Dear Reader (Devil’s Backbone #1)

Chapter 1

1

“F ucking hell, are you serious?” I groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose. When I opened my eyes again, I was confronted by the ugly sight of my badly keyed car. My gorgeous 1973 Pontiac Firebird that I’d lovingly restored with my dad throughout my childhood. My most prized possession…which was now sporting a deep scar from nose to tail through the flame-red paint on her left side.

“Sorry, kid.” My well-weathered mechanic shrugged. “Whoever did this really wanted to do damage. Can you claim it on insurance?”

I swallowed back the tears threatening to fall. “No…I only have collision coverage.” It was all I could afford on my part-time job, after paying school fees and living expenses.

My mechanic heaved a sigh. “Shit, kid, I dunno what to say. Best I can do is fifty-eight hundred, and even then, I’d have to assign one of the apprentices to do the work. Cars like this?—”

“Have expensive upkeep, I know,” I grumbled, repeating what he’d been telling me for years with every little repair she’d needed. “She’s not mine to sell, Rex, you know that.”

He shot me a grin. “I know, but it can’t hurt to ask. Next time your old man visits, send him in to see me, yes?”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure.”

“So. What are we doing about this mess?” He gestured to the ugly slash in my car, deep enough to have dented the metal in several places. If it were any other car, I’d just leave it and deal with the damage when I could afford it, but I simply couldn’t risk the chance of rust. Not on a car like this.

I groaned again, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Fix it. I’ll find the money…somewhere.” I glanced at my watch. “Speaking of, I need to get to class.”

My mechanic nodded, giving me a pat on the shoulder. “All right, kid. Leave her with me. I’ll call you when she’s done. Might be a couple of weeks, though, to find time and get the paint in.”

Not surprising. Parts for my Firebird always took ages, so getting the exact paint match wouldn’t be a quick task. “Thanks, Rex.”

With a dejected sigh, I made my way out of the garage on foot, hitching my backpack higher on my shoulder as I headed for the bus stop. It was only a few stops to get to the local community college, and without the need to search for parking, I was early to class for once.

Anxiety gnawed at my mind for the whole day, and it was a struggle to remain focused for my philosophy lecture after lunch. Hopefully my subconscious was soaking the information in, because my notebook was full of stress-doodles by the time I left campus for the day.

How the fuck was I coming up with an extra five thousand eight hundred dollars when I was just barely scraping by as it was? If I told my mom, the money would be in my account by the end of the day with a healthy excess on top, but that option made my skin itch. For one thing, it wasn’t her money. For another, the car was my dad’s baby…and with Mom about to marry another man, it seemed crazy disrespectful. Besides, I was twenty-one and couldn’t go running to my mommy for help every time life handed me lemons.

It was a backup option, though. If I could swallow my pride.

As though summoned by my thoughts, my phone rang with MOM on caller ID. Her picture was a goofy photo of her trying to do heart hands and it made me smile every time it came up.

“Hi, Mom,” I answered, bringing the phone to my ear as I trudged toward the bus stop.

“Hi, honey, how was class?” My mom’s warm mellifluous voice on the phone instantly eased some of the money stress knotted up in my chest. I smiled and told her all about the latest project my Classics Literature professor had assigned. She loved knowing what I was doing at school, and I loved telling her about it. In some way, explaining it to her helped me to better comprehend the lessons myself.

We chatted for a while, until my bus arrived and I climbed on board. At the bleep of my bus pass, my mom interrupted what I was saying. “Ashley, are you on a bus?” she asked, confused. “What happened to the Firebird?”

I bit my lip, groaning internally. I hadn’t told her about the keying, because I knew she’d start the subject of money again. She knew how much I loved my car, but she also knew how much it was worth and was of the opinion that it was just a car .

“Nothing,” I lied. “Just making more environmentally conscious choices. Fuel emissions and all that.” I winced, hating every false word I spoke. My mom and I didn’t lie to one another, and it didn’t sit well now.

The awkward pause on the other end of the phone told me she knew I was lying, but rather than call me out on it she just gave a small sigh. “Okay, honey. Are we still seeing you for dinner tonight?”

I wrinkled my nose, cursing silently. “No, I’m sorry. I totally forgot and accepted an extra shift at work.” And now, more than ever, I needed the cash. Evening shifts paid better and usually tipped better than daytime too.

“That’s okay,” Mom replied without any judgment, “but Max and I really want to talk to you about something, so could you come by the house tomorrow?”

Max—my mom’s boss and new fiancé —technically had his own home in Lake Prosper but Mom said it was lacking in warmth , so she’d convinced him to move in with her here in Panner Valley instead. They were all kinds of adorable together, even I had to admit, though it had been a tough pill to swallow when they confessed just recently to a nearly eight-year-long relationship. Logically it made sense why they’d kept it quiet; they’d wanted to avoid gossip and playing into stereotypes since Mom was Max’s secretary.

