Lonely Rider
PERCY
by Melissa Devenport
♥
Table of Contents:
Chapter 01 - A Getaway
Chapter 02 - Margaritas
Chapter 03 - Stare If You Want
Chapter 04 - The Perfect Night For Regrets
Chapter 05 - The Blackout
Chapter 06 - A Wounded Man
Chapter 07 - The Name Of An Angel
Chapter 08 - Not Back To Normal
Chapter 09 - Scars
Chapter 10 - Sweet But Not Gentle
Chapter 11 - A Stone Heart
Chapter 12 - Enjoy The Moment
Chapter 13 - Coffee And The Truth
Chapter 14 - A Number
Chapter 15 - A Plea For Help
Chapter 16 - A Shattered Heart
Chapter 17 - An Old Friend
Chapter 18 - Out Of The Darkness
Chapter 19 - Coming Home
Epilogue - Their Treasure
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Lonely Rider
PERCY
Written by Melissa Devenport
Published by Perfect Harmony Publications
© 2018 Perfect Harmony Publications
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission in writing from the publisher.
Chapter 1
A Getaway
Shanna
The little guest house cottage was quaint. It was nestled in the backyard, which bordered a small private beach and endless ocean, and it was just about perfect.
It was windy, but the breeze did little to cool the sweat beading on Shanna Phillip’s brow. It was her first trip to Mexico. She’d always said she didn’t like the heat. Always said it was too dangerous. Always made this or that excuse to keep from going. To keep from living her life.
“It’s so good to have you here. What do you think of the place?”
Shanna turned to her right and smiled back at the lady she was renting the guest house from for the week. It beat paying resort prices. Basically, she needed the getaway and it was cheaper to go down to Mexico for a week than it was to just do a staycation. Not that she wanted to stay in Cincinnati. No, she most certainly did not want to stay wherever Bill was.
Shanna turned her crystal blue eyes to the little white guesthouse. The paint was fresh, even if the siding itself looked older. The beach wasn’t the traditional white sand that the Caribbean side promised, but it was beautiful all the same. The water wasn’t that tropical green either. The wind kicked it into a dark blue and small whitecaps washed up on shore, pulling a silvery wet path back to the ocean. Is that water warm or cold? Would it feel nice to dip my feet in? She breathed in and filled her lungs with the salty fresh air.
Suddenly, she remembered that Mrs. Lewis had been talking to her. She spun around, color flaring in her too pale cheeks. “Sorry. You caught me daydreaming. It’s beautiful. Really. I love it.”
“Good.” Mrs. Lewis held out a key with a little white plastic square attached. Shanna took it. In sharpie, was written, guest house. The letters were small and neat.
The elderly lady smiled at her. She was the kind of woman who was always pretty, no matter her age. She had that classic beauty look, the kind that radiates from within and somehow the wrinkles and the age spots never seemed to touch it. White hair trailed down her back. She wasn’t tall, but she wasn’t short either. She was on the thin side, trim and in shape. She probably swam every single morning in that strip of ocean right in front of her house.
“How did you get lucky enough to get such a beautiful property?” Shanna didn’t miss the flash of pain in the older woman’s eyes. “You don’t have to answer that. I’m sorry, everyone always says I’m too nosy.”
Mrs. Lewis actually smiled. It made her face go from pretty to absolutely beautiful. There was something youthful about her, even her wrinkles. Maybe it was her sparkling green eyes. They were far too bright to belong in an eighty-six year old woman. “Tom and I bought this place nearly forty years ago. He did most of the work. Fixed it up. Built this guest house himself for when our kids came to visit. It’s hard to believe I have great grandchildren now and they are going to be old enough to visit soon. On their own. Their parents always seem too busy to bring them and I’m not much for traveling anymore.”
Shanna barely choked back the urge to say she understood. She didn’t. How could she? She was thirty years old and currently single, compliments of her cheating ex-fiancé.
“What brings you to Mexico? Is this your first time visiting?” Mrs. Lewis was just trying to be nice. She had no idea the internal havoc her question created.
“Oh. Well- that’s a long story.”
“I can make us a cup of coffee, if you want to sit down and chat with an old woman. If you’re in a hurry to see the town or get in the water though, or sunbathe, I understand. You’re on vacation.”
“No, no,” Shanna assured her. “A cup of coffee would be great. I think it’s just the thing for the jetlag. My flight left at six so I was at the airport at four this morning. It’s only the middle of the afternoon, but I feel like I’m running on empty.”
“Of course. Yes, that’s what I was talking about. I’m terrible traveling. I just get so exhausted and I feel, at this age, that I never fully recover. And when I go, I always saw myself as a burden on my kids and grandkids. Like having me there interrupted their lives so much.”
“That’s too bad.”
Mrs. Lewis winked at her. “I much prefer when they come down here. That way, every day is a party.”
“Oh?” Shanna laughed.
“This is Mexico. Everyone always seems to be in party mode. At least, everyone who comes here. They’re on vacation. They want to have a good time. I feel like even if people come here angry or sad or drained, they leave here happy. It’s the ocean. It’s the air. It’s the sun.”
