by London Casey
Zayne didn’t give me an inch to breathe as he got one for me.
It was hotter between us than it was outside.
And that was serious trouble.
4
ZAYNE
Robby showed up in his greasy, sweaty shirt, a thick cigar in his mouth, and took a look at the situation. He surveyed the scene and didn’t get to work until he took the cigar out of his mouth and balanced it on the side of the tow truck. To him, he was a surgeon in that moment, working with precision to not damage the broken-down car.
He hooked the car and with the press of a button, the front of the car lifted up and pulled toward the truck. Robby stood with one leg up, eyes wide, like he was a five year old kid seeing a dump truck for the first time.
Once he got the car where he wanted it, he stopped, looked at me with a nod, and told me I could meet him at the garage.
We shook hands and he climbed into the truck and drove off with a puff of diesel exhaust.
That’s when I looked at Bella.
She had no ride. Except me.
How fucking crazy my day turned out to be.
This woman was on the run. I wasn’t a damn fool, but when she took two bags out of the trunk of the car, I knew what was going on. I knew what it was like to pack some shit in a fury and get out of a situation. Not to mention she already said she had no destination.
Her bags on the side of the road where her car used to be. She just stood there, without a care. She was probably terrified on the inside but didn’t want to show it to me.
“I’ll give you a ride into town,” I said.
“On the back of a motorcycle?” Bella asked.
“Unless you want to walk, darlin’.”
“I have bags.”
“A woman with baggage,” I said. “That’s actually my specialty.”
“That’s so funny,” Bella said with a scowl. “Seriously.”
“I’m being serious,” I said. “You either ride or walk. It’s your damn choice. I did my part here.”
“Your part?” she asked. “So, what, you’re some kind of hero?”
“What was your plan then?”
Bella raised an eyebrow. “You do realize I have a cell phone, right? I could have called anyone for help.”
“But you didn’t,” I said, stepping closer to her. “You sat on the hood of your car, crying. Now, I haven’t asked a damn thing about that. I’m just trying to help.”
She stared at me. She looked like she wanted to slap me. Which she could do. I wouldn’t give a damn. Although, slapping me wouldn’t fix a thing for her. She’d still be lost. Her car would still be broken down.
“I don’t even know where I’m going,” she confessed. “Even if my car was working.”
“Sounds like you need a ride more than ever,” I said.
I wasn’t exactly sure what that comment was supposed to imply.
I stepped back and patted the seat of my motorcycle. I grabbed my black bucket helmet and held it out to her. She took it and smelled it.
I raised an eyebrow. “Smelling my helmet? What does it smell like?”
“A greasy, sweaty head.”
“Yup, that’s definitely mine,” I said.
She put the helmet on her head and buckled the strap. She looked killer cute wearing it, too. Complete with her light blue shirt that pulled tight in all the right places. The curve of her hips making it so the shirt didn’t cover up all her skin. Fuck, she had something natural about her. Something I liked. And she was hiding shit. I could appreciate a good secret here and there. It left you vulnerable and hidden, but willing to do what it took to survive. It also kept commitment off the table. That was a great thing, too.
The only thing I was committed to were the people that paid to have me put ink on their body. And my commitment to drinking warm whiskey and ice cold beer.
I climbed on my ride and Bella got behind me. She had her bags balanced on her shoulders. Thankfully they weren’t fucking suitcases or huge bags or else she would have been screwed. She slid her hands around to my front. Her hands clung so tight to my shirt she was clawing at my stomach.
“You know, if you’re going to claw my stomach like that, we could at least be naked,” I called out.
She released her hold with a gasp. “So you’re an asshole?”
“Yup,” I said.
I started the motorcycle so she couldn’t reply.
Then I took off.
She kept her fierce grip on me. I could easily tell she had never been on a motorcycle before. That intrigued me even more about this pretty stranger who had her bags packed and her car broken down.
I rode my way back into town and took her to Gonzo’s garage.
It was a small, sort of rundown place. But that’s how things were in Hundred Falls Valley. It was a small town where everyone relied on each other and worked together to keep things moving forward in life. It always struck me as odd that Tate opened St. Skin there, but if it worked for him, then whatever.
I pulled into the lot and stopped. I turned off the motorcycle. Bella was quick to jump off. I grabbed for her wrist.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked. “You’re all jumpy and shit.”
“I don’t know who you are,” she said. “I don’t know where I am. And my car is fucked.”
I nodded. “Tell you what. You take a breather here. Let me go talk to Gonzo. See what’s going on. Okay? For the record, you’re in Hundred Falls Valley. Nothing bad is going to happen here today, tomorrow, or to you. People in this town are generally quiet, except if you take someone’s spot for the Halloween parade. As for me, I’m just trying to help you out for a second. That’s it.”
She nodded but she didn’t smile.
“I got your back, darlin’,” I said.
I got your back?
I groaned in my head.
What the fuck was I really doing here? Bella needed to get her ass a ride home, wherever that was. I had no business messing around with her or whatever situation she was in, but I couldn’t help myself. Maybe I should have taken Tate’s advice and just gone to the strip club. The day would have been so much easier with some mostly naked woman rubbing on me, all on Tate’s dime.
