Asher

by Piper Davenport

  “Why are we whispering?” Kim, my best friend of more than ten years, whispered back.

  I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. “I’m kind of lost and my stupid car won’t go over nineteen miles an hour.”

  “So, no different than any other day,” she quipped. “How did the date go?”

  “Sucked.”

  “How bad?” she asked.

  “Getting my eyeballs plucked out by crows while my fingernails were ripped off one-by-one would have been much more enjoyable kind of bad,” I ground out

  “Ew, sorry honey,” Kim commiserated. “Did you have dinner with him?”

  “No. I endured one drink and an appetizer and then faked a phone call. Seriously, Kimmie, the guy was a douche.”

  “So, online dating’s not for you?”

  “Dating, period is not for me.”

  Kim chuckled. “Where are you?”

  “I have no freaking clue,” I admitted. “Somewhere in Arbor Lodge I think?”

  “Holy crap, girl, you don’t want to be lost there when it’s almost dark.”

  “Thanks for stating the obvious.” I leaned forward to get a better view out of the windshield. “It’s totally deserted and I can’t find a street sign to save my life.”

  “What’s around you?”

  “Nothing.” I squinted trying to make out the light in front of me. The area was heavily commercial, so I wasn’t sure what business would be open past eight on a Wednesday night. “I think I see something. Crap. My contacts are killing me.”

  “Pull over and take them out, silly. You have your glasses, right?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to stop, Kimmie... what if I can’t get started again?”

  “What if you can’t see what you’re about to hit?”

  “Stop being so logical,” I ground out.

  Kim sighed. “Please, Dani, be safe. Pull over, put on your glasses, and call your brother.”

  “Fine. I’m pulling over. Hold please.” Guiding my car to the curb, I put it in park. “Okay. I’m gonna hang up and call Elliot.”

  “Good. Call me when—”

  The phone went dead.

  “Crap.” I took a second to pull out my contacts and slide on my glasses, before I glanced in my side mirror and put the car in drive again. “Okay, old lady, please get me somewhere I can find a phone.” I inched out into the street again and rolled about three hundred feet before my car let out a sputter and a hiss and the engine died. “Okay. It’s okay,” I chanted. “We’ve been here before, girl. You can do it.” I cranked the engine and although it turned over, I couldn’t get it to fully engage. I tried again, got it started, but had barely pulled further to the side of the road when it died...again. “No, no, no, no!” I cranked the engine again, but still no luck, so I put it in park.

  Grabbing my purse off the floor, I rummaged around for my phone charger, finding it and plugging it into the lighter, hoping for enough juice to call my brother. I pushed every button on my Nokia in an effort to power it up again, but it had been losing its charge quicker and quicker over the past few weeks and it was now officially dead. “Damn it!”

  I dropped my head to the steering wheel and took a minute to feel sorry for myself as I imagined the six-o’clock news headline, “Young woman murdered after car breaks down in sketchy area of Portland. It’s surprising since she comes from law-enforcement royalty. Another statistic? It certainly looks that way.”

  I’m not entirely sure how long I sat in my dead car and imagined my murder and death before a knock at my window had me squeaking in fright. I glanced out to see an extraordinarily gorgeous man leaning down with a sexy smile on his face. Tall with dark hair and a face that could only be described as beautiful, even with a day’s stubble, he looked quite a bit like Kevin Zegers, blue eyes and all. He wore a pair of faded jeans that looked like they were made for him, a white thermal, tight-fitting shirt that showcased his muscular chest a bit too well, causing my heart to race and my breathing to catch. A black leather jacket that cemented his sexy as hell look completed the ensemble.

  I cranked my window part of the way down... he couldn’t kill me if he could only get his fingers inside, right?

  “You lost, darlin’?” he asked.

  His voice washed over me and I squirmed in my seat as I tried not to sigh at the slight southern twang. “Um, yeah. A little.”

