by Atlas, Lilly
“LJ! Hey, brother, glad to hear your voice. We were wondering if you survived the night.” Zach said. There was a loud clanking in the background. Zach must be at work. He owned the local gym in town and did some seriously great business.
“I’m still kicking…barely.”
Zach laughed. “How many women did you wake up with this morning?”
That would be none. Because he never woke up with a woman. In order for them to wake up in his bed or vice versa, he’d have to fall asleep with them, and there was no way in hell that was happening. One disaster on that front was enough to last him a lifetime.
“Hey, Z, Toni around? I had something to run by her.”
The laugh that came from Zach was slightly evil. “Damn, must have been quite a night if you won’t even talk about it. But yeah, Toni is here, helping out at the front desk. Everything all right?”
Protective didn’t come close to describing Zach. Of course, he wouldn’t let LJ talk to his woman before ensuring the topic of conversation wouldn’t upset her in any way. “You bet. Just had an idea for her.”
“You got it, brother. Hang on a sec.”
Brother. Damn, that word sounded so good. LJ had been a prospect for way longer than the usual timeframe. One emergency after another with the club had kept him from being patched in when he should have. But as of last night, that was all in the past. He was officially a fully-patched member of the Hell’s Handlers Motorcycle Club.
“Hey, LJ, what can I do for you?” Toni came on the line.
“Hey, hon. Listen, I have this new neighbor…”
CHAPTER TWO
“YOU MEET YOUR next-door neighbor?”
“Huh?” Holly faced her dad. “What did you say?” She dropped the box she’d been hauling on the floor of her bedroom.
“Need me to talk to him? Check him out?” Her father rested his arm on a stack of boxes all marked Clothes.
“Dad, what are you talking about?”
“Here, sweetie,” Holly’s mom, Cynthia, handed her a tall glass of ice water. She had some residual back problems from an old injury, so she’d been relegated to opening kitchen boxes and washing the dusty dishes.
“Thanks, mom,” Holly said as she grabbed the glass from her gray-haired mother. Cynthia had recently decided to stop dying her hair and embrace all that fifty-seven was doing to her head. Looked good on her. Elegant.
Her dad, on the other hand, still had a full head of light hair in the exact same neatly parted style she could always remember him wearing it. “I saw a big guy jogging down from the apartment next to you as we pulled in this morning. And you keep looking at the door every time we go up or down the stairs. Figured you were nervous about living next to him.”
With a sigh, Holly rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she was more annoyed with her Dad for assuming every male in the universe was out to harm her or disappointed that LJ had left without so much as a hello.
Geez, listen to her. It’s not like they were actually friends. They’d only been in each other’s presence an hour or so. Much more of this thinking and she’d be creeping up on psycho territory.
“Dad, don’t you dare ‘check him out,” she said, crooking her fingers air-quote style. “Please. I do not want to be known as the girl in the apartment complex with the meddling cop father. I met my neighbor yesterday. He’s a very nice guy who helped me carry a bunch of heavy boxes. End of story.”
Her dad frowned, and her mother looked seconds from crying as she worried her bottom lip and ran the dishtowel over one plate again and again.
Shoulda kept my big mouth shut.
“Honey,” her mom whispered, clutching the dish to her chest like a life preserver. “You can’t be letting strange boys into your apartment. It’s so dangerous. You know what could happen.”
“I’m checking him out,” her dad said. He pulled the notepad he always carried out of his back pocket. Habit of a former detective. Now, as sheriff of a small town, he could probably lose the pad, but Holly didn’t see that happening anytime soon. “What’d you say his name was?”
“I didn’t.” She folded her arms across her chest. Here they went with the same conversation they’d been having for years. Twelve years to be exact. It was as though in her parents’ eyes, her development had frozen solid the day her sister disappeared. She was forever an immature pre-teen in their minds. Doomed to need mom and dad to save her from herself and all the poor choices she was one step away from making. “And he’s not a boy, Mom. He’s a twenty-five-year-old man like I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman.”
