Undeserving (Undeniable #5)(44)

Preacher turned right at the third light, and then made an immediate left onto Lakeside Drive. He knew these streets like the back of his hand; he'd been coming to Four Points for years-until he'd been locked up. This would be his first summer back after two years away.

The realization that he was about to come face to face with The Judge caused his neck muscles to tighten. He'd been so preoccupied thinking about Debbie all damn day, thoughts of his father had slipped his mind. His old man was going to have quite a lot to say to him, and none of it was going to be good.

As Preacher turned slowly into the state park's gravel entrance, the ache in his neck flared hot, accompanied by shooting pains above his eyes. Fighting the urge to rub his forehead, he continued on, slowly weaving his way through the overcrowded picnic area.

He felt Debbie twisting in her seat behind him and wondered at the expression on her face. Did the crowd unnerve her? The rally had twice as many people as the Wayne County Fair. Or was she gleefully plotting how many wallets she could grab before dinner had ended? Preacher's smirked at the thought, and the pain in his head began to ease.

His mother was going to love Debbie. Ginny Fox wasn't happy unless she was sticking her nose in someone else's business and rearranging their entire life. She was a one-woman reform mission in their neighborhood. Feeding the homeless, counseling the addicts, volunteering at Father Evan's home for boys. Preacher had once caught her trying to be a go-between for feuding hookers.



       
         
       
        

The moment Ginny sensed the street on Debbie, she'd come barreling in like a bat out of hell on a mission to save the girl, and Debbie wouldn't stand a chance against her.

He drew in a deep, anxious breath …  just like he wouldn't stand a chance against The Judge.

Preacher slowed his bike to a stop at the end of a long line of motorcycles and toed the kickstand down. Pushing his goggles over his head, he looked around. Nothing had changed since the last time he'd been here-with the exception of him. Behind the picnic area sat the campground, filled with a variety of tents and trailers, all shapes and sizes. And beyond the campground, there was a waterfall that emptied into a swimming hole. During the day the area would be bursting with children and families, but after dark, the young adult crowd would congregate there. Preacher had many fond memories of after dark at the waterfall.

Debbie dismounted and turned in a circle, drinking it all in. She appeared nervous yet curious.

"You weren't kidding," she said. "There's a lot of people here."

Preacher smirked at her, a smartass joke about pickpocketing on the tip of his tongue when a whistled catcall drew their attention.

"You get sick of her, you give her to me!" a burly man shouted, raising a bottle of beer in salutation. "What I wouldn't do to ride a beaut like that-a-one!"

"The bitch ain't bad, either!" one of his companions called out, laughing.

"I'll fuck ‘em both!" a third man stated loudly, crudely grabbing his crotch. At that, the entire group burst into hysterics.

Preacher sent a two-finger salute in their direction, dismissing them. Debbie's gaze slid to Preacher. "Bitch?" she asked, brows raised.

Laughing, he set to work untying her backpack from his handlebars. "Welcome to my world, Wheels."

• • •

"Welcome to another world," Debbie muttered under her breath.

Trailing closely behind Preacher, she'd glimpsed campsites crowded with families-moms and dads playing with their children, older people snoring in lawn chairs while younger generations manned the grills. In others the music was turned up loud, the picnic tables littered with bottles of booze. Young men and women danced in the grass while others were pressed up against one another, engaged in another sort of dance.

Debbie hadn't bothered to ask Preacher any questions about where they were headed, and therefore she hadn't known what to expect. But never in a million years would she have guessed something like this.

It wasn't that the place felt unwelcoming; quite the opposite actually. This place, these people, gave off a similar vibe to the people she sometimes encountered on the road. People like Sunshine. People like Preacher. People who didn't adhere to the same social standards as everyone else and who didn't look at you sideways if you didn't look or act a certain way. Here she didn't feel like a fish out of water …  but instead, just another fish in the sea. 

"Shit." Preacher stopped and glanced around, his gaze bouncing from campsite to campsite. Debbie came to stand beside him. "What's wrong?"