“Oh.” My heart drops. I should want to leave. Only I don’t. I have no desire to go back to Rocks Peak and I sure as hell don’t want to go home.
Here I thought he was being sweet by buying me clothes, when in reality he was showing me to the front door. Maybe Link was wrong. Maybe he doesn’t want me here after all.
“Or you could stay,” Link offers, his eyes darting between me and Titus.
“I’m sure she has somewhere else she would rather be.” Titus shakes his head, popping another bite of biscuit into his mouth.
“Actually.” I clear my throat, and both sets of eyes swing in my direction. “If it’s not too much trouble, do you think I could stay another day or two? If not that’s totally fine. It’s just, well, I don’t have any of my stuff. I left my purse and phone at the lake house in Rocks Peak. And honestly, I really don’t have anywhere else to go,” I lie. I have somewhere to go. Home. I just don’t want to.
I’ve been planning my escape for years. Looking forward to the day when I could leave Raleigh behind and never look back. True, this isn’t exactly how I pictured it—or at all how I pictured it for that matter—but I’m out. I’m off the grid and no one knows where I am. I finally escaped. And even though I have no idea of my next move, the one thing I do know is that there’s no way I’m going back.
“Of course you can stay here,” Link responds, but I don’t miss the look that passes over Titus’ face when he says it. “Can’t she, T?”
“I guess a couple days won’t hurt,” he grumbles, picking the rest of his biscuit up off his plate without touching the gravy next to it. “I have some work to do.” He pushes to a stand. “I’ll run you out to Rocks Peak to get your things later this afternoon.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I object. The thought of going to Rocks Peak right now is more than I can stomach.
Titus turns toward me. “We’ll be in and out. You can get your things and then come back here for the time being.”
“I’m honestly not even sure how to get there,” I admit.
“Do you know what road it’s on?”
“Halls Creek, I think.”
“Then I can get you there.” With that, he spins on his heel and walks away, disappearing outside seconds later.
“See, told you that you could stay.” Link smiles to himself. “Now come on, eat up before it gets cold,” he instructs before shoving another large bite into his mouth.
Chapter Three
Titus
“Hey.” I pop my head up at the sound of Link’s voice, spotting him as he makes his way into the shop.
“I thought you were on girl duty.” I drop the wrench onto my workbench and grab a ratchet, turning back to the ’71 Kawasaki motorcycle I’ve been working on.
“She’s in the shower.”
“Didn’t she take a shower last night?” After she had gone to bed, I made the poor decision of slipping into the hallway bathroom to shower, only to be greeted by water cold enough to give me hypothermia. Needless to say, that was the fastest fucking shower I’ve ever taken.
“Maybe she felt dirty after sleeping in your filthy bed,” he fires back, stepping up behind me to check on my progress. “I gotta say, when Cliff dropped this piece of shit off I didn’t think there was any way you could salvage it, but it’s really starting to come together.”
“Yeah, it’s only taken me how many weeks?” I grunt. “I’ll be glad to send this one on its way.”
“When’s he picking it up?”
“Couple of days.” I shrug. “In the meantime, we’ve got the Harley and the BMW to get finished. Jack is going to be here next week for the Harley and there’s still a shit ton of work that needs to be done.” I give him an expectant look, given that he’s the one that’s supposed to be doing the Harley.
“Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours. I’ll have it done by the time he gets here.” He shuffles his feet. “Well, that is unless you intend on keeping me on babysitting duty.”
“You don’t seem to have too much issue with that. A little Suzie fucking homemaker you are.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. I expected you to keep an eye on her. Not bond with her over a home cooked breakfast.” I straighten my posture, dropping the ratchet back onto the bench before turning to face Link. “Nice touch by the way.”
“Don’t give me shit. The girl needed to eat.”
“You could have offered her a fucking Poptart or a bowl of cereal. I can’t remember the last time you actually cooked breakfast.”
“That’s because I don’t have anyone worth cooking for.” He huffs.
“Or you’re trying to impress her in hopes of getting her into your bed.” I narrow my gaze on him.
“Pretty sure we both know that isn’t going to happen. You had her claimed before she even got on your bike. Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I know you, Titus.”
“I haven’t claimed shit.” I balk at his accusation, though deep down I know he’s right.
I haven’t been able to think about anything but her since the moment she climbed onto the back of my motorcycle. The timing was shit. I had gotten a phone call from my sister a couple of hours before. She’d got into a pretty heated argument with our father and after her phone call I was fit to be tied. I may have walked away from all that shit years ago, but that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t bother me. That’s why I was out, trying to clear my head. And then boom, there she was.
It about killed me sleeping on the couch last night. Knowing that she was a few feet away, snuggled in my bed, under my sheets.
Needless to say, it’s the first time a girl has been in my bed and I wasn’t there right along with her.
“So then you won’t mind if she finds herself in my bed instead of yours.” Link’s comment brings me back to the present.
The thought of Link getting within five feet of Fallon boils my blood, and I don’t even know the fucking girl. Luckily for him, I know he’s only trying to rile me.
