Dangerous

by Daniels, Suzannah

  Dedication:

  To my favorite motorcycle enthusiasts—

  My husband, who’s always shared the back of his bike with me,

  My son, who’s had a motorcycle since he was two, and

  My daughter, who’s made my heart skip a beat more than once while riding her dirt bike.

  Look twice.

  Save a life.

  Motorcycles are everywhere.

  Dangerous

  by

  Suzannah Daniels

  Copyright © 2013 by Suzannah Daniels

  Cover Art by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

  http://okaycreations.net/site/

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to any person, living or dead, events, businesses, or places are coincidental and not intended by the author.

  First Electronic Edition: March 2013

  Dangerous / by Suzannah Daniels

  www.SuzannahDaniels.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Other Books by Suzannah Daniels

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Stone

  Fear. At one time, it was an emotion that was unfamiliar to me. When I was young, I wasn’t afraid of monsters under my bed or gorillas in my closet. I wasn’t afraid of getting in trouble or of Santa marking me off his list or of visits to the dentist. As I grew, so did the list of things that I refused to be afraid of. I wasn’t afraid to sneak out of my bedroom in the middle of the night or to take my parents’ car for a joyride without their knowledge. I wasn’t afraid to steal a kiss from a girl or to mercilessly tease my brother when he didn’t have the courage to do the same. The truth is I had never truly known fear…until the accident.

  Thunder boomed in the distance, bringing me out of my reverie, forcing me to focus on the present. Ominous, gray clouds hung heavy over Quail Mountain, Tennessee, the mundane, little town I called home. I gazed at the sky, noting how much darker it was than normal for this time of day. I suspected it wouldn’t be long before huge, fat raindrops splattered the Earth and everything in between, including me, my bike, and the newly paved road that would lead me to work.

  I shoved my helmet on my head, fastened the strap, and swung my leg over my glossy black crotch rocket. I cranked the engine, revved it with a few, quick twists of the throttle, and popped the bike into gear, pulling it up into a wheelie as I barreled down my long driveway.

  This bike had been a present from my parents a few months ago for my eighteenth birthday. As far as material possessions went, it had been the only thing I had really wanted. Hell, who was I kidding? I didn’t want it. I needed it.

  My body shook as I let the front wheel hit the ground again and came to a quick stop at the end of the drive. The June air was stifling, so I opted to keep the shield of my helmet up, leaving my sunglasses to protect my eyes from airborne debris and insects. Once I determined no traffic was coming, I pulled into the street and torpedoed toward town, hugging the curves of the asphalt as I wound my way down the mountainside. I was reckless, and I knew it. Perhaps there was a huge part of me that wanted to taunt death.

  When I reached the bottom of the mountain fifteen minutes later, I pulled under the carport behind Quail Mountain Books, a medium-sized shop that sold books, movies, CDs, and video games.

  I took my helmet off, welcoming the stormy breeze on my sweat-dampened hair, and opened the metal door that led into the back entrance of the store. The door shut softly behind me as I laid my helmet down on the laminated countertop that ran around half the room. I was in the kitchen, which had been renovated about a year ago out of necessity. Sleek, black appliances were tucked under the new counter and a matching microwave hung over the stove. I opened the refrigerator door, grabbed a bottled water, and twisted the top open as I went to look for Tom Sullivan, the manager.

  “Stone,” Tom called. “What’s up?”

  Tom, who was a couple of years older than me, was seated behind a computer along the checkout counter, a newly opened box of video games beside him. His shaggy, brown hair grazed his eyebrows. He was the epitome of a geek from the glasses that constantly rode down to the end of his nose to the hideous plaid pants that he wore.

  “Not much,” I answered, walking over to the box and picking up one of the games. I took a sip of my water and set it on the counter.

  “Just got those in,” he said.

  “Yeah, I heard this game rocks.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Tom said. “With any luck, this will bring in some customers and give the sales numbers a boost.”

  “School’s out now,” I said, having just finished my junior year at Quail Mountain High. “Business will definitely pick up over the summer.”

  “Yeah,” Tom agreed. “I just hired the seasonal help.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “In fact, she should be getting here any minute.”

  A large boom of thunder shook the building. Tom and I both looked up at the large, plate glass window along the front of the building. Rain began to patter against the asphalt in the parking lot, leaving it dappled with wet spots. A few seconds later, it began to fall furiously, pelting everything in its path. Lightening sizzled in the sky, like electrified scissors slicing through the dark gray gloom.

  “Looks like it’s going to be one helluva day,” I muttered to Tom.

  “There she is now,” Tom said, ignoring my comment.

  I watched as an old, beige, piece-of-shit, tank-of-a-vehicle pulled into not one, but two parking spots. The car shook and sputtered to a stop. The taillights went out, and Tom and I both watched, waiting for the new girl to make her exit in this godforsaken weather.

  “Hope she brought an umbrella,” Tom mumbled to himself.

