by Hope Collier
“Well, like I said, I’m headed east,” I explained. “I know I have a history of mudslinging and destruction, but you’re welcome to ride with me as long as you want.”
“If you’re comfortable, I’d really appreciate that. Riding the bike in the rain was getting tired anyway.” His dimples sank in.
I wasn’t sure the reasoning behind the offer but it felt right having Gabe around, and that wasn’t a feeling I was used to. I welcomed it without a second thought for what it could mean.
After we finished eating, Gabe excused himself to use the restroom. My eyes tarried on his figure as he walked away, the nagging familiarity still chewing away at my brain.
“He seems very special,” Lily spoke, startling me. “Sorry, sweetie.”
“You’re fine. I guess I was daydreaming.” I finished the last of my tea.
“Can’t say as I blame you.” Lily smiled as she sat the check on the table. “You guys be safe and have a great day.”
I lifted the tab as she walked away, and I frowned. It was almost blank. Lily hadn’t charged me for anything, she’d just written one sentence along the bottom. It read: The best things in life aren’t free … they’re priceless.
Gabe returned to find me mulling over the huge gesture scrawled onto an insignificant square of receipt. I discreetly tucked what should’ve been the price of our meal plus a hundred under the tab on the clipboard.
Gabe watched me for a second, like he’d somehow seen my kind gesture, and then motioned for me to lead the way out. I grinned as he opened the umbrella, and we stepped out into the downpour.
“Where exactly are you heading?” he asked as we hit the road.
A tidal wave of anxiety hit me. I ground my teeth together and tried to cover the flurry of despair and panic that simmered just below my composure.
“Umm, a funeral,” I managed to choke out in a betraying tone.
“Funeral?” Gabe’s voice sounded strained. He drew a deep breath. “Family?”
“Just a friend,” I answered, though I questioned whether or not it was misleading to call Charlie a friend. We weren’t even that close.
“A friend?” His expression darkened with remorse.
I couldn’t answer him.
“I apologize. I didn’t know.” Gabe shook his head and stared through the window, his mouth set in a hard line.
I bit down on my lip and focused on the highway.
“Are you from Arizona?” he asked, changing the subject.
“No, I live in Pasadena more often than not,” I said, relieved to talk about anything else. “I spent my first thirteen years in Louisiana. With the exception of the summers in New York, I’ve been in California since my freshman year of high school, studying at a private arts academy.”
“Why spend summers in New York?”
I hesitated. “Family. I go back home when I’m not in school.”
“You don’t like the east coast?” Gabe laced his fingers together and listened as if my life were somehow interesting.
“No, it’s fine. I just prefer sun and warmth. And Idyllwild, my art school, was a great place.” I shrugged. “It really helped me get ahead of the game.”
“That’s a lot of traveling. You must be serious about school. Will you go to college in California?”
“Well, I’m taking some time off for now.” It was a hollow and pitiful explanation, but I hoped he’d either assume I meant time off for summer break or drop the matter altogether. Fact of the matter, college demanded more effort than I cared to exert given the choice.
“So, you’re working then? What do you do?” Gabe turned his head, eyeing my discomfort. He almost seemed to enjoy it. I paused, trying to regain the lead of the conversation.
“I’ve been working in the social setting, you know? Trying to meet the right people and broaden my opportunities.” A.K.A. lame lingo for bumming it. It sounded ludicrous, even to me. “What do you do? Are you in school?”
Gabe’s hands curled into fists at his knees. “I’m in acquisitions.”
“You must’ve graduated early then,” I surmised. “What are you, like twenty-one?”
“You’re good,” Gabe said, wearing an awkward smile. “I was on the fast track through school, and then lucked out on this job.”
“What kind of things do you acquire?” I asked.
Gabe hesitated, his leg bouncing against the door. “It varies from time to time. Can you believe this rain?” he asked and made a show of staring out the window.