I don’t take the bait.
“Like you have a shot in hell with her,” I counter.
“I don’t know. She seemed pretty sweet on me this morning.”
“Probably because you told her she was welcome to stay. Don’t think I didn’t overhear your conversation this morning.”
“Eavesdropping, were you?”
“Not intentionally, but the fucking door was open. It was impossible not to hear you through the screen door. What the fuck were you thinking? Telling her she could stay.”
“You told her she could stay, too.”
“Only after you did. I had no intention of letting her stay until you went and fucking assured her that she could.”
I’m not a heartless fuck. I gave her refuge last night when she needed it. I assumed that would be enough. I don’t need any distractions right now. Especially those of a complicated female who, based on how I found her last night, is clearly going through some shit.
“Then why the fuck did you bring her here in the first place?” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“She was half naked with no shoes in the middle of nowhere. Not to mention she seemed scared out of her fucking mind. What was I supposed to do, leave her out there?” I grab a shop towel and wipe my hands on it, the vision of her standing in the middle of the road flashing through my mind.
Messy blonde curls. Stark blue eyes. Her see through bathing suit cover showing off her petite curves. In that moment she was probably the most beautiful fucking thing I had ever seen. But when I saw the fear in her expression everything shifted.
I didn’t really think, I acted. All I knew was that she needed my help and I had to help her.
“And the fact that she’s a bombshell had nothing to do with it.”
“It didn’t,” I insist, which I’m not entirely sure is true. Though I’d like to think I’m the kind of guy that would help anyone in that situation.
&nbs
p; “Sure.” He rolls his eyes. “You can pretend like you don’t notice, but we both know that girl in there is a prime piece of meat. And if I know you, Titus, and we both know I do, you’re not mad that I told her she could stay. You’re just worried you won’t be able to resist her if she does.”
“If you’re about done, I really need to get back to work.” I tap my foot impatiently against the concrete floor.
“Way to avoid admitting I’m right.” He scoffs.
“Out.” I point toward the door.
Link may be my best friend, but fuck if he doesn’t get under my skin sometimes. If he hadn’t become such a huge help with the influx of bikes I have coming in, I might be tempted to tell him to hit the fucking curb.
“I’m going. I’m going.” He holds up his hands, a smile playing on his lips as he backs out of the garage. “Maybe Fallon needs help washing her back.”
I narrow my eyes at him, causing laughter to bubble from his chest.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
With that, he turns and disappears outside, leaving me alone with a shit ton of work to get done and a certain young blonde stuck in my head.
“Fuck,” I grumble to myself, rubbing the back of my head.
When I moved out here a few years ago, I gave myself one very simple rule. No complications. And thus far I’ve lived by this code. Or at least I had. Now I can’t help but feel like I’ve opened the door to the real world and I’m not sure if I’m prepared for the chaos that is likely to ensue.
I may not know Fallon. Hell, I don’t know a single thing about her. But with one look it’s easy to see that she is the kind of girl that’s running from a lot more than whatever situation she found herself in last night. And you know what they say about people who run away? Eventually whatever they’re running from catches up to them. And I’m not sure I want to be anywhere near that situation when it happens.
Chapter Four
Fallon
My stomach is a ball of nervous energy as I push open the screen door and make my way out onto the front porch dressed in the gray jersey shorts and light pink t-shirt Titus picked up for me earlier. It’s not the most stylish outfit in the world, but it’s a hell of a lot better than what I was wearing this morning. He even picked me up a pair of flip flops which I thought was extremely thoughtful given that I have no shoes. They’re a little big but serve their purpose none the less.
I head down the three steps that lead to the sidewalk and slowly make my way around the side of the house. The afternoon heat feels heavy on my skin and I wish I had something to tie my hair back with.
The thought fades from my mind when I spot Titus exiting the large building behind the cabin, his white t-shirt grease stained and wet with sweat. The fabric is taut against his chest, showing off his defined muscles and the colorful splashes of ink beneath the thin material.
My stomach clenches.
He spots me almost immediately, sliding the large door closed before heading in my direction.
I tell myself to look anywhere but at him, except I can’t get my eyes to listen. They’re glued to Titus as if he were the most magnificent sight they had ever seen. Truthfully, he just might be.
Shaking off the thought, I plaster a smile on my face right as Titus reaches me.
“They fit.” He gestures to my outfit.
“They do. Thank you again.” I knot my hands nervously in front of me.
“It’s really no problem.” He shoves a chunk of hair out of his eyes.
“When I get my purse back I’ll reimburse you.” My cheeks heating slightly.
“That’s not necessary.” He shakes his head. “Let me change really quick and we’ll get on the road.”
“Okay,” I murmur, my nerves spiking again.
On one hand, I’m eager to get my things. It would be nice to have a little money. Thank goodness I withdrew some cash for the trip otherwise I’d be screwed. It’s not like I can use one of my dad’s credit cards if I plan to stay off his radar. And I’m sure I’ll need my I.D. at some point. Not to mention, my clothes, toothbrush, and other toiletries, all of which I’m desperately missing right about now. I’m not a huge fan of brushing my teeth with my finger or having to wear men’s deodorant.