I ran a hand through my hair and growled as I went around the garage to the back lot. That’s where Gonzo kept cars and had his own personal junkyard. You think junkyard and think mess, but not with Gonzo. He kept things organized and knew everything he had and there was a purpose for everything he had.
Robby had Bella’s car off the tow truck and was already driving away. Gonzo had the hood popped up in seconds and was leaning forward, looking at it. I gave a quick whistle and Gonzo popped up his head back up and around. He pointed at me and gave me a big smile.
We skipped the handshakes and went for a hug.
Gonzo was a good man. He’d lost his wife and kept himself busy at the garage, coaching soccer in town, and anything else to pass the time.
We broke the hug and Gonzo grabbed my arm. I was much taller than him and built bigger but he had a fucking grip that could take down even the strongest man in the world. All those years holding and cranking a wrench did the trick.
I looked over at Bella’s car, hood up, and gave a nod. “What do we have?”
“Could be much worse,” Gonzo said.
“You know what’s wrong already?”
“That I do.”
I opened my mouth to question him, but it was fucking Gonzo. Of course he knew. He didn’t have to touch a vehicle sometimes to know what was wrong with it.
“You can fix this?” I asked.
“That I can,” he said with a laugh.
“How long?”
“Not that long at all,” Gonzo said.
I nodded. That was a good thing. I looked through the open garage bays and saw Bella pacing back and forth. She was now biting the nails on her left hand. Her mind was obviously racing a hundred miles an hour and it probably wasn’t all to do with her car.
Even stil
l… damn, there was just something about her.
Hidden. Secretive. Pretty. Sexy.
She captured my full attention.
And that’s when I thought about the fucking wedding invitation again. Just sitting in a drawer like a hidden scar. Something that itched at me that I couldn’t stop picking until it hurt again. Those goddamn gold colored words written in fancy-ass cursive.
I curled my lip.
“Can you do me a favor, Gonzo?” I asked.
“Anything for you, Zayne.”
“Forget about the car.”
“What?”
I looked at Gonzo. “Forget about the car. Park it and leave it. Go work on other stuff. Put it at the end of the line.”
“Zayne…”
“Just give me a day or two,” I said.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t get it….” Gonzo said.
I looked to my left again, right at Bella.
“I don’t get it either, Gonzo. Just forget about the car, okay?”
“Who is she, Zayne?”
“I’m not exactly sure yet. But I’m going to find out.”
I just kept staring. My thoughts racing. Two people. Two strangers. Two of us running and hiding from some hurtful shit.
Bella finally stopped pacing and looked at me.
We were a few hundred feet apart, if not more.
But our eyes locked and even from a distance there was something.
I nodded.
That was the moment I came up with a crazy plan.
5
ZAYNE
I opened the door to my apartment and nodded for Bella to go inside. I had a bag on each shoulder, a reminder that she really had thrown anything she could get into the bags. It was a wonder how she managed to stay on the back of my motorcycle with these bags on her back. That explained why she had no choice but to dig her nails so hard into my stomach during the ride to Gonzo’s.
I walked the bags to the living room and dropped them on the floor.
“Make yourself at home,” I said. “Beer is in the fridge. Whiskey in the cabinet.”
“Food?”
“Takeout menus are in the drawer right next to the fridge,” I said.
I saw Bella look at the clock on the microwave. She frowned and sighed.
The hours really had ticked by since I first pulled up behind her car. We were well into the afternoon, closing in on the evening now.
“And the guy said at least a day?” she asked me.
“Yeah,” I lied. “I don’t know a thing about cars, darlin’. But I trust Gonzo. He’s the best. I mean, you want to get it towed somewhere else? That’s up to you. It’s kind of late now.”
“So I guess I’m staying here tonight?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Not the first time I’ll sleep on a stranger’s couch,” she said.
“I’m not sure what that means,” I said. “But I’d like to hear that story. You’re not sleeping on a couch, though. Follow me.”
I grabbed the bags off the floor again and led the way down the hallway. I pointed to the bathroom, the closet, and then the door to the left was the spare bedroom. I didn’t fucking need a spare bedroom, but it was there. When I took the two-bedroom place it was supposed to just be temporary. Kind of like my staying at St. Skin. But each month, on the first of the month, there I was cutting a check for the apartment for another month of living. And there I was walking into St. Skin to ink up some more people.
“Not much of a room,” I said. “I don’t do the whole decorating thing. But there’s a bed. A dresser. If you need anything else, let me know.”
I tossed the bags to the bed and they bounced.
Then I looked at Bella.
My plan came back to me in a rush. It was seriously crazy. But it could work. If I could just get Bella to open a little to me and tell me why the hell she was on the run, I could make this work. Because if she was hurt like I thought then she could be the one person to understand what I was going through and what I needed from her.
“I know this isn’t what you had planned for the day,” I said. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s not your fault, Zayne.”
