Chapter 1

Chapter One

S omething that sounded like a slow hiss caught her attention. Molly turned off her radio and strained to listen. Shoot! That glass she'd driven over appeared to have cut her tire. Wondering if she would be lucky enough to get home before it was too flat, Molly slowed down as she debated how far she could go.

When she heard a thump from the front tire, she knew she needed to stop. Easing over on the side of the highway and stopping under one of the big lights illuminating the pavement, she debated what to do. She could have called one of the elders from the church during the day. They would have helped her but at two in the morning, that wasn't possible. They'd have too many questions for her she didn't want to answer. Suddenly, going to that late movie in the town down the road seemed like a bad decision.

"Okay! You've got a spare tire and a jack," Molly told herself. "You can do this."

She turned to look around her car, checking for traffic. One solitary truck drove past on the other side of the divided highway. Did she want someone to help her? That seemed dangerous on the deserted road in the dark.

After blowing out a deep breath, Molly launched into action. She opened her door and pushed the trunk release on the small hatchback. Racing to the back to get out of the road, she pushed the hatch fully up and leaned inside to push the church bulletins for next Sunday to the side. She pulled up the spare tire cover and stared down at it.

By the time she had it unfastened from its mooring spot, Molly was already doubting her ability to change this tire. "Never give up!" She attempted to rally her positivity.

"Uf!" The heavy tire moved about three inches as she heaved it toward the opening. Maybe she should work on getting the other tire off. That might be the first step. The jack was lighter to pull out of the car anyway.

Referring to the manual, she searched with her fingers looking for the spot it recommended to place the jack. Not able to find it, Molly stretched out on the shoulder, feeling the gritty gravel and who knows what else that had gathered there.

"Aha! There it is! I just needed to see from a better angle." Her voice sounded really loud in the quiet that surrounded her. "I really need to stop talking to myself." That sounded even louder, sending a shiver down her spine.

A few minutes of success later, she looked at the tire now suspended off the pavement with satisfaction. She grabbed the tire iron and fitted it onto a lug nut. Giving it a spin, she yelped when it whacked her shin as the tire rotated freely around.

"Okay, that's just mean. How are you supposed to get the tire unfastened if it's spinning?"

Back to the manual she went and discovered she'd skipped one important step. Molly had just started trying to lower the jack when she heard the rumble of oncoming motorcycles. She looked across the road hoping they were on the other side. Of course not.

Her hands tightened on the tire iron as the bikes pulled over in front and behind her car. They're friendly. I'm sure they just look mean .

"Need some help?" a rough voice called as he kicked his stand down and swung his leg over the seat.

"No. No, thank you. I'm figuring it out," she rushed to assure them as everyone followed his example.

"It doesn't look like you've got it quite mastered yet," that gruff voice said sarcastically.

Molly backed up slightly to the edge of the shoulder to keep the men advancing from both sides in her view. Her heels teetered on the edge, so she took a baby step forward to maintain her balance. A glance behind her showed a sloping drop off into tangled weeds. She shuddered at the thought of the creepy crawlers hanging out there.

"She's definitely polite."

"I like being pleasant. I will warn you that my cheerfulness is almost gone. Perhaps you should just leave." Tears prickled her eyelids. She was tired, dirty, and scared. Molly had no idea how to change a tire and she really didn't want to know how. Now, some bikers were here to kill her. Could this day get any worse? She brushed a hand over each eye to wipe away the tears before they could fall and tried to keep her shoulders from sagging in defeat.

"What's your name?" that gruff voice asked.

A scuff on the gravel made Molly turn to look at him, and she jumped in surprise to see how close he was to her already. He was tall and muscular with tattoos that proclaimed him to be a very bad man. What made her stare was the dead look in his eyes. This man didn't care about anything.

Tears coursed down her cheeks as she tried to convince herself they wouldn't harm her. "Please, leave me alone. Don't hurt me."

A noise on the other side made her jerk her head that way to see who was approaching. This guy was younger. He didn't look as cruel, but even Molly could spot knives tucked into strategic places. She took a step back and felt her heel slide again on the gravel. Lurching forward, she rebalanced herself before looking back and forth between the two men.

"Whoa, Little girl. We're not going to hurt you. We'll help with your tire and send you on your way," the stone-faced man promised. The dead tone of his voice got Molly. What had this man suffered to reach this place where he felt nothing?

Without meaning to, Molly rushed forward to wrap her arms around his waist and hug him tight.

She knew something was seriously wrong when all the noise died out completely. Looking up, she released him and took a big step back only to teeter once again on the edge of the shoulder. Realizing it was a lost cause to fight it, Molly relaxed her muscles hoping not to break something as she fell.

"Eep!" burst from her lips as the man reached out to lift her back to safety as effortlessly as steadying a toy.

"Eep?" he repeated.

"Sorry. Thank you." Molly rubbed her eyes once again to make sure no tears had escaped.

