Out of the Darkness: a Hope Valley novel

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Out of the Darkness: a Hope Valley novel Page 2

by Prince, Jessica


  “Christ,” I grunted, dragging my hands through my hair before bracing them on my hips and finally meeting her gaze head-on. “This isn’t workin’ for me anymore. I think it’s probably best we end it here and now.”

  The truth was, even if I had been the kind of man to do a relationship, it wouldn’t have been with a woman like Mallory. There was a reason I picked women like her when the itch became too unbearable not to scratch. I frequented bars like Rebels and other shitholes because they catered to a certain kind of audience. If The Tap Room was the cool, laid back hot spot where everyone wanted to be, Rebels was the complete opposite. There were only two reasons a man went to a bar like that. Because he wanted a quick, no-strings fuck, or he was looking to spill another man’s blood. Sometimes both in one night.

  Women went to those kinds of shitholes because they got off on the danger of hooking up with men like me. They enjoyed walking that dark edge. The thrill mixed with a hint of fear got them off harder than any normal guy could, and they craved that taste of wild.

  Mallory was definitely that kind of woman. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she wouldn’t have gone home alone that night a couple months back, even if it hadn’t been with me. She hadn’t been at Rebels to kick back and take a load off. She was there hunting. She was looking to get laid, and I was the most enticing offer of the evening.

  I didn’t judge a woman for knowing what she wanted and being free enough to enjoy herself in whatever way. Men and women alike had every right to get off however they wanted without any stipulations or stigmas. I had no problem with that.

  What I did have a problem with was when they tried to change the state of play because they’d gone into it with a hidden agenda, hoping to get more from a man than was promised.

  “End it,” she repeated.

  “Yes.”

  “Because this isn’t working for you anymore.”

  She added finger quotes to ‘working’, and it took everything I had not to roll my eyes. “That’s right.”

  That set her into motion. In a flurry of uncoordinated, jerky movements, she shot from the bed, ripping the sheet from the mattress and taking it with her as she darted around the room, gathering her clothes and ranting all the while. “I can’t believe I wasted two months on you!” She paused in her task of dressing long enough to shoot me a killing look, curling her top lip up in disgust. “So not worth it. Stringing me along this whole time,” she muttered as she pulled on the microscopic skirt she’d shown up in a few hours ago. “What an asshole!”

  “Just to say, we’ve seen each other, what, five, maybe six times?” I asked, feeling the need to point out the flaw in her accusation. “I’d text, you’d show, we’d fuck, then you’d go home. How the hell is that me stringin’ you along?”

  “I would have stayed if you’d given me even a hint that was what you wanted,” she fired back, losing some of her steam in the face of my logic.

  “But I didn’t,” I pointed out. “And again, that just proves I wasn’t stringin’ you along. It showed you exactly where we stood, that being where I told you we’d stand right before you agreed to go home with me that night at Rebels. I told you exactly what I had to give, that being a couple orgasms, and that was it. If you didn’t like it, you didn’t have to show every time I texted. Hate to say it, darlin’, but that’s on you.”

  Her lips thinned in a tight, unhappy line as she glared at me. I could see the wheels moving behind her eyes. She wanted to be pissed at me, wanted this whole thing to be my fault, and she wasn’t going to back down, no matter what.

  “You know, I feel sorry for you,” she clipped as she finished strapping her bra into place. I remained completely silent as she finished donning the rest of her clothes, waiting to see what she said next. “You’re letting something great walk out the door because you’re all kinds of fucked up. I don’t know what your deal is, Xander, but if you don’t get your shit straight, the rest of your life is gonna be sad and lonely.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as she slipped on her ridiculously high heels and stomped over to grab her purse off the dresser. I didn’t bother speaking. After all, there was nothing to say, really. She was right. I was all kinds of fucked up. I knew that. And I wasn’t going to bother pointing out that there was no hope I’d ever get straight. I’d accepted the fact I was destined to be alone for the rest of my life a long time ago. No woman deserved being tied to the likes of me for the long haul, even if they thought that was what they wanted.