Well, darlin’, it is a little. Gonzo could have your ass on the road really soon. But I’m being greedy.
“Right,” I said. “Well, dinner’s on me. You pick.”
“I’m good with whatever you want.”
I opened my mouth and stopped.
Are we going to do this? The whole you-pick-no-you-pick thing.
That’s what couples do. That’s what… we used to do.
“Sounds good,” I said. “I’ll order something.”
I had to get out of the bedroom. It felt smaller. I felt crammed in there with Bella. My own doing and I sort of regretted it already. What the fuck was I thinking?
I moved toward the door and Bella grabbed for my hand.
Her soft little fingers sliding against my palm. My hand instantly closed shut, grabbing her fingers.
I turned my head and she was right there.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I mean, for all of this. I’m a little lost, Zayne. I can say that to you. I don’t want to be in your way here or anything.”
“You’re not in my way,” I said. “I’ll get us some chow.”
“Hey,” she said. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”
“A shower?” I asked. “No. Not at all.”
“I guess if I’m staying here, I should settle in a little.”
“Sure,” I said. “Have at it.”
I got the hell out of the room.
I walked to the kitchen and opened the drawer with the menus inside. I took a handful and spread them across the counter like a hand of poker. The choices were… pizza. The town was known for pizza and subs. Not that there was a thing wrong with that.
Instead of figuring out what to actually get, I glanced over my shoulder and looked at the hallway.
I pushed away from the counter and worked my way to the hallway. I could hear the shower running. The rushing water through the pipes echoing in the walls and the hallway. I stood there for a few seconds, thinking about what was happening. Bella was in my bathroom, in my shower, naked. I thought about all those little hints of skin and curves I saw and thought about her hair soaking wet. Dipping her head back into the water, letting out a long breath, washing away the day.
It made me grit my teeth.
I went into my bedroom and went right to the top left drawer of my dresser. I shuffled through mix-matched socks and found the wedding invitation. I took it out of the drawer and stepped back and sat on my bed. There hadn’t been a day or night that went by without me looking at the damn thing. It was pathetic and I kept it close to my chest. I didn’t need anyone giving me bullshit for it. The macho, tough guy thing would tell me to just throw it out. Rip it up. Piss on it. The outlaw thing would be to reply or maybe swing by the fucking wedding with a little message of my own. But the honest thing… I just kept looking at it.
I couldn’t figure out what she was doing or why. All this time I thought things would just fade out but the urge to get some kind of revenge wouldn’t go away. Over my shoulder I could hear the water still running in the bathroom. The apartment was far from luxurious. It was the first place I could grab after all hell broke loose and I just settled in for a little while.
I put the wedding invitation back into the drawer and slammed it shut. What I was thinking was crazy. It was stupid. The right thing to do would be to call Gonzo and tell him get the damn car fixed and then I could get Bella the hell out of my apartment, my town, and my life. But she was on the run and had what she felt was a good reason to do that.
“Well, now you can hide, darlin’,” I whispered as I left the bedroom.
I wanted the story from her and maybe that was greedy of me to want. But if I had her story, mine could make more sense.
Back in the kitchen I ordered
pizza and then grabbed my leather bag and opened it, dumping a couple notebooks onto the table. I turned the chair around and straddled it, quickly reaching for a pencil and wanting to get some sketching ideas down on paper. I had this vision of a half sleeve - shoulder down to the elbow. At the elbow it was solid all the way round and then going up it would look like a horizon. Giving way to roads, clocks, birds. Symbolizing freedom, time, death. All these powerful forces forever colliding together.
It was a way for me to kill time while I waited for Bella to finish up in the shower. I didn’t want to get too close to her right then. Something about her oozed with the possibility of addiction. That kind of temptation never ended in a good situation.
I finished a quick sketch and then nodded at it. It was pretty good stuff. I liked having a notebook of ideas. Just in case I got someone that came into the shop and wasn’t exactly sure what they wanted. They’d have ideas or printouts from the internet, but I always tried to find my own touch when it came to inking someone.
“Hey, Zayne?” a voice called out.
I looked up and saw nobody there.
I blinked and shook my head.
“Bella?” I called out.
“Zayne?”
I stood and walked through the apartment. When I got to the end of the hallway I saw her standing with her head poking out of the bathroom. Her hair was dark from being soaking wet. Thick clumps sticking to her bare shoulder. The rest dangling, dripping water all over the carpet. I didn’t give a fuck about the carpet.
I stood there trying not to go wide eyed.
She was beautiful.
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” I managed to ask.
“I don’t have a towel,” she said.
Why don’t you come walking out of there and get one?
The outlaw in me wanted to kick the door out of the way and chase away both our demons. But I made fists and swallowed it all down.
I pointed to the closet across from the bathroom. “Towels are in there. I’ll get you one.”
“Thanks,” she said.
She disappeared back into the bathroom.
I looked down at the carpet to the obvious wet spots.
I gritted my teeth as I opened the closet door.
I had no idea what I was trying to prove or what I was trying to do.
But I seemed to never be able to get away from trouble.