Callie. It was why he'd asked Curley to keep an eye on her.

  He grabbed his clothes off the top of the counter in the bathroom and shoved everything in the bag. Cleaning out the cabinet, he put the necessities in the bag, too. Before he left, he called his supervisor at work and gave him the news that he quit. Reason—a family emergency.

  He'd kept to himself, neither going out with his coworkers or giving them any history about himself. Staying in Spokane was never meant to be long term. He was only biding his time.

  Closing the door to the ground floor apartment, he'd left the key on the counter. There was no coming back, he was ready to ride. He'd been ready to go back to Callie since the day he sold his van to Razor and lit out of Missoula to let Callie heal on her own.

  For the first time in his life, he knew what direction he wanted to travel.