We filled several more hours with superficial chatter. I was cautious not to bring up topics that could lead to my family, and avoided the ones he flirted around. We talked about music — he found my distaste for country to be funny given that I grew up in the South.
“Classical?” He lifted a brow.
“I’m a fan of Bach and Debussy. Vivaldi is my favorite.” I grinned, hoping he didn’t think I was a nerd.
“I’ll bet you like poetry then, too?” His blue eyes danced as he smiled.
“Yeah. How did you know?” I quirked an eyebrow.
“‘Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, an abbot on an ambling pad,’” Gabe quoted.
“Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad or long-hair’d page in crimson clad, Goes by to tower’d Camelot; And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue. The knights come riding two and two. She hath no loyal knight and true…’”
“‘…the lady of Shalott,’” we concluded together.
I turned and faced him, my eyes narrowed.
“Why are you looking at me that way?” he questioned.
“You like poetry?” I asked, my focus falling on the helmet resting at his knee.
“Very much so. That just happens to be my favorite. I love how Tennyson’s words flow so effortlessly. He invokes true emotion with his work.”
“Tennyson is my favorite poet.” I glanced at him from the corner of my eye.
“You know what they say about great minds.” His dimples sank in. “Do you like the classics?”
“I do,” I said. “And Greek and Roman mythology. If I hadn’t gone into art, I would’ve chosen something literary related.”
Gabe watched me with curious eyes. A hint of amusement toyed around his mouth.
It was unbelievable that in all the years I’d spent traveling around world, the person I seemed to share a kinship with was a biker with a penchant for literary treasures who I ran across outside of Flagstaff, Arizona. It was almost comical. My lips turned up at the thought of what Kyle would say if he knew I’d picked Gabe up on the side of the road. My smile turned derisive when I imagined Kevin’s reaction.
What started out as a gloomy morning transformed into a stunning evening. The rain died away by the time we reached Amarillo. The horizon flaunted a striking display of color with running streamers of pink and purple throughout a canopy of blue. Wispy clouds filtered through the air, adding depth to the endless sky.
The shadow of a towering white hotel enveloped the car as we rolled into the parking lot. I climbed from behind the steering wheel, and Gabe gestured for me to go ahead inside while he gathered our luggage. Checking in, things went much smoother than in Arizona. I laughed to myself, recognizing the reason. I didn’t feel uptight and on edge; it was actually quite the opposite. It almost seemed wrong to feel so okay. Not only did it cause me a fair amount of guilt in the current circumstances, it confused me to no end.
Gabe made his way into the lobby with our things as I grabbed the keycards.
“I didn’t mean for you to pay for the room,” he grumbled.
“I’d be here regardless,” I said. “I don’t expect anything from you.”
Gabe sidled up beside me, and we rode the elevator to the top floor. Lifting the keycard from my pocket, I opened the door to the suite.
“Here, let me get those. You aren’t a pack mule, you know.” I smiled.
“You didn’t have to do this.” He frowned as he gazed around the lavish suite. “In fact, I wish you hadn’t. The least I can do is hel
p you with your things. Where do you want them?”
“Oh, I’ll take care of...” I began. Gabe ignored me and carried everything into my cattle baron inspired bedroom, situating my suitcases beside the dresser.
“Thanks again.” I reached forward to nudge him in the arm with my elbow.
“You’re welcome again.” Gabe mimicked the motion. His gaze held, and I lost myself in the blue-green sea of his eyes. There was a warmth there I’d never seen in anyone else. An invisible connection hummed between us like a current. My heartbeat picked up, bringing a twinge of guilt for the enjoyment I felt in the moment.
“I’m just going to find some blankets and take the couch.” His voice grew husky as he backed toward the door.
I rolled my eyes and scoffed. Did he actually believe that I planned to ditch him on the too-short loveseat? I walked back to the sitting room and opened the door against the wall housing the entertainment center. A spacious second bedroom appeared.
“Wow. You have expensive taste. This is too much.” He shook his head then pushed the hair from his eyes.