  “Not a great part of town for a pretty girl to get lost in.” He straightened, crossing his arms. “You got someone comin’ for you?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. “Both my car and my phone are dead. So, that would be a big fat no.”

  “Alright. Why don’t you come with me?”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  He smiled again. “Sweetheart, my club’s yard is right down the block. I’ll get some of my brothers to push your car into the lot where it’ll be safe and we can fix it for you tomorrow. In the meantime, you can get out of the cold and either make a phone call or I’ll take you home.”

  I bit my lip and pondered my options. The definite probability of dying of starvation and exposure before morning, or the potential of being murdered by the best looking man I’d ever seen were pretty much all I could come up with.

  “No one will hurt you, if that’s what concerns you,” he promised.

  “I wish that made me feel better,” I admitted. “I mean, I wonder how many women have gone off with some tall, gorgeous man because he said he wouldn’t hurt them, only to be murdered? Super murdered. We’d never know, right? ’Cause they’re dead. Like as in dead, dead, not mostly dead, but all the way dead.”

  His mouth quivered for a second before he burst out in laughter. “You’ve got a point, darlin’, but if you’re with me, no one’ll touch you.”

  “Including you?”

  He sobered, but his eyes were still sparkling with humor. “If that’s what you want.”

  I rolled the window back up and grabbed my purse and keys. I had a feeling I’d regret this sudden trust I was feeling toward him, but I didn’t really have much of a choice other than to let him help me, so I unlocked my door and climbed out of the car.

  He held it for me and slammed it closed once I was on the sidewalk. I’d locked it before he closed it, not that it mattered... no one would steal a piece of crap car like mine and I kept nothing of value in it.

  The wind had picked up since I left the restaurant, and I pulled my coat further around me as we walked down the street. “I’m Danielle, by the way. Um, Dani, actually.”

  “Booker.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Booker.”

  “Just Booker.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  He smiled.

  “You mentioned your club’s yard.” I frowned. “What kind of yard?”

  “This location’s our wreck ’n tow yard. Got other businesses in other locations,” he said vaguely. “Anything with an engine, we can tow, fix or build.”

  I nodded. “And you said ‘club.’ I’m assuming it’s not a sewing club, right?”

  Booker smiled. “Motorcycle club.”

  I stopped. It took him a minute to realize I was no longer beside him, which gave me a partial view of the back of his jacket. Dogs of something. Dogs of Wonder? No, that wouldn’t be right... a badass motorcycle guy wouldn’t have Dogs of Wonder on the back of his jacket.

  Well, crap!

  He walked back toward me. “You okay?”

  “Motorcycle club?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Like Hell’s Angels?”

  Booker smirked. “In theory.”

  “Crap.” I glanced up at him. “I really should go.”

  “Go where, darlin’? There’s nothing around here for over a mile in any direction.”

  “Clarify something for me. Are you a club because you have really nice bikes and like to hang out and drink beer on occasion, or are you like outlaws or something?”

  “Since that’s club business, it’s none of you
rs.”

  “Right.” I couldn’t seem to stop swallowing convulsively. “Just point me in the direction of the closest place I can make a phone call and I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “About twenty-five yards in front of you.”

  “You don’t understand,” I whispered. “I can’t go in there.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because my dad’s the freakin’ chief of police,” I snapped, before realizing I’d just spouted off something that could get me killed or kidnapped in a heartbeat, depending on whose hands that information was in.

  “You’re shittin’ me.”

  I shook my head. “I wish I was.”

  “Well, fuck me.”

  “No thank you,” I quipped. Retorts were my specialty, especially when I was nervous.

  He cocked his head. “You wouldn’t be disappointed, babe.”

  I pressed my lips into a thin line, willing my mouth to stay shut.

  Booker chuckled. “The shop’s clean, sweetheart. Totally legit, although, probably better I take you home than you have your daddy pick you up.”

  “It would be my brother, actually... or Kimmie. Kim’s my best friend. Not that you care who my best friend is.” I took a deep breath, rambling was not a good option right now.