Just as she was working up a real mad, a tear spilled from the corner of her mother’s eye and rolled down her wrinkling face. And like every time before it, Holly’s resolve wavered. How could she begrudge the woman her overprotective nature when her child had been kidnapped and murdered?
She couldn’t. End of story.
Holly was their last link to the daughter they’d lost. An exact replica and a daily reminder of their pain and devastation. For years, that knowledge had messed with her head. Okay, it still messed with her head despite all the protests of being a grown woman. Her parents treated her as though she might be snatched out from under them at any point. And it never changed no matter how old she got. There was a time when Holly had considered moving across the country to break the cycle, but she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t leave them to worry themselves sick over her wellbeing.
Where her parents were concerned, she was admittedly weak. The guilt of causing them fear and sleepless nights was too much to handle, so she allowed them far too much control over her life so they would have some semblance of peace. Hence why a twenty-four-year-old woman followed her parents from the suburbs of Tampa to a little town in the mountains of Tennessee. Though, she had put her foot down on living with them. She may be a pushover where they were concerned, but she had a limit to her tolerance, and living with them was it.
They’d engaged in an epic showdown complete with hysterics from her mom, statistics of raped and murdered women from her dad, and snickers from her older brother who worked SWAT out of Knoxville.
“Him being a man makes it worse, honey,” her mother said, laying a soft hand on her daughter’s arm. “We just worry about you because we love you so much. If anything were to happen—” Her mother brought her closed fist to her mouth to smother a sob.
“Mom,” Holly said as she wrapped her arms around her mother. “I’m fine. Dad just added about ten deadbolts to my door. I’m on the second floor. I have pepper spray in my purse. The parking lot is well lit. My neighbor is very nice. I have Biscuit. You guys are exactly three point four miles away, and I have a direct in with local law enforcement.” She drew back and looked her mother straight in the eye before giving her father the same attention. “I’m safe, I’m happy, and I’m excited to start this new chapter in my life. Okay?”
Her mom sniffed. “All right.” Then she walked over to Holly’s dad who wrapped her in a gentle hug. “You’ll check him out, right, Doug?”
“Of course, Cyn.”
Holly ground her molars together. Why did she bother? It wasn’t as though they cared one single bit about her wants and needs. Especially when it came to the need for independence. It wasn’t easy, but Holly forced herself to remember a lack of trust in her wasn’t what fostered this behavior, but the trauma of actually having a daughter stolen from them in the worst way.
And once again, Holly caved. Didn’t stand up for herself. Let her parents walk all over her.
“Hey, think this is the last one. Where do you want this bitch?” her brother yelled from the front door.
“Daniel, language!” her mother said as she frowned at Holly’s older brother.
With a laugh, Holly called out, “What’s it say on the box?”
“Kitchen. Big surprise.”
“Hmm, I know you aren’t the smartest guy out there, but I’m pretty sure even you can figure this one out, big bro.”
“Holly Eliz
abeth!” It was her turn to be scolded, but she’d take it, because it broke the tension of moments ago.
“What?” she asked her mother with an innocent expression. Cynthia shook her head and walked out of the kitchen, followed closely by Doug. Probably off to plot the FBI investigation of her poor neighbor. Pretty much killed any chance of seeing the guy without his clothes on.
Holly sighed. So much for that fantasy coming to life. He’d been so yummy. Super tall and bulging with enormous muscles all over. The bald head and close-cropped beard did crazy things to her insides. As did all those delicious tattoos.
Danny lumbered into her bite-sized kitchen and set the box on the stove. “You’re funny, Hol. Just because we don’t live in the same house doesn’t mean I can’t put frogs in your bed still.” He grabbed the stretchy headband she’d donned to keep any stray hairs at bay and snapped it against her scalp.
“Ouch! You’re such a bully,” Holly said as she elbowed him in the gut.
Of course, that landed her in a headlock which was how their parents found them a few seconds later.
“Daniel, seriously? You’re a decorated police officer. Don’t you think you should be a little more mature?”
