With that, he walks away. Lucky nods at me, then follows him.
I turn to Ruby. Her face is flushed, and her eyes are wide as she worries her lip between her teeth.
“You all right?” I ask, fighting the urge to reach out to her. I want to run my thumb over her cheek, draw her in for an embrace. I want to tell her that I’d never let one of these assholes hurt her, that I’d make every single one of them fight me before they got to her.
She swallows, nodding.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, looking up at me.
The fear in her eyes is like a knife to the heart.
“Listen, I should get going,” she says, her voice soft now as she reaches for her wallet.
I put out a hand to stop her.
“On the house,” I say.
“But —”
“I insist, and I’m very stubborn, so don’t bother fighting me about it,” I tell her. “It’s the least I can do.”
Ruby smiles, one hand tapping against the wooden bar. She pauses a moment, just looking at me.
“Thanks,” she finally says. “See you around, Jax.”
“See you,” I echo, and then I watch her walk out the door, her long red coat swishing into the night.
For a few minutes, I clear away her dishes, pour more drinks, and try not to think about Ruby, about the way her lips look so soft and suckable, the way her body moved lithely beneath her bright red winter coat.
It doesn’t work. I can’t think about anything else.
A few minutes after she leaves, I realize that Viper is standing alone against the back wall of the road house, looking at his phone. He keeps glancing around, smirking, like he’s up to something that no one else knows about.
I don’t know why, but I don’t like it.
After another few moments, he pulls on his leather jacket. He nods at someone else in the crowd, one of his asshole buddies.
And without making a fuss, he slips through the door.
An invisible fist squeezes my heart so hard I nearly drop the bottle I’m holding.
He’s going after her, I think. I don’t know why, but I’m certain I’m right.
I put the bottle down and ignore the shouts of the Iron Diablo I was pouring shots for, grabbing my own coat off the rack.
“I’m taking the rest of the night off,” I tell Billy, the lone cook, as he stands over the deep fryer, monitoring it.
“What?” he says, protesting. “You can’t —”
I don’t hear the rest of what he says because I’m already out the door, across the parking lot, and in my car.
Chapter Two
Ruby
The road hums along beneath my tires, my headlights illuminating the road and the deep, dark woods on either side of me. It’s about four hours from where I live in Fairville, to where my Grandma Flo lives in Emerald Valley, and the road house is about three quarters of the way through, so I’ve only got about another hour to drive.
My insides squirm as I think about the road house again. I know better than to go there. Of course I know better than to go there, it’s practically the headquarters for the Iron Diablos, and everyone knows that they’re dangerous beyond belief.
But then… there’s Jax.
Jax, the cute bartender.
No. Not cute. Cute is for puppies and boy bands. Jax is not cute.
He’s handsome, with dark eyes that feel like they’re looking straight through me and a jawline that could cut glass. I can never help but notice the way his shirtsleeves are rolled up to the elbow, revealing a Semper Fi tattoo on one side and forearms that make me a little bit weak in the knees.
Not to mention the way that his wide, muscled shoulders barely fit into his shirts, or the fact that his sleeves can barely contain his biceps. Every time I stop in at the road house on the way to Grandma Flo’s, I leave feeling warm and flustered, my body too hot for my liking.
And then, inevitably, I dream about Jax. I dream about going to the road house one day when I’m the only one there. In the dream he leans over the bar and kisses me, capturing my mouth in a kiss so needy and brutal that he almost bruises me.
He lifts me over the bar, sits me on it as I pant for breath. He murmurs my name as he trails kisses down my neck, over my shoulder, down my body as his hand slides up my thigh, rubbing me over my jeans with one thumb —
In the car I shake my head violently, like I can dislodge my dirty thoughts about Jax. He’s perfectly nice to me, and if he’s a little flirtatious, I’m sure it’s because he’s like that with everyone. He’s a bartender, and that’s his job, even if I’d swear I can see something dark and needy behind his eyes.
I’m almost out of the mountains now, and I slow for a stop sign, then make a right turn. Another twenty minutes and I’ll be to Grandma Flo’s house in Emerald Valley Acres, her retirement community, where I’ll be staying the weekend with her.