  He smiled again. God, he had a nice smile. Of course, it was the panty-dropping kind, but for now, I wouldn’t react...my undies must stay firmly in place. “There’s only six of us here right now, so we’ll get your car into the lot, get your info, and I’ll take you home.”

  I swallowed. “I should call my brother.”

  “Then we’ll get your car into the lot and you can call your brother.”

  I nodded and let him lead me through a large parking lot surrounded by eight-foot high fencing complete with barbed-wire on top. I followed him into the warmth of a sparse but clean waiting area. It looked like the waiting room in my local oil change place, which for whatever reason surprised me. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe centerfolds from Playboy circa 1984 plastered on the walls?

  “Phone’s on the counter,” Booker said. “Dial nine for an outside line.”

  I nodded and picked up the phone, dialing as he opened a door and yelled, “Mack! Need you in the front.”

  “Hello?” Kim answered, sounding confused.

  “Kimmie, hey it’s me,” I whispered.

  “Ohmigod, Dani!” I could hear the sounds of the restaurant she worked at in the background. “I was worried sick. I take it your cell phone died again?”

  “Yeah.” I glanced to my right and could see Booker talking with someone across the room out of earshot. “It’s officially dead, dead.”

  “Where are you calling me from?” she asked.

  “Um, some wrecking place I managed to break down in front of.”

  “Of course you did,” Kimmie said with a chuckle. “Did you call Ell?”

  “Um, I can’t.”

  “How come?”

  “The shop is owned by a motorcycle club,” I whispered, and glanced at the door again to make sure Booker wasn’t listening.

  “So?” she whispered back.

  “Hello, I’ve seen that Sam Crow show... they’re not entirely above board.”

  Kim burst out laughing, the telltale snort indicating she was unable to control her mirth.

  “Kimmie,” I snapped.

  “Ohmigod, Dani, you are precious. Truly,” she said, and laughed again.

  “Oh, shut up,” I ground out. “You know if I call Elliot, he’ll get all—”

  “Dani? Keys, babe,” Booker demanded.

  I jumped a little because I hadn’t seen him walk back over to me. “Um, hold on a sec,” I said to Kim, and rummaged in my purse. Winding the car key from the rest of my keys, I handed it to him and he nodded then left me again. “Okay, I’m back.”

  “Who was that?” Kim asked.

  “One of the men who works here.”

  “Um, he knew your name and he called you babe,” she pointed out. “I’m thinking you’re being purposely obtuse.”

  “His name’s Booker,” I said.

  “He sounds delicious.”

  “Meh,” I lied.

  “Call Elliot, Dani. Or I can come get you when I get off in an hour.”

  “No,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll call Ell.”

  “Good. Borrow his phone and call me when you get home, okay? I’ve gotta grab my orders.”

  “I will.” I was midway through dialing my brother when Booker returned, so I hung up and forced a smile.

  “You call your brother or friend or whoever?” he asked.

  “Kim. Yes. She’s still at work. I was just about to call my brother.”

  “Why don’t you do that and then you can give me some information while we wait for him.”

  I nodded and picked up the phone again. I got his voicemail. “Hey Ell, it’s me. I broke down in Portland and was wondering if you could come get me. I’m at...,” I glanced up at Booker for assistance, and he handed me a card. I rattled off the address and phone number of Big Ernie’s Wreck ’n Tow, and then hung up again. “Voicemail.”

  “Picked up on that, babe,” he said.

  My cheeks heated. “Right.”

  Booker stepped behind the counter and handed me a piece of paper with Big Ernie’s logo on it. “Write down your address and phone number and I’ll call you when we know what’s wrong with your car.”

  “Are you planning to wreck it?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “We’ll tow it over to the auto repair shop and fix it there.”

  “One of the other businesses, I presume?”

  “Yeah.”

  I nodded. “I won’t be able to answer, but you can leave a message and I’ll call you with a good number.”