Holly almost laughed. The stories he’d regaled her with about the guys on his SWAT team were anything but mature. With six years on her, they’d had a love-hate relationship growing up. She and Joy would gang up on him, though he always managed to best the duo. Once Joy was killed, that all changed, and they’d grown much closer. Though she didn’t see him nearly as often as she’d like, they remained tight but never stopped giving each other shit. It was just part of their dynamic.
“Sorry, Mom,” he said as he rolled his eyes in Holly’s direction.
She just snickered.
“Okay, Holly,” Cynthia said, voice all business. “Keep putting us to work. What should I unpack next?”
Danny shot her a look that screamed “Please, no more!” which was pretty much the same way Holly felt. It was about four in the afternoon and they’d been working since seven. Enough was enough. Not only of lugging boxes but also of time spent with the parents.
“You know what?” Holly said with a smile as she gently encircled an arm around her mother’s shoulders. They were the same height, but the similarities ended there. Slight, almost waif-like, Cynthia was far more delicate than her daughter. She always had her light pink glasses on, which was the only pop of color the woman ever wore. Everything she owned was black, white, or gray. It’d gotten so bad, Holly could barely stand to wear something if it wasn’t radiating color to offset the monochromatic mother she’d grown up staring at. Well, once Joy had died anyway. “I’m beat. Thinking I’m gonna order a pizza and zone out on Netflix since Danny got the TV all set up.”
Her mother adjusted her glasses. “Would you like us to stick around? I’d hate for you to be lonely or nervous all by yourself.”
“We’d be happy to stay for a while, Holly Berry,” her dad said, using the atrocious nickname she’d garnered as a child.
Were they kidding? She was dying for some alone time.
“I’ll stick around,” Danny said once again reaching for her headband. This time she was ready and slapped his hand away. “Dad, why don’t you take mom to that Italian place you told me you’ve been meaning to check out? You guys have only been here a few weeks, you need to scope out the good joints for Hol.” He winked at her.
Sometimes Danny was the best brother a girl could ask for.
“Hmm, what do you say Cyn? Care to accompany the town’s sheriff on a date?” He held out his arm for his wife.
“I’d be delighted,” her mom replied, curling her arm around her husband’s as she lovingly gazed at him. For all her parent’s faults, they genuinely loved each other. Many relationships fell to pieces after suffering the loss of a child. Not her parents. They drew comfort and strength from each other instead of turning against one another.
“Well, all right,” Danny said with a cheesy grin. “You two crazy kids get on out of here.” As though he were a cattle dog, he herded her parents toward the door.
“Bye, Holly,” her mother called out.
“Bye, guys!” she said around a laugh. “Have fun. And thank you!”
“Keep your doors locked!” her father yelled. “Stay away from the neighbor until I check him out. Maybe you should send Danny over—"
“Yeah, okay, we’ll do that. Buh-bye.” Danny practically shut the door in their parents’ faces. “Shit, they’re like ten sets of parents in one, aren’t they?” he said with his back resting against the door.
“Seriously.” Holly ran a hand through her hair, pulling out the rubber band. As her hair fell around her shoulders, she grimaced. “Ugh, I’m so sweaty and gross. Here.” She tossed Danny a pizza delivery menu she’d found tucked under the windshield wiper of her car that morning. “Order whatever you want while I take a shower. My treat.”
The menu fluttered to the floor not even halfway to her brother. With a snort, he moved to retrieve it. “Nice throw there, slick. And, fuck yeah, you’re paying. I drove my ass all the way out here on my day off only to be used as slave labor.”
“Ha,” Holly said as she started for the bathroom. “Sorry you had to drive a whole fifty minutes there, bro.” She flipped him off. “Credit card is in my wallet.”
His bark of laughter had her smiling. “Feels fucking good to swear now that the ’rents are gone, huh?”
“Sure as fuck does.” She wasn’t a huge swearer but being forbidden to do it always made her want to run her mouth like a sailor.
Danny laughed again, and as she slipped into her room, she heard him ordering an extra-large pie with the works.
Twenty-five minutes later, Holly strolled out of her bedroom, hair clean and dry just as Danny was shutting the door while balancing a giant pizza box and a smaller Styrofoam box she assumed was garlic knots. “You got any beer?” he asked as he placed the box on her mini kitchen island.
