Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Brook

Icouldn’t help but notice the difference between how Drue and my ex maneuvered their bikes. Drue was careful, slowed down, and hugged the corners when we turned. There were no daredevil stunts like racing past an oncoming train or trying to overtake multiple cars at once. Rather than being tense and in fear for my life, I was able to relax and enjoy the ride. I tightened my arms around Drue, finding that I was not only grateful that he came out to support me today, but also grateful for this experience. He had turned something extremely anxiety provoking into something I could enjoy.

I was pissed about the tire, I hoped that what I’d said was right, and it was just teenagers being stupid. But at the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but think it had something to do with my ex. I knew that was crazy as I’d pretty much dropped off his radar months ago, but still—the knot of anxiety in my stomach was there as I thought about that man and what he’d done. I must have been holding onto Drue tightly, because one of his hands briefly came and patted my thigh. It wasn’t a sexual gesture, more reassurance. I loosened my grip and leaned into his back trying to forget the past and just focusing on the moment and enjoying the feel of the cool breeze as we headed to the garage.

Drue turned into a large parking lot with a large two-story building that looked like a private club or sports bar from the outside. He pulled up to the very front of the building and threw down his kickstand. I removed my helmet, and he hung it alongside his off his handlebars. He lifted me off his bike like I didn’t weigh anything.

I gestured to a building off to the side. “Is this the garage?”

He grabbed my hand and started tugging me towards the front of the club rather than the garage. “Yep. It will take Coyote a bit longer to get here with your car. Let’s go into the clubhouse, have a drink, and talk about what happened while we’re waiting.”

When we stepped inside, my first guess had been correct. There were a multitude of tables and a large bar that ran down one side of the room. An attractive redhead was serving drinks.

There were very few men in the room, but an abundance of women. I was baffled when several of them shot me dirty looks. The redhead behind the bar looked up and smiled at us. Drue waved her over as we sat at a table in the back.

“Hey, Hornet. What can I get you and your pretty friend to drink?”

“Give me a cold draft.”

When he looked to me, I said, “I’ll have the same.”

“Coming right up,” she said cheerfully.

When she scurried off to get our drinks, Drue dove right into the discussion about my tire. “Depending on how long it takes Coyote to get here and what they have going on in the garage today, you can expect to have your vehicle back within an hour or two.”

“That sounds really great, Drue. I’m not used to having anyone to rely on, so I appreciate you coming out today.”

“It’s no problem,” he responded firmly.

The bartender slid our drinks in front of us and headed back to the bar without interrupting our conversation.

“Do you have any idea who might have slashed your tire?” Drue asked without missing a beat,

I shook my head. “Not really. I spent most of my time working at the diner before I got fired. My boss said someone made a complaint about the service and he had to let me go. He wasn’t angry or anything. In fact, he was so nice about it. Sometimes the guests used to get a bit handsy, he felt some loyalty to the clientele, so I guess finding a new server was easier than new punters.”

Drue was pensive for a long moment before asking, “Do you know anyone who owns a large hunting knife?”

I was honestly stumped on that one. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hunting knife up close before, so the answer to that question would be no. Sorry I’m not more helpful.”

“That’s fine. We just need to keep brainstorming until something jumps out at us. How about friends or former friends? Did you have any friendships that went bad?”

I sighed and folded my arms over my stomach. I didn’t like all the personal questions because the answers created an image of myself that I didn’t care for. I shouldn’t be ashamed about what happened between me and my ex, but for some reason I was. Since being thrown out of my home I’d tried to convince myself I was this strong, independent woman. But in reality, I’d been manipulated and controlled by Tate, who was nothing but an abusive dirtbag.

“If you’re not honest with me, I can’t help you,” Drue said.

“My best friend dumped me shortly before I came to work for you. She said I had too much drama and chaos going on in my life and she was tired of dealing with it.”

He immediately zeroed in on the pace most likely to bear fruit. “What did she mean by chaos?”

I ran one hand over my face as I thought about how much to disclose about my past without him thinking I was this pathetic, helpless woman. “I had an ex who was nothing but trouble. I let him walk in and out of my life too many times and my friend was always there to help me pick up the pieces.”

“Does this sound like something your ex would do?”

“Yeah. He’s a total asshole. Although I could easily see him slashing my tire, I don’t think it was him. I haven’t heard a peep out of him for months and can’t imagine why he would suddenly pop back up in my life and start harassing me. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“How about your father? You said he got so pissed about your mother getting pregnant with you by another guy that he disowned you. Is it possible he’s the one putting a wrecking ball through your life?”