  Mallory started for the bedroom door but stopped to look back and issue her parting shot. “I pity the woman you end up falling for. It’ll happen, Xander. When you least expect it, some poor, unsuspecting woman’ll cross your path and you’ll fall head over heels. I just hope she’s smart enough to run, ’cause a fucked-up asshole like you will ruin her life.”

  With that, she turned and stormed out. A second later I heard the front door slam shut. Only then did I move, going through my place to lock up and kill all the lights. Then I fell into bed, hoping the darkness inside me would let up long enough to let me get a few hours of sleep.

  What I didn’t do was think about Mallory’s last words. There was no point, because I knew the truth.

  I was never going to fall in love.

  Not again.

  Chapter Two

  Sage

  My stomach had been a jumble of anxious knots since my alarm had gone off earlier that morning. I’d started my new job, and I was rocking those first-day jitters like crazy.

  I’d called regarding the position Danika told me about and been excited when the woman I’d spoken to set up an interview with me. I was a little thrown when she informed me the interview was going to take place at the diner in town, but I let it go, thinking the cozier atmosphere would make the whole scene less stressful.

  I had no idea what to expect when I first walked into Evergreen Diner. I’d stopped just inside the door, my gaze bouncing around in search of a professional looking woman in a smart skirt suit or something. But a few seconds later a hand came up, and the woman it was attached to, with bright red hair and even brighter eyeshadow, waved me over. I took her in as I moved toward the booth where she was sitting. If I had to guess, she was in her mid-fifties and her flashy green top was cut so low she was sporting some serious cleavage. I could tell by what I saw from the waist up that she was pleasantly rounded, and the top was tight, hugging all those curves like a second skin. Her hair was teased and curled out to there, and her lips were painted a bold red.

  I liked her on the spot. She knew herself and her style and didn’t give a single flip what anyone else thought.

  The meeting had gone so much better than I’d hoped, and after an hour of small talk, Roxanne had shocked the hell out of me by offering me the job without even checking my references. When I’d asked why she’d had so much trouble filling the position, her ominous reply of, “Oh, you’ll see,” gave me pause. But I needed the job.

  I had a little in savings, but not nearly enough to get by without working. I figured it was the typical issue of the boss being a dick, but I could handle that. I’d worked for plenty of dicks in my time. I even had one boss who tried to grope me. Sure, I’d lost the job after I broke a couple of his fingers, but I wasn’t too sad about it. And I definitely hadn’t put that asshole down as a reference.

  I took extra care with my appearance that morning. According to Roxanne, the dress code at Alpha Omega Investigations ran toward casual. Basically, you could wear whatever you wanted as long as it wasn’t pajamas, but even though that was the case, I chose to err on the side of caution and bought a few new outfits.

  They were still me, just slightly more . . . toned down.

  I wore a pair of skinny jeans with some kickass strappy black heels I found in a cute boutique in town. They had brushed silver studs on the straps across my toes and the ones that wrapped around my ankles. My top was a comfy black cotton with lacy capped sleeves. It was loose around m
y middle with a thick elastic band about three inches wide that hugged my hips and gave it a slightly more fashionable look, but it was the silk screen on the front of a wolf howling at a full moon that made me fall in love with it. The whole ensemble was trendy without making me look or feel like something I wasn’t. As a bonus, the shop where I’d gotten everything was inexpensive and had the best stuff.

  Pulling my baby into a spot right out front, I climbed out and headed into Muffin Top for a morning pick-me-up before I started my day.

  The place was a crush of early morning patrons looking for the same caffeine fix I was.

  “Well hey there,” Dani called from behind the counter once she spotted me. “Look at you. That top is awesome. And those shoes . . .”

  I paused long enough to strike a pose and kick a foot out to give her a better look. “You like?”

  “I love,” she replied. “I’m thinking I need to take you shopping with me.”