“No, it’s fine. Like I said, I’d be here regardless and still in the suite. I do have good taste ... in some stuff,” I murmured.
“Well, thanks again.” He smiled.
“Sure. G‘night.”
“Sleep well, Grace.” Gabe grinned and began toward his room.
I started to bed then turned on my heel. “Oh, I left my other bag in the car. I have to get my MP3 player. My Zune helps me get to sleep.”
“I’ll get for you,” Gabe offered.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll be right back.” I smiled and hurried for the front door before he offered again.
Gabe’s warm cedar and rain scent lingered in the elevator, wiping my mind of coherent thought. I was downstairs and halfway across the parking lot before I realized my keys were still inside.
“Really bright, Ashton,” I fussed. “Geez. One gorgeous guy shouldn’t make your brain stop working.”
“They say I have that affect on women,” a deep voice purred behind me as a rough hand swept around my throat.
Impulse pulled my eyes toward him.
“Don’t even try it,” he ordered and yanked my chin forward. My back slammed into his chest with enough force to knock the wind out me. The heat from his body bled through my clothing like a furnace. Sweat prickled and trailed down my skin as my heart battered against my ribcage. I tried to think over the panic — to remember how to escape an attacker — but the overflow of adrenaline did nothing more than make me lightheaded.
I choked and clawed at the fingers around my neck.
“Stop fighting,” he growled and pinned my arms down with his free hand.
Tears flooded my eyes as he lifted me up until only the balls of my feet touched the ground. Air wheezed through my tight windpipe. My eyes felt like they were about to explode from the pressure on my carotid.
“Behave and we’ll have some fun.” He laughed once. “Now, walk backwards and don’t turn around.”
My footsteps faltered. A hollow ringing filled my ears, and dots floated in front of my eyes.
“Move,” he demanded. The hotel swam in and out of focus as he dragged me in the opposite direction.
“Hey!” Gabe’s voice echoed from across the parking lot.
My assailant growled under his breath. I strained through the black spots to see a figure moving toward us. Two blue reflections twinkled in the distance. It looked like an animal blinking in headlights.
The blazing fingers tightened around my throat. Tears spilled down my face as I braced myself for what followed next. Without warning, the hand loosened and fell away. Wiping my eyes, I stumbled in blind panic toward the figure from the shadows. Somewhere behind me, heavy footsteps retreated into the dark.
“Ashton?” Gabe gasped. I fell into him, trembling as his arms wound around me and lifted me up. “Are you hurt?”
His arms tightened as my strength give way.
“No,” I panted, trying to fill the lungs that burned with need for air.
“Come on,” he muttered blackly. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
Gabe’s eyes scanned the parking lot as we hurried back inside.
“Here, sit down and I’ll get you something to drink.” He led me to the sofa in our room.
“No! Please, don’t leave me.” I clung to his arm.
The cushion gave way as Gabe eased beside me. I curled into his side, breathing in his comforting scent, and tried not to cry. He wrapped his arms around me, a tentative hand sliding along my back.
“Shh,” he soothed, his voice strained. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”
“Sorry.” I sniffled, feeling weak and vulnerable. “I don’t know why I’m shaking.”
“Someone attacked you.” He backed away but kept one hand around mine. “You’re experiencing an excess of adrenaline. Your body will calm down in a minute.”
I nodded and drew a tremulous breath.
“Did he say what he wanted?” Gabe’s voice became low, tight.
“He didn’t say much at all.” My breathing hitched. “I can only imagine what he wanted.”
Gabe held his breath for a moment, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his hand into a fist. “And you have no idea why he came for you?”
I shook my head. “I must have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why? Do you think it was something more?”
“No. You’re probably right. I’m just relieved I followed you down.” Gabe raised my chin and grimaced as he saw my neck.
“What is it?” I asked.
He lifted a silver tray off the side table and held it at eyelevel so I could see the reflection. My fingers moved to the skin below my jaw. Another handprint.