On the other hand, there’s a chance Austin is still at the lake house and facing him is not something I have any desire to do. I also don’t want to face Christy. On the off chance she noticed my absence, I don’t want to have to explain to her what happened. I just want to get in, get my things, and get out of there as quickly as I possibly can.
“Ready?” I jump when Titus reappears a few moments later. Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t heard him exit the house.
“Ready.” I swallow past the tight knot in my throat and turn in his direction.
I assumed that we would be taking his motorcycle, so when he pulls open the door of an old black pickup parked next to the house I’m not sure if I’m more relieved or anxious.
At least on the bike we don’t have to talk. Not that I don’t want to talk to him, because I do. It’s just, well, he makes me so nervous and I have absolutely no idea why. Okay, that’s not entirely true.
He’s gorgeous and intimidating as hell. A combination that leaves me feeling more than a little off kilter. It would be different if he was like Link, who’s charismatic and easy to talk to.
Normally I have no problem making conversation. As a product of being a politician’s daughter, I can talk my way through just about any situation. But every time Titus enters a room it’s like my brain forgets how to work.
Trying to push past my nerves, I cross around to the passenger side of the truck and tug the door open. Titus is already inside when I slide onto the bench seat next to him, his dirty white tee having been swapped for a clean deep blue one.
I try to focus on my surroundings rather than the man next to me, looking around the cab of the truck. While the outside of the truck is worn and dirty, the inside is very well kept, showing barely any signs of wear and tear that you’d expect in an older vehicle like this one.
“No bike today?” I ask, needing to fill the silence.
“I figured it’d be easier this way. I wasn’t sure how much stuff you would be bringing back with you.”
I nod.
I hadn’t even considered that. Trying to hold onto a suitcase on the back of a motorcycle probably wouldn’t go over too well.
Titus fires the truck to life, the engine vibrating the seat beneath me. I snag the seatbelt and quickly strap it around myself as he pops the truck into gear and takes off down the long driveway.
The scenery looks different as we make the trip back toward Rocks Peak. Not that I got a very good look at it last night, considering it was dark when we arrived. Even still, with the sun shining brightly overhead the woods surrounding us look less ominous and scary than they did yesterday.
We drive several minutes in silence. The radio buzzes softly in the background, though it’s turned down too low for me to hear what’s playing.
I do my best to try and relax, but I find the further we drive the more tense I become.
“So, Link seems really nice,” I stupidly say when the need to break the silence becomes too overwhelming.
I’ve never done well in this type of situation. The silent, awkward kind. I’m used to talking, entertaining, creating conversation when neither party has anything they really want to say. To say I’m out of my comfort zone would be putting it mildly.
When he doesn’t say anything in response, I add, “He mentioned he’s lived with you for a few years. Were you two friends growing up?”
“Not exactly.” He blows out a heavy breath through his nose.
“Oh.” I’m not sure what else to say. “So then how did you two meet?”
“He stole from me.” His eyes remain on the road.
“He what?”
“He stole from me,” he reiterates. “Well, from my parents. He was running with the wrong crowd, found hims
elf in a pretty bad situation, and needed to come up with some money. I caught him sneaking out of their garage one night with a whole bunch of my dad’s tools and shit.”
“So then how did you two end up being friends? If someone stole from me the last thing I would do is be friends with that person.”
“I saw him for what he was, a scared kid who was looking for a way out. I guess you could say in that way he was a lot like me. I gave him some money to settle his debt, a place to stay, the rest is kind of history.”
“I thought he lived with his grandma?”
“He did. But she passed when he was seventeen, leaving him with two options: go into foster care or try to make it on his own.”
“I’m guessing he opted against foster care.”
“Wouldn’t you?” He throws me a sideways glance before his focus goes back to the road.
“So have you always lived out here?” I ask in hopes of keeping him talking. He has the most incredible voice. I don’t even care what he’s saying as long as he’s saying something.
“No, I moved here a few years back.”
“So where are you originally from?”
“Atlanta.”
“Atlanta?” I repeat his answer. “How did you go from Atlanta to the back hills of South Carolina?”
“Long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
He thinks on that for a moment before he seems to relax, the tension in his shoulders seeming to ease slightly.
“My family isn’t your average family.”
“I know the feeling,” I murmur, stiffening when his gaze shoots to me. “How so?” I quickly add.
“Let’s just say my parents care more about money and business than their own children. My upbringing was focused more on prepping me to take over the family business than anything else. Which, much to my father’s dismay, I had zero interest in doing. My grandfather, my mom’s dad, was the only one that treated me like an actual person rather than a chess piece.” His story sounds eerily familiar. “So, when he passed away and left me his old cabin in South Carolina, I knew it was his way of telling me to get out. To live my own life.” He pauses, once again glancing in my direction. “When I was old enough and had the means to do so without any financial support from my parents, I did just that. I walked away and I’ve never looked back.”
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