“Sure do. It’s in the fridge.” The smell of piping hot pizza-goodness hit her nose before she’d even stepped into the kitchen. “Oh man, that smells amazing. My mouth is watering.” As she spoke, her stomach let out a loud rumble. “And my stomach is growling, apparently.” She grabbed a slice from the box, not bothering with a plate, and took a giant bite. “Mmmm,” she moaned with her mouth full.
“You’re such a lady,” Danny said as he returned with two beers.
“Damn straight,” she said, around the bite.
“Oh here, the pizza guy handed this to me. Said it was taped to your door.” Danny flicked an envelope across the island.
After swallowing her pizza and washing it down with an icy swig of beer, she peeled the envelop open. Inside was a small slip of paper.
Toni – 387-555-8757. Owns the diner in town. They close at 2pm. She’s a friend. – LJ
The words were scrawled in a masculine chicken scratch.
A mix of emotions ran through Holly. Gratitude and happiness at the fact LJ had gone out of his way to think of her and inquire about a place for her to rent kitchen space. Unfortunately, those positive vibes were chased away by a completely irrational jealousy of whoever this Toni woman was. Girlfriend? Fiancé? Fuck buddy?
She’d enjoyed the time spent with LJ yesterday, and had been excited by the prospect of living next door to a single and sexy man. But, of course, he’d have a woman in his life. He was giant-tall, bearded, mouth-wateringly muscled and—she read the note again—clearly sweet. She’d probably have to witness a parade of women coming and going from the apartment next to hers. The thought made the pizza turn over in her stomach.
“You frown at that paper any harder, and it might sprout legs so it can run away from you.”
Holly jumped. Crap, she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone. From across the island, Danny watched her with concern. “Everything okay?”
With a smile for her big brother, she shrugged off the unwarranted jealousy and nodded. “Yes, better tha
n okay, actually. I’ve got my first lead on a possible rental kitchen, courtesy of my new neighbor,” she said as she waved the paper in Danny’s face
“From your neighbor, huh?” He reached for a second slice. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned him. Is he cuuute?” he asked as though he were a high school girl instead of a thirty-year-old SWAT officer.
But of course, since he’d hit the nail on the head, Holly’s face flamed, which only caused him to crack up. “Oh, my God, look at your red face. I think someone has a crush! That’s so adorable.”
“Shut up!” She balled up her napkin and shot it across the island. It hit Danny square in the face, which had her dissolving in giggles.
Once they’d calmed and resumed eating, Danny grew serious. “Glad you decided to move out here with Mom and Dad. I know it was a hard decision and that they need to mellow as far as you’re concerned, but I’m thrilled to have you close again.”
Holly’s throat constricted, making it difficult to swallow. “Thanks, Dan.”
He gave her a smile. “I’m gonna help you out as far as they’re concerned. Get them to back off and start seeing you as an adult. It’s more than just them being overprotective, isn’t it?”
Holly nodded as she felt the telltale prickle of tears in her eyes. “Yeah, it’s a little unhealthy. On both our parts. Their constant need to know where I am, what I’m doing, and who I’m with, and my always giving them what they ask for.” She shrugged. “If circumstances were different…” If Joy hadn’t been murdered…
“Yeah, I get it. I’m on your side, Hol.”
“Thanks, Danny.”
Holly fingered the note again. Meddlesome parents aside, the pieces of her life were beginning to fall into place. She’d have to think of something to bake for LJ. As a thank-you, of course, not a means to worm her way over to his apartment.
CHAPTER THREE
FIVE A.M. WAS way too fucking early to be driving to work. For Christ’s sake, the goddammed sun hadn’t even shown its face. As the primary project manager for one of his club brother’s construction companies, he often worked long-ass days, but this was pushing it. He’d been working with Rocket for the past few years, even before prospecting with the club. In fact, Rocket was the one who introduced him to the Handlers and encouraged him to prospect. A fellow veteran with his own set of demons, Rocket had boasted the sense of brotherhood in the MC rivaled that of the military, and so far, he’d been right.