  The car door cracked open, and she struggled as she pushed the heavy door open farther, squeezed through the crack, and then closed the door with a quick shove. She darted into the rain, her messenger bag thumping against her hip as she ran. Tanned, slender legs stretched out beneath a blue jean skirt and disappeared into a pair of brown rain boots with pink polka dots.

  By the time she reached the front door, she was drenched. The bell chimed as she opened the door and entered the building. She gave a slight wave to Tom as she approached the counter.

  I glanced down the length of her body, admiring every last, magnificent inch of her. It was Tom’s voice that snapped me back to attention.

  “Stone Hamilton, I’d like you to meet Dara Golding. She’s going to be helping us over the summer.”

  Dara! My eyes flew to her face. I knew that name. I hadn’t recognized her at first. Her shoulder-length, blond hair was so saturated that it looked much darker than normal. Even now, droplets of water clung to the ends of her hair. Dara Golding hung out with the popular crowd from my new school, and she was a freaking snob. She would be a senior next year, like me, thanks to the fact that I had flunked out of boarding school and had been forced to repeat my junior year at the local public school. Unlike me, she made good grades. A regular teacher’s pet. She also dated the leading running back of the high school football team.

  Of all the people Tom could’ve hired, he had to pick her?

  She held
her hand out to me, and I noted her delicate bone structure and her nails, which were painted a soft pink. Reluctantly, I took it. She gripped my hand firmly and shook it with enthusiasm. Not what I expected from such a girly girl.

  “Hi, Stone.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Dara.” Passing her in the hall at school as she hung off of Chance Murray’s arm hadn’t given me the opportunity to notice the color of her eyes. They were almost bright enough to be Kawasaki green.

  “Sorry if I got you wet,” she said as she smiled, revealing straight, white teeth. “I’m soaked. Are there any paper towels around here?”

  Her eyelashes were spiked with water droplets. When she blinked, they splashed against her cheek and rolled down to her jawline. “I can get you a bath towel,” I offered, taking in just how drenched she actually was. “I try to keep one around for emergencies.”

  “So now I’m an emergency?” Her laughter filled the air.

  I don’t know what I had expected, but that wasn’t it. I would have thought she would’ve been really pissed off about her hair being ruined and her mascara running and all that other nonsense girls like her were always worried about. She was making it really hard to keep thinking about her as the uptight snot I had always imagined her to be.

  “Follow me, and I’ll get you the towel. Then, you can use the restroom just off the kitchen to dry off.”

  I opened one of the cabinets over the new countertop and removed the towel that I usually kept reserved for wiping down my motorcycle seat if I got caught in the rain. I handed Dara the towel and watched her as she walked to the restroom. Seeing her outside of school had a whole different feel to it. Maybe it was because her annoying jock wasn’t attached to her hip. Her tanned legs looked as smooth as silk, and I suddenly had the urge to glide my palm along her thigh.

  She disappeared behind the closed door, and I decided it was a good time for a cigarette.

  I pushed the back door open and stepped out beneath the carport, letting the door shut behind me. The rain had eased up some, but it still drummed rhythmically on the metal roof of the carport. I pulled a loose cigarette out of my front shirt pocket and lit it, drawing in deeply. I closed my eyes and exhaled. Chance and Dara were the ideal high school couple, the kind that were crowned Homecoming King and Queen, the kind that were voted Most Popular, the kind that had perfect lives. I drew off my cigarette again, the end of it turning bright orange as it burned away to ash. They were the kind of couple that irritated me.

  I exhaled and propped my arm up against the support post of the car port. Watching a tendril of smoke drift off the end of my cigarette, I wondered why Tom chose her. I cracked a smile. I knew why. One look at her was all it had taken. He probably hadn’t even made her fill out an application. Lightening flashed, followed by a clap of thunder. I was glad it was such a nasty day. It matched my mood.

  I put my cigarette out in a puddle forming near my feet, carried it inside, and tossed it in the trash. Dara was nowhere in sight, but the towel was sitting on the edge of the counter, carefully folded. Her messenger bag hung on a row of hooks near the back door.

  I went to the restroom to brush my teeth and then walked back through the kitchen to the front of the store.

  Tom had already put Dara to work unloading the newly-arrived box of games onto an endcap that was visible as soon as customers walked in the front door.

  “Did that shipment of books come in?” I asked, interrupting him as he entered data into the computer.

  “Yeah.” He pointed to a stack of boxes on the floor by the wall on the other end of the long counter. “Got some CDs in, too.”

  “Have you already added them into inventory?” I asked.

  “Yep. They’re ready to stock.”

  I walked to the stack of boxes and flipped open the flaps, satisfied when I saw a much anticipated release in hardback from a popular author. I lifted the box and carried it to the empty endcap next to Dara and began neatly arranging the books on the shelf.

  “Thanks for the towel,” Dara said as I bent over to pick up another stack of books.

  “No problem,” I replied, not bothering to look away from my task at hand.

  “Have you ever played this game?”