“Herb would never do something like that, because it seems his aim in life is pretending I don’t exist. He doesn’t allow me to visit my mother at home, and he doesn’t allow me to speak to my younger brothers anymore. In his world, I’m dead to him.”

“I’m starting to really dislike that asshole. However, if he’s spending that kind of time and energy on ignoring you, he’s probably not going out of his way to hunt down your vehicle and slash your tire. Is there anyone else you can think of who might have the slightest reason to want to make your life difficult?”

“Honestly? No.”

Drue mulled it over as we sipped our drinks. “If what you’re saying is true, and I have no reason to suspect it’s not, the most likely suspect is your ex. Let’s zero in on him for a bit.”

Cursing myself for bringing up my ex, I went ahead and gave him the rundown. “I was eighteen and homeless, I’d been couch surfing at friends’ houses or sleeping in my car. He was the older cousin of a friend of mine. I met him at a party she threw. Tate Barnes wore a leather jacket and rode a flashy motorcycle that was all tricked out in chrome. Although he was rough around the edges, he was also smooth talking and charming.”

Drue frowned. “Let me guess. He was at least ten years older than you and the charming part didn’t last long at all.”

“I didn’t realize how predictable my life story was. I must seem like an open book to you.”

“It’s not you who’s predictable. It’s him. I know his type.”

“And what type would that be?”

“Scumbags who like prey on innocent girls.”

I nodded, trying not to get emotional. “We were together for almost a year before he hit me for the first time.”

Drue grimaced. “And he apologized profusely and begged for your forgiveness.”

“You’re good at this game.”

“How many times did you take him back before you finally noped out?”

“About six or seven. I ended up in the hospital with a broken arm, and after that I was done. Tate didn’t understand. I had gone back to him all the other times. He kept thinking there was something he could say or do to make things right, to get me to come back to him. He started stalking and harassing me. I threatened him with a restraining order, and it took months for him to realize I was done. It’s been about six or seven months since I’ve seen or spoken to him. I can’t imagine any reason in the world that he would turn up now and vandalize my car.”

“He sounds like a slow learner. For some assholes, when the next relationship fails, they try to revisit the past instead of moving on.”

“I suppose that’s possible. I just don’t think it’s very probable.”

“Then there is the other possibility that he never stopped stalking you, he just learned to be better at covering his tracks. He could have arranged for someone to call me complaining about your past childcare job performance. I remember you saying that neither instance rang a bell.”

A cold chill crept up my spine. I’d thought my being sacked from Rubio’s diner was due to the over-friendly customer, but my boss had said there’d been other complaints about me. Phone calls. Could Tate have had anything to do with that too? I felt stupid about growing so complacent. I should have known getting rid of him wouldn’t be so easy. He had always told me I belonged to him, and he would never let me go. I can still remember how romantic I thought that was the first time he said it. I learned to hate those words over the years. They made me feel trapped and helpless. Suddenly I couldn’t get my breath and it felt like the room was closing in on me. I was suffocating, I knew I was hyperventilating, but that didn’t make it any easier, my head was spinning, and my arms were numb.

***

I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew, I was lying across Drue’s lap. The bartender and several other people were standing around our table as Drue wiped a wet cloth over my forehead. I jerked to attention, embarrassed about reacting so badly to Drue’s theory that my ex had never stopped meddling in my life.

I pushed against his chest and tried to stand. Drue stood along with me to make sure I was steady on my feet.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know what happened. I just started feeling lightheaded.”

An older man in a leather cut that said ‘President’ on a patch asked, “You had a panic attack. Would you like to lie down for a bit? Hornet, how her up to the guest suite.”

I nervously glanced around, feeling more embarrassed by the minute. “I’m sure I’ll be fine in a minute or two.”

Drue turned me around and guided me towards the stairs with his hand in the small of my back. “You need to rest, the fact you got so anxious shows how much this is weighing on your mind. I’ll show you to one of the rooms.”

When I opened my mouth to object, he cut me off. “Our rooms are clean and comfortable. It’ll take the garage a while to get your tire changed. They had to send one of the prospects to get one because they didn’t have a size that would match the others.”

I didn’t need to rest, but I sorely wanted to be away from all the gaping people. They all looked concerned, but I didn’t need their pity. This whole situation was turning into a nightmare. Getting away from it all for an hour or so would probably go a long way towards coming to terms with Tate still messing with my life.