  “I’m so down for that,” I said, smiling huge as I moved closer to the counter. “You just name the time and place, and I’m there. Oh! But not between the hours of eight and five Monday through Friday.”

  “Oh my god. You got the job!” she exclaimed, rounding the counter and coming out into the main area.

  “I did.” Grabbing my hands, she did an excited little shuffle that was so adorable, I couldn’t help but join in right there in the middle of the coffee shop.

  “That’s fantastic, babe. I’m so happy for you,” she said excitedly. I might not have been in town long enough to know Danika well, but from everything I’d seen so far, she was pretty awesome and definitely someone I wouldn’t mind having in my tribe.

  “Thanks. I’m actually kind of nervous,” I admitted, pressing my palms to my fluttering belly. “Today’s my first day.”

  “Don’t be nervous. If you’ve won Roxanne over, you’re in. She’s the best.”

  That helped to settle some of my nervous energy, but just to be on the safe side, I planned to do a little bit of ass kissing. “Speaking of Roxanne, you have any clue how she takes her coffee? I figured coming in with a cup for her would earn me some brownie points.”

  Danika’s face stretched into a knowing grin. “Smart. One of the benefits of a small town, me and my girls pretty much know what everyone likes. Just tell Molly at the counter who you’re ordering for and she’ll know what to make.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  “Any time. I need to get back to the kitchen, but give me a call later. We’ll set up a night to get drinks and celebrate.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  She leaned in, giving me a quick hug before shuffling around the counter and to the back.

  I started for the register, my mouth beginning to water at the thought of sinking my teeth into one of Dani’s cranberry and orange scones when the roar of pipes yanked me to a stop.

  That sound took me back to my childhood. Memories of riding on the back of my dad’s Harley flooded my head and caused a smile to tug at my lips. It had been forever since I heard that distinctive rumble. Shortly after Dad’s arrest, my mom pulled me from our life in Tennessee and moved us to Arizona to shack up with her newest boyfriend. We’d lived in a McMansion that backed up to a sprawling golf course, and among those country clubbers and golfers, there wasn’t a motorcycle to be seen. I dated a couple guys who had bikes, but having grown up with the real deal biker, they were obvious wannabes, and it left a bad taste in my mouth.

  Then I’d spent years with John, who was convinced any person who rode a motorcycle was low class, and I’d been so hung up on pleasing him, I’d changed who I was, leaving the biker princess behind to become whatever he wanted me to be. It had been stupid, but I’d learned my lesson, and the first thing I did when I left his elitist ass was find myself again.

  To a girl like me, that sound had the same effect as the music from an ice cream truck would for other kids. I related that sound to the blissful times of my childhood.

  Excitement coursed through my veins, and I stood immobile, staring out the window of Muffin Top as nostalgia washed over me. The bike finally came into sight, or, more to the point, the man riding it came into sight, parking a badass, solid black Harley in the empty spot right beside my Mustang. Along with being glued to the spot, my lungs deflated as I watched the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on kick the stand down and swing his long, powerfully muscled leg over.

  Even from far away, I could tell the guy was tall, as in freaking tall, and every inch of him was packed with muscle. His black hair shined beneath the bright morning sun, the longish strands curling around his ears and sweeping the collar of his T-shirt. Faded jeans encased his thick thighs, leading to a pair of worn, dusty biker boots. This dude definitely wasn’t a wannabe. He looked like he’d been born to be on a bike.

  Thanks to the distance and the mirrored aviators he was wearing, I couldn’t get a good look at his face, but that didn’t stop the pulse from shooting between my legs straight to my nipples, causing them to stiffen beneath my bra.

  I was pulled from my perusal of the hunk by the sound of my phone ringing in my purse. My skin began to prickle, but not in the pleasant way it had been while I was staring at the biker. It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on me. Now a days, there were only two people blowing up my phone, and I dreaded speaking to either of them.