  I glanced at her as she waved one of the games in the air. She was watching me, awaiting my answer. “It’s a new release,” I said, hoping that answered her question and shut her up. I really wasn’t in the mood to chitchat.

  “I’ll have to tell Chance about this. He likes to play video games when he’s not practicing football.”

  Great. Of all the people I didn’t want to hear about….

  “Do you play video games?” she asked.

  I slid the last book into place and grabbed another stack, shoving them into place before I answered her. “Not much. Every once in a while, Tom and I will test a new release.”

  “Cool.”

  I finished emptying the box, turning some of the books cover side out, so customers could easily spot the title and author. Glancing over at Dara, I realized her box was still half full. Looking out the plate glass window, I frowned at the ugly, black clouds. If sales didn’t pick up soon, I didn’t know how much longer this shop would be in business, and this weather wasn’t helping.

  “Didn’t you go to Quail Mountain High last year?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I answered, grabbing a handful of games out of her box and helping her fill the shelf on the endcap.

  “You’ll be a senior next year, right?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I answered. I didn’t need to ask her what grade she’d be in next year. The whole school knew she would be a senior.

  She and I bent down at the same time to grab another stack of games and bumped heads.

  “Shit!” I blurted before I could catch myself. I had a really bad habit of speaking now and thinking about what I was actually saying later, a trait that had pissed off my parents on more than one occasion. Dang, she had a hard head. I blinked, trying to clear the stars that had blurred my vision.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered frantically. “Are you okay?”

  I rubbed the side of my temple, trying to determine the answer to her question. I felt a lump rising, and I closed my eyes for just a moment and breathed deeply.

  “Let me see,” she said.

  I held my palm up toward her. “I’m fine.” I dropped my palm to my knee, not yet rising from my stooped position.

  Before I knew what she was doing, her fingers were in my hair, her gentle touch skimming over the spot where our heads bumped. She was so close that I could smell the delicate fragrance on her skin, and I found myself enticed by her.

  “Oh, my gosh!” she exclaimed. “A knot. Great. My first day of work, and I’ve already given someone a concussion.”

  I laughed, but I didn’t move. I didn’t know why I found her comment so amusing or why I didn’t want her to move her hands. Slowly, I rose, catching her slender wrists in my grasp. “I’m fine,” I said, feeling the pulse in her wrist quicken against my fingertips. Her brilliant green eyes widened, and her full, shimmering-pink lips parted in surprise. “What about you?” I asked.

  I wasn’t sure if she heard my question. She stared at me in shock as if the principal had just caught her making out behind the bleachers.

  “Dara?” I asked, starting to wonder if she was the one with the concussion.

  “I’m…fine,” she said breathlessly.

  I’d been around enough girls to know when I had an effect on them. And she was definitely affected.

  Dara wasn’t the type of female I usually hung out with, but it was nice to know I had the same effect on the goody-two-shoes that I did on the bad girls.

  My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket, glancing at the caller’s name. Speaking of bad girls, Jessie was calling.

  Dara

  I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest. If I hadn’t still been freezing from the cold rain that soaked my hair and clothes, swea
t would’ve been trickling down my temples. The warmth from his hands was like heaven against my icy skin, but his close proximity was dangerous to my hammering heart. In fact, if I had to describe Stone Hamilton in one word, it would be dangerous.

  He was everything I was scared of.

  Thank goodness he had gotten a phone call. The distraction was just what I needed to get myself back on track, to remember why I had taken this job in the first place.

  I watched as he walked toward the door that led to the kitchen. I didn’t know who had called him, but it appeared that he wanted privacy before he answered.

  I had gone to Quail Mountain schools my whole life. Last year was the first year that I had ever seen Stone Hamilton. I assumed that he had moved to the area recently. I didn’t really know, though, because I had never spoken to him until today. He wasn’t the kind of guy that I usually conversed with. He was kind of dark and broody. I had tried to be nice and strike up a conversation with him, but it was difficult when all he would do was give me short answers to my questions.

  Stone had a reputation for attracting females—not females like me, but the ones that seemed to be a little more on the wild side or maybe I should say were more like free spirits, the kind of girls that weren’t weighed down by inhibitions.

  I turned my attention back to the box of games and finished putting them on the shelves. I picked up my empty box and the empty box that Stone had left in front of the endcap beside me.

  “What should I do with these?” I asked Tom, who was still hunched over the computer keyboard, tapping away.

  “We break the boxes down and put them in the cardboard recycling dumpster out back. There’s a box knife in the kitchen drawer by the back door. Just break them down and lean them against the wall behind the door, and we can take them out after it’s stopped raining.”

  “Okay.” I carried the boxes into the kitchen and set them on the counter. I had no idea what a box knife was, but I looked in the drawer that Tom mentioned. There were three box knives in the drawer. At least, I assumed they were box knives. I pulled one out of the drawer and slid the button on the side of it until the edge of a razor blade popped out of the opening on the top. I grabbed the box and flipped it over.