“I always thought it was the booze.”
Mrs. Lewis let out a sharp burst of laughter that was far more aptly termed a cackle. She didn’t lead the way to her house, which was much bigger, with matching white siding and lovely flowers and trees that Shanna didn’t know the names of. Instead she chose to walk down to the guest house. She pushed the door open, which wasn’t locked.
It was warm and cozy inside. It was one of those buildings that was definitely larger on the inside than it looked from the outside. There was a larger bedroom at the back, a small bathroom and then an open living room and kitchen area. The walls were painted white and the floors were tile, done in that classic beachy orange. The furniture was simple. There was a wicker set in the living room, a couch and two chairs, that didn’t look entirely comfortable, but they were pretty and matched the beachy theme.
Mrs. Lewis moved about the kitchen efficiently. She had coffee brewing and a mug set in front of Shanna in no time at all. They sat down at the tiny kitchen table. It was a small wood rectangle with two matching chairs, painted gray.
“So, are you going to tell an old woman your long story? Keep in mind, your secrets are safe with me. Not because I’d tell anyone, but because I likely won’t remember much more than your name come tomorrow morning.” Mrs. Lewis grinned and pointed to her forehead. “The old brain isn’t what she used to be.”
Shanna laughed even though she had the distinct impression that Mrs. Lewis was sharp as a tack and would no doubt remember everything. “
Well… okay. Here it goes. But don’t laugh at me. Or, no, that’s okay. Do laugh. It’s pretty ridiculous.”
“I can’t wait. Nothing beats a ridiculous story. I don’t get enough wild, exciting people this way anymore.”
“You’re not serving enough tequila then.”
Mrs. Lewis grinned. “You’re right. I don’t want people getting wasted and going out into the ocean and drowning on my beach.”
“I never thought of that. The urge to swim when drunk. It seems like a bad idea to me, but then again, inebriation probably makes for a whole host of bad ideas.”
The older woman cackled again and Shanna found herself relaxing. Mrs. Lewis, who hadn’t offered a less formal name, was easy to know and like. She was sweet fun, the kind of woman anyone would be lucky to have as their grandma.
“I’ve seen my fair share over the years,” she admitted.
“Okay, well, here it goes. The long story. I once had this friend. He was a really good friend. He had a condo that had this stupid fire escape on the side of it. It was an ancient building, this huge brick thing, so the fire escape was really old. It probably wasn’t even legal anymore. These kids, hooligans I guess people would say, used to climb up the fire escape and get onto the roof. My friend’s condo was one of those weird styles that has a window right on the roof. Not a skylight, but a walk out thing that he could actually go up there too.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“It would have been, but this guy wasn’t really- uh- that capable. He was tall and thin, probably weighed all of a hundred pounds. He was single, though not really by choice. He was just one of those hard to get to know people that you kind of have to be friends with first to appreciate. I met him through work and thought he was really creepy at first, but then I got to know him and I found out how awesome his sense of humor was. He had this really dry, sarcastic tone all the time.”
“Wittiness is a very attractive quality. Or maybe not attractive, but definitely desirable.”
“I agree with you on that one.” Shanna grinned. It was nice to sit back and think about friends she’d since left in the past. They’d maintained contact on and off for a few years, but then it seemed it was just hard to keep up with it and make the effort when life got so busy. “It’s one of my real regrets that we didn’t keep in contact after a few years. I quit working there and Ron was the worst at emailing. He isn’t on any social media sites either.”
“Even I’m on there!” Mrs. Lewis hooted. “Oh lord, if I can do it, he could certainly do it.”
“I think it’s more by choice. Anyway, I don’t have a current email or a number. I think he changed jobs, but I’m not sure where he went. He’s one of those people that kind of just got lost in the past. I miss him sometimes, but the whole communication thing is a two way street. I’m easy to find, if he wanted to.”
“Life is kind of like that. We meet people and they do become a part of the past, but we still have all these great memories.”
Shanna nodded. “Yes. That’s for sure. Anyway, so these kids would cause trouble up there. They’d look into Ron’s window and pretty much terrorize him.”
“Sounds awful. Did he ever call the police?”
“Once, but then those kids defaced the building with spray paint. He just left it alone after thought. He bought a set of black out curtains, but he always knew when they were up there. He could hear their voices and their footsteps.”
“That would be annoying.”
“It was. It scared him too. He used to tell me he thought they’d try and break in sometime and he wasn’t sure what they’d do to him if they did.”
“That would be terrifying.”
“Yes. So here’s why I’m telling you all of this. He once told me that he’d put on the kettle at night. He’d boil it and keep it hot. When it cooled down he’d boil it again. He kept up with that the whole time, until the kids left. I asked him what he’d do with it and he said he’d throw it at them, the boiling water, if they ever broke in. I think this might have been a bullshit story to make me laugh. I don’t know. With Ron, anything was possible.”
“Sounds like a good laugh at any rate.”
“He also told me that if he ever got married to someone he didn’t like in the end, he wouldn’t get a divorce. That’s too expensive. He told me he would just salt their food constantly so that they’d eventually die of hypertension.”