“Yeah, for sure. Sorry about that. Please tell Max I’m sorry too. I bet he’s already started cooking.” Max loved to cook and was very good at it. He treated every meal as a fine dining experience.

My mom laughed. “He has, but that’s okay. I think Nate is coming by, and that boy eats like he’s starving at every meal.”

My brows rose. “You were going to spring the stepbrother on me with no notice? Rude. Will he be there tomorrow?” Despite the fact my mom and Max had been engaged for a month, I had yet to meet Max’s son, Nate. He must have been just as in the dark as I had been about the nature of our parents’ relationship all these years.

“I’m not sure about tomorrow,” Mom replied. “I’ll ask. But you’ll meet him one of these days, I’m sure. You two are always so busy!”

She was right about that, at least in my case. I assured her again that I’d see her for dinner the following day, then ended the call right as the bus approached my stop. It was a four-block walk to the two-bedroom apartment I shared with five other girls, but rent was steep in Panner Valley and I didn’t need the luxury of a private room when I had no love life to speak of.

An hour later I was hauling ass through the staff entrance of Serenity, an upscale day spa where I worked as a masseuse. “You’re late!” my manager, Meg, called out when I flew into the locker room to change into my uniform.

“Sorry!” I replied, yanking my T-shirt over my head and diving into the black cap-sleeved shirt with my name embroidered on the breast. “I had to take the bus.”

Meg wandered over to me and grimaced. “Trouble with that sexy car of yours?”

I sighed. “Yeah, some asshole keyed it like they had a personal grudge. So any extra shifts that need covering…”

She nodded. “Gotcha. Well, your first client is already here. I’ll get him sorted out with the questionnaire for you. He’s rocking a Rolex so could be a good tipper.”

I laughed, buttoning my shirt as Meg headed out to the lounge where my client would be waiting. I hated arriving to work late and frazzled, but it couldn’t be helped. Quick as I could, I changed my jeans for the uniform linen pants and smoothed my wavy, cinnamon brown hair up into a professional bun on top of my head.

A quick glance at the clock as I left the lockers told me I was only six minutes late, but it still ate into the client’s allotted appointment time so I’d have to make it up…which in turn would see me running late for the rest of my shift.

Serenity had recently started keeping later hours due to demand, and I was a big fan. Evening rates were a lot better and the shifts worked around my classes way easier, but on the downside, we often had seedy businessmen stumble in after happy hour, asking about happy endings .

That was not the kind of massage we offered.

“He’s hot ,” Meg whispered, handing me the clipboard as I passed her in the hallway outside our waiting lounge.

Biting back a laugh, I gave her a glare of reproach, then smacked her lightly with the clipboard. “Shh. Unprofessional much?”

Meg just rolled her eyes and chuckled as she walked away, leaving me to greet my client and introduce myself.

I quickly scanned the survey form that he’d just filled in, gathering the important information in my head as I rounded the corner.

“Hi, Heath, is it? I’m Ashley, I’ll be your therapist this evening. Are you—” I raised my eyes from the clipboard to smile at my client and damn near swallowed my own tongue.

Fuck. Meg hadn’t been exaggerating. He was scorching hot.

“Am I…?” he prompted, dark brows raised and amusement dancing in his hazel eyes as I stared like a fucking deer in headlights. Not only was he handsome, but he was tall—almost a foot taller than me—and built. The stretch of his shoulders had my palms itching to shape them.

I blinked a couple of times, trying to remember what I was saying, and my face heated with embarrassment. “Sorry, uh, sorry. I’m Ashley, your therapist.”

“You said that part,” he informed me with a mock whisper.

Christ! “Yep, I sure did. If you’ll follow me?”

In an attempt to cover my fumble, I hurried back into the corridor and carefully avoided looking at him at all while leading the way to my room. As I did with all clients, I opened the door, then held it for him to enter first but needed to swallow hard as he brushed far too close in the process.

What the hell was going on? He was like something straight out of a sex dream—tall, broad, gorgeous smile…and I was about to get my hands all over him. I needed to get my shit under control, or this would get me fired.

“Uh, I’ll leave you to undress,” I told him, praying my face wasn’t red. “When you’re ready, pop beneath the top sheet with your face in the hole.” I folded the top sheet back with practiced movements, then quickly dimmed the lights as I exited the room once more.

Once the door was shut, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes to try and calm down. It was because I’d arrived in a frazzled chaotic state and he was just a very good-looking man. That was it. I had about three minutes while he got undressed, so I had three minutes to find my inner peace once more.

“You okay, Ash?” one of my colleagues, a huge guy called Dwayne, asked as he exited his own room down the hall.

I glanced his way and gave a firm nod. “Yeah, all good.”

It was just a hot client. No big deal. We had them all the time and I’d never acted like an idiot before, so this guy was going to be no different. Strictly professional. Once he was face