The room radiated with fury. Gabe’s expression darkened as he caught the hand at my throat and held my arm out. His gaze lingered on the fading mark there, his turquoise eyes burning with resentment. Like so many times before, I tried to hide the result of a quick-tempered boyfriend.
“These aren’t men,” he murmured with disgust. His gaze softened as tears prickled in the corner of my eyes.
“Could you … would you mind sleeping in my room tonight?” I whispered.
“Sure.” He gave me a tight smile. “I’ll make up a spot on the floor.” Gabe stood and went to his room. He carried some pillows and a blanket into my room and made a pallet on the carpet beside the bed.
“Come on.” Gabe helped me to my feet and into my room. I collapsed on the bed, and he tucked me in, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead.
“What were you doing out there?” I slurred, exhaustion finally catching up with me.
“You left your keys on the counter,” he whispered.
“Lucky me, I guess.” My voice faded. “Thank you for saving me…”
I drifted off but not before I thought I heard, “I’ll not fail you again.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Discovery
Last night’s emotions hung heavy in the air. My stomach rolled like the ocean. I chugged a glass of water and grabbed my luggage by the night stand. Gabe’s muscular silhouette held my attention as he leaned against the door to the patio. He turned and smiled when I wandered into the living room. Serenity enveloped me. Had I not been at ease it would’ve bothered me that he had such control over the rhythm of my heart.
“Good morning.” Gabe weighed my expression. “How are you feeling?”
“Never better.” I smiled. “You?”
“Glad you’re okay.” He returned my smile, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Yup. Let’s hit the road.”
My fingers tapped the beat of the song on the radio while we drove east. Gabe’s glance caught my attention. Again.
“What is it?” I looked at him then back to the highway.
“I know it’s none of my business, and feel free to tell me so, but can I ask a favor of you?” he asked.
“After las
t night, you can ask anything.”
“Would you mind to not go off alone? Only for a while,” he said. “I just need to know you’re safe.”
“Yeah, that’s not a problem.” I smiled. “Thank you again, by the way. If you hadn’t been there…” I shook my head at the same time Gabe did.
He offered a genuine smile — likely relieved that I’d consented without throwing a Miss Independent fit.
“Gabe, my dad has a lake house in central Texas. If you don’t have any objections, I’d planned on stopping by. I’ve never been there, and since it’s sort of on the way, I thought it might be a good time.” I left out the fact that Charlie had previously forbidden me to go there.
“Central Texas?” Gabe’s shoulders tensed. “Sure, that sounds fine.”
He drew a deep breath and toyed with a brown leather cord around his neck, looping it around his finger at the smooth skin at his collarbone.
I stared through the windshield, wondering for the thousandth time why Charlie had forbidden it in the first place. This had the potential to be a very difficult experience: my father’s restriction of visiting, the fact that it was my mother’s home, so to speak. It had emotional disaster written all over it. Anxiety knotted in my stomach, and I worked to smooth the worry lines across my forehead.
Gabe stared idly at the nothing of the sprawling desert. I suppose the brown sparseness was beautiful in its own monotonous kind of way. Still, I preferred a more dimensional landscape. It felt too open in the desert, like I was somehow more exposed to being hit by a falling meteor or an earthbound satellite.
“So, where are you from exactly?” I asked.
His eyebrows creased in thought. “I’ve lived here and there.”
“You don’t have a home?” My words sounded sadder than I would’ve expected.
“A house isn’t the only place you can have a home.” He gave a half-hearted smile.
That began the wheels turning in my mind again. I didn’t exactly understand his meaning, but on the other hand, I suppose I understood perfectly. Even though I had access to a half-dozen houses across the world, I never felt like I had that special place where I felt safe and loved. The place that I could always run to when the world became too much for me. Not now anyway — not now especially. My heart ached realizing I needed that haven — that place where I felt safe and loved. It had been missing all of these years, but I’d refused to see it.