"Come stand over here by the back of your car. The guys can change your tire. They love doing good deeds," the man who'd prevented her tumble shared with a sarcastic tone.

"That's so nice of them. I should go thank them," Molly stammered, not quite sure how she should handle the elephant in the room, so to speak. The hug.

"No way. You're standing right here next to me."

"C-Could you tell me your name?" she asked, knowing she'd ignored a request for hers. "I'm Molly."

"Faust."

"Like the man who made a pact with the devil?" Molly asked.

"Yes."

She could hear the men swearing at the mechanics who'd tightened the lug nuts so tight while the others lounged carelessly on their bikes. The silence between her and Faust seemed almost deafening. She had to say something.

"The minister says I need to stop hugging people."

"He's a smart man, obviously."

Again, that dratted lull. She peeked up at Faust and found him studying her. "I don't hug that many people. Only those who I know need a hug."

"And I needed a hug?" he drawled.

She couldn't tell from his expression if he was angry or amused.

"Are you mad at me? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"I'm not mad."

A few seconds later, she had to know. "Just surprised?"

"Definitely."

"The minister says I don't look like a hugger. Not that I hug that many people."

"Just those who need one."

"Right!" She smiled at him. He understood.

He stared at her harder than ever. He didn't understand. She took an automatic step forward then forced herself to stop. He might forgive her for hugging him once. Twice would be way over the top.

She felt for her necklace. It wasn't anything special. A plain cross on a fake gold chain. Molly had gotten it from her grandmother when she was twelve and skipped school to be a cool kid. It was a reminder that her path wasn't to be cool. Her path was to do the right thing.

Like hugs.

She knew cool people didn't go around hugging tough-looking bikers whether they needed one or not. Most people probably were scared of them—like she had been when they'd first rolled up. Molly looked over at the two guys working together to change her tire. They had the old one off and were pulling the spare out of her trunk.

"She's just got a donut, Faust," the one with a tangled mane of beautiful hair called.

Molly tried not to covet his hair. Hers was mousy brown and ordinary. Kind of like her brown eyes and thin face. She peeked up at Faust. His face was all hard angles. She'd tried not to notice his body, but the hug had cemented in her mind that his strength was bone deep. Suddenly, she wondered if he liked banana pudding.

He turned and walked away just as she'd almost gotten brave enough to ask. She watched him head back to his bike and felt sad. He was tired of talking to her. Of course he was.

Plain Molly. Oh, she could doll herself up. Or at least she had on a few occasions before she started working at the church. She'd looked okay with some camouflage from makeup. But she'd always felt like she was deceiving people. Shouldn't they like her without a bunch of stuff all over her skin?

Shaking her head at her thoughts, Molly looked back at Faust. He'd seemed like a nice biker. A mean guy would have let her fall. And he hadn't even made a big deal when she'd hugged him.

Peeking back over, she saw him lean over and search through one of the leather bags attached to each side of his bike. Molly immediately looked down at her feet after noticing his—assets. Scuffing her shoes in the gravel, she waited for the men to finish her car so she could thank them, without hugs, and go hide in her apartment.

A dark brown teddy bear appeared in front of her. Automatically, she reached out to touch it. "It's so cute. I love his expression."

"This is for you," Faust said, handing her the stuffie.

"Oh. I can't take this. I've already made a fool of myself."

"Every Little girl needs a friend."

"Little girl?" she repeated as she took the bear. Molly studied the biker's face as she hugged the bear to her chest.

"Think of it as an exchange. A bear for a hug."

"Thank you." She knew she looked sappy with tears in her eyes, but she couldn't believe he wanted to give her something. This time she didn't even try to wipe them away. It was okay if he knew.

"The guys are almost finished. Your spare is a donut. It won't go fast, and it won't go far. Get your tire replaced soon. Do you know how to buy tires?"

"I can ask the minister. There's probably someone in the congregation who can help me."

"If not, come to the Shadowridge Guardians' shop. We'll help you," Faust told her.

"Oh, that's very kind of you." Molly stopped herself from hugging him. Really?

"We're all done, miss," the man with the beautiful hair told her as he cleaned his hands on a rag.

"Tell me your name, please," Molly asked, daring to smile at him.

"Blade."

She nodded like the dangerous name was perfectly normal. "And you?"

"Storm."

"Thank you, gentlemen."

The men both looked at her sharply at her use of that term. Faust spoke up. "You can be gentlemen for five minutes without spontaneously combusting."

Storm studied Faust's defensive posture in front of Molly and nodded. "You're welcome, miss."

"Drive home safely," another biker called as they all headed back to their rides.

"Thank you all!" she called loudly and winced as her voice resounded in the quiet evening air.

"Go get in your car, Molly," Faust urged. "I'll make sure you get to town."

"Oh! Yes. I need to get home. Thanks again. And sorry!"