  I hadn’t spoken a word to my mother since her last and biggest betrayal, and I had no intention of starting now. When I left John, I’d cut her out of my life, draining the poison she’d infected me with for years. But just because I was done with her didn’t mean she was done with me, and for reasons I couldn’t possibly fathom after what she’d done, she kept on calling.

  However, as miserable and vile as she was, she was the lesser of the two evils who called on a regular basis. John hadn’t taken too kindly to me leaving him, something he showed me in one of the worst ways. He was a man used to getting exactly what he wanted right when he wanted it, and having me be the one to end things was a blow to his ego he couldn’t handle. After that horrible night six months ago, I’d thought he’d finally leave me alone.

  I’d thought wrong.

  I hesitated as I pulled the phone out. Mom Calling the display read like a warning. “Shit,” I hissed on a whisper, staring at my phone like it was a cobra about to strike. I stood like that for so long that the ringing eventually stopped, and a chime sounded, alerting me to a new voicemail. Just like all the others she’d left since I climbed into my baby and fled my old life, stopping first in Tennessee to visit my dad in prison before topping off my tank and heading for parts unknown, I intended to leave this one sitting without listening to it. After all, she didn’t have a goddamn word to say that I wanted to hear.

  Stuffing the cell back into my bag, I started for the register once more. I’d almost made it to the counter when I had to jerk to a sudden stop to avoid colliding with the huge monster of a man who’d just rudely darted in front of me.

  My face pinched into an unhappy frown as I stared in shock at the faded T-shirt stretched over the giant’s back while he mumbled his order to Molly. He was at least six and a half feet tall, dwarfing me completely, but his size did nothing to dissuade me from calling him out. “Uh, excuse me.” Assuming he didn’t hear me since he hadn’t turned around, I tapped him on his massive shoulder to get his attention. “Excuse me.”

  The man finally turned, and I was forced to pull in a sharp breath when I realized the cutter was none other than the Adonis on the bike. I got my first glimpse of his face, up close and personal, and it went without saying that the dude was hot. The full beard covering his chin and jaw was the same sexy midnight color as his hair, both sprinkled with hints of salt throughout that made him look even more mouthwateringly rugged.

  Even with his awesome facial hair, I could see the definition in his sharp cheek bones and his full, pillowy lips. His long, straight nose looked like it belonged on a male model, and with the sunglasses now hook
ed in the collar at the front of his shirt, I could see his eyes were an inky black so deep they seemed bottomless.

  With just one look I sensed an underlying danger in this guy that made my breathing shallow. To most women, that would send up a red flag telling them to run, but I wasn’t most women. I’d grown up around bikers all my life, so there was something about the ruggedness of a bearded man with an edge to him that just did it for me in a very big way, and this guy had all of that in spades.

  He was the antithesis to my ex in every way possible. I’d changed myself to match John, but with one glance, I knew this guy was of my ilk, no doubt about it. And even though I’d taken a break from men, I wasn’t dead. I still allowed myself to window-shop.

  I felt my lips pull in a small smile, and my inner flirt started rising to the surface. But when he opened his mouth and clipped, “Christ. What?” in a tone liberally laced with agitation, the spell was suddenly broken.

  “I was already here,” I said as my grin fell into a scowl.

  “Don’t know how you figure that, seein’ as I’m in front of you.”

  Okay, so this guy wasn’t edgy. He was just a prick. “You’re in front of me because you just cut in line.”

  He glanced over my shoulder before returning those bottomless eyes back to me. “This some sort of imaginary line?”

  I looked back to see there was no one behind me. But that didn’t matter. “I’m the line,” I snapped.

  “Usually a line consists of more than one person. There was no one else behind you, and you were fuckin’ around with your phone when I came in, so I got here first. Now why don’t you back the hell off and wait your turn.”

  Squeezing my hands into tight fists, I spoke through gritted teeth, “I wasn’t fucking around on my phone. I was walking to the register when you rudely pushed in front of me. That’s the very definition of cutting.”

 

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