  He nodded and I scribbled down my information. I couldn’t imagine what the repairs on my car would be, but as a kindergarten teacher, I could pretty much guarantee they’d be out of my budget. I jumped again when the phone rang... I was seriously wound up with nerves that only a bottle of merlot was going to come close to calming.

  “Big Ernie’s,” Booker said, and then smiled at me. “Yeah, she’s here.”

  He handed me the phone. “Hello?” I said.

  “How the hell did you end up at a scrap yard in Arbor Lodge?” Elliot demanded.

  I watched distractedly as Booker and three other men walked outside and toward where I left my car.

  “No clue,” I admitted. “I was in the Pearl and thought I was going toward Vancouver, but I guess not.”

  “For someone so smart, your sense of direction is pathetic.”

  “Yes, I’m well aware,” I grumbled.

  “Where’s your phone?” he asked.

  “Dead.” I sighed. “Like as in dead, dead.”

  “I’m buying you a new one.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” I argued... for the umpteenth time.

  “I know, sis, but your stubbornness is starting to mess with my schedule,” he said.

  I smiled. I loved my brother, even when he was annoying. “Starting to?”

  He chuckled. “I’m in the middle of something; can you hang out for a while?”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll grab a cab.”

  “Which will cost you the same as a phone,” he said.

  “Point taken big brother.” I wrinkled my nose. “I greatly thank you for your astute observation.”

  “Grab a cab to the station and I’ll drive you home from there.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll head home.”

  “Dani,” he said with a sigh.

  “Elliot,” I mimicked, and smiled. “Seriously. It’s all good. I promised I’d call you and I called you. I might work with five-year-olds, but I’m not one, so don’t worry.”

  “Oh, you’re funny. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Swing by later if you want. I’m just going home. I have to be at work early tomorrow, so it’ll be an early night fo
r me.”

  “How about I grab you a burner and then I’ll order you a decent phone later.”

  “Thanks, Ell. I’ll pay you back,” I said.

  “We can argue about that later. I have to go.”

  “Okay, ’bye.” I hung up and slipped behind the desk in search for a phonebook.

  Danielle

  “YOU NEED SOMETHIN’ darlin’?”

  I jumped (again) and turned to find myself practically chin to navel with the very large man Booker had been speaking to earlier. I looked up and grimaced. He was blond with deep blue eyes and a full beard that begged to be touched. I refrained. Instead, I tried for friendly. “Hi. I’m Dani.”

  “Hi, Dani,” he said, and smiled.

  “Hi,” I repeated, stepping back for space, but only managing to run into the lip of the desk. I refused to wince in his presence, but I did bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood.

  “You said that.”

  “Um, yeah. I did. Great observation skills.” Ohmigod, he is not a five-year-old. Get it together, Dani. “Um, sorry if I wasn’t supposed to be back here, I was looking for a phonebook.”

  “You’re looking for a phonebook,” he said, and stepped closer to me.

  I mean, really. Where the hell was I going to go? He’d just boxed me into a corner. I took a deep breath. “Yes. A phonebook. Do you have one? I need to call a cab. Can you back up a bit, please?”

  “You need to call a cab,” he said, his voice low and raspy.

  I let out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, I need to call a cab. My brother can’t pick me up. He’s still at the station.” Why did I feel the need to offer so much information?

  “Station?” Mack frowned. “As in police station?”

  Crap!

  I bit my lip. “Will you please let me by? You’re making me nervous and all I want to do is to call someone to pick me up and take me home.”

  “I’ll take you home,” Booker said as he walked back inside, a scowl on his face directed at “big biker man” in front of me. “And get the hell away from her, Mack. You can see she’s freaked.”

  “Did she tell you her brother’s a cop?” Mack demanded.

  “Detective, actually,” I corrected and then dropped my head. I needed to shut the hell up.

  “Move the hell away from her,” Booker repeated. I took a minute to look at him and his expression was a little scary. He gave his friend a look like he would kill him if he didn’t do as he said. Instead of making me nervous, it made me feel protected. Another clear indication there was something inherently wrong with me.