Mrs. Lewis cackled away in her chair. “It’s too bad you don’t still stay in contact. Your friend sounds like a riot.”
A riot. Shanna laughed as well. It had been a long time since she heard that term. Even just the use of it made her smile. “So, why I’m in Mexico… well, in short, my fiancé, we’d been together for three years, was cheating on me.”
“No!”
“Yup. He had this other woman. She ended up calling me and telling me. She didn’t know about me and when she found out, she was so angry with him that she exposed him. So he lost us both in the end.”
“Sounds like you’re better off without him.”
“I guess I am. Or at least I’ll think that one day, but right now, it’s still pretty fresh.”
“Of course. I’m sorry.”
“No, that’s alright.” She smiled, a smile she tried to make sure she felt. “Anyway, so I found out about Bill cheating. I was actually in the kitchen at the time and for some reason it just popped into my head, about the kettle and Ron. I picked the thing up. It was empty, but it was also metal, and I hurled it at his head. It hit him square in the forehead. Nearly knocked him out. He called the cops and even though he didn’t end up pressing charges, it was a bad scene. He had a wicked welt and bruise there for a few days.”
“That must have been completely satisfying.” Mrs. Lewis was trying really hard not to laugh.
“It was. So fucking satisfying. I mean, sorry. I try not to swear so much.”
“That’s alright, honey. Sometimes nothing else works.”
“I wish my mom could understand that. Even after she found out Bill was cheating on me, she told me that I should try and work things out. She’s the kind of person who says marriage isn’t about the sex. It’s about staying together through thick and thin.”
Mrs. Lewis’ pretty sea swept green eyes twinkled. “Oh, my dear. Marriage is definitely about keeping that spark alive. John… well…” she trailed off. It was evident that she’d loved her husband a lot, but also that they had the kind of marriage that most people dream of. The kind where it doesn’t just last, but the love stays alive.
“It’s better that you left. It’s better that you came to Mexico. A lot of people come down here for a fresh start. John and I came to retire and we never left. For us, it was paradise.”
“Paradise,” Shanna said wistfully. “I like the sound of that.”
Chapter 2
Margaritas
Shanna
It just so happened that Mrs. Lewis was lucky enough to live within a five-minute walk of a sweet little coastal beachy bar. Located on a touristy street that extended almost to yet another beach, it was the epitome of what people thought about Mexican bars. Thatched roof, pink stucco exterior, palm trees, beach front, tropical breezes and the ocean crashing in the distance. Inside there were round tables with bar stools tucked up underneath, huge fans overhead, open beams, a huge bar with a stainless steel countertop, TV’s on in the background, tiled floor, pictures on the walls.
It was the kind of place where people could sit and drink and just forget about the past. The kind of place where the large windows overlooking the ocean and the salty air that drifted inside through the open windows could wash every single care and worry away. Or drown it out. In copious amounts of tequila or Mexican beer.
It was late. After an enjoyable chat with Mrs. Lewis and a much needed nap, Shanna woke with energy to spare. She was restless so she took a walk and that led her to the touristy area, down the street past shops and a few houses, and eventually to the bar. She decided to go in
and even though she’d wanted just one drink, she found herself on her third margarita. They were deceptively potent, the taste of the tequila masked well, and she found herself thinking less and less of Bill and more about how the bar was becoming blurry and starting to spin.
She’d never been the kind of person who would just go out on her own. She always had friends or at the very least, acquaintances to tag along with.
At thirty, freshly single, her engagement broken, forced to start over, her shit piled up in a storage unit back in Cincinnati, her suitcase in her mother’s spare bedroom, she figured it was time she actually started living. If that included having a few too many drinks and staring out the window aimlessly, enjoying the sight of the water, then so be it.
What was remaining of the daylight quickly faded. Two more margaritas later, Shanna almost didn’t notice that it was raining. No, pouring. The kind of tropical rain storm that really let loose.
The door jingled and the wind and rain blew in with the bar’s newest inhabitant.
Shanna leaned forward on the barstool at the window. She was drunk enough that her inhibitions about staring at a stranger weren’t what they used to be. Before she would have looked away, looked anywhere else, pretended to be studying her hands, glanced out the window. It was funny, how tequila worked.
Or maybe it was more than the guy who entered the bar was one of those guys that immediately drew attention wherever he went.
He wasn’t thick and blocky like guys who went to the gym, but he was powerful and distinctly masculine, built like one of those steel cables. Wiry. Resistant. The kind that could hold up a few thousand pounds effortlessly.
Shanna spent most of her life with an undying fascination for men that were shaped like a football quarterback. She liked the classic triangle shape, big broad shoulders, barrel chests, tight waists, massive leg muscles. She liked tall guys, guys that could pick her up with a single arm and heave her over their shoulder. Guys that could dominate, could lay her out flat and cover her up with their massive being. Guys that were all hard planes and jutting angles and rigid muscle. That was normally her flavor.
Percy: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Lonely Rider MC Book 1) Page 1