You know, if she has time for me. It took us a while for me to even find a weekend when I could visit, because last weekend she had her all-state Bridge tournament, the weekend before that she was volunteering all weekend with Big Brothers, Big Sisters, and next weekend she’ll be on a river cruise in Germany for two weeks.
The woman is nonstop even at seventy-eight, I swear. I’m lucky to have gotten on her packed social calendar.
As I get closer to town, I’m suddenly relieved to see the bright lights. I didn’t realize I was still anxious until right now, but I guess that encounter with Viper really got to me.
Nothing like that has ever happened before. I know the Black Forest road house has a reputation, but every time I’ve been in there until now, I’ve gotten ignored by everyone but Jax.
Thank God he was there. If he hadn’t been, anything could have happened.
Jax, I think, as the sign for Emerald Valley Acres comes up.
I should have at least kissed him in gratitude. As a thank you.
The guard waves me through the big gates, and I shake my head at myself again.
Jax doesn’t want your kisses, he just wants your tips. He’s nice because it’s his job to be.
Hey, a girl can dream.
I park in the spot nearest to Grandma’s condo, grab the goodie basket from the back seat of my car, and start walking in. On the way, from the corner of my eye, I notice a motorcycle at the end of the row of cars and raise my eyebrows.
If someone here can still ride that thing, more power to ‘em.
In the ground next to her doorway is a bright pink plastic flamingo, but it’s been knocked over. I roll my eyes, because Grandma has told me at length about Mrs. Barnes, her next-door neighbor who she says wouldn’t know fun if it snuck up and bit her on the ass. Before I knock on the door I right the flamingo and stick it firmly in the ground, then smile at myself.
But when I turn to the door, I realize it’s already open.
My heart clenches.
It’s only a few millimeters, but instinctively, I know something’s wrong. Grandma Flo wouldn’t leave her door open — Emerald Valley is safe, sure, but nowhere’s safe enough for a seventy-eight-year-old woman to leave her door open.
Something must be wrong.
My pulse ticks up as I push the door open, slowly, afraid of what I’ll find. Visions of Grandma Flo lying on the floor, hurt or worse, dance through my head and my breath catches in my throat.
But there’s nothing in the living room. Nothing in the dining room, or the kitchen, and even though I’m calling out her name, increasingly frantic, there’s nothing.
Finally, I’m at the bedroom door. My hand is shaking as I reach for it, imagining Grandma lying on the bed, unconscious, dead from a heart attack — or maybe worse.
What if someone broke in and hurt her? I should call the police, I should…
I push the door open.
No Grandma. The bed is empty and made, the room in spotless order just like always. I’m relieved, but I’m still frantic. She was expecting me, and I still have a bad feeling that something has—
Rough hands grab me from behind. I drop the basket as one slithers over my mouth before I can scream, the other locking around my waist.
“I see you finally made it, little girl,” an ugly voice hisses in my ear. “I was starting to worry I had the wrong house.”
It’s Viper, the guy who hit on me at the road house.
I try to scream, but the sound is muffled in my throat. There’s no way anyone can hear me.
“Keep trying,” he says in my ear. “But you should know that I don’t like being turned down, little girl.”
With that he shoves me toward Grandma’s bed, pinning me down on my stomach and shoving my face into a pillow.
I scream again, thrashing wildly as I kick, but it’s not working. He’s bigger, he’s stronger, and he’s on top of me, one hand fisted in my hair. I can barely breathe, and blackness is tunneling in from the edges of my vision.
“That bartender’s not here to save you now, is he?” Viper says, pushing me further into the mattress.
I lash out with one arm, praying that I connect with something, anything, but I don’t.
Viper just laughs.
“Relax, little girl. You might enjoy it,” he says, shoving my sweater up over my back.
I try to scream again, but the sound is lost into the pillow. Just as Viper grabs the waistband of my jeans, ready to pull them off, there’s the sound of the front door slamming open.
Viper stops.
I’m still gasping for breath, feeling light-headed, and I freeze. I’m afraid that it’s more of his Iron Diablos, and that when he’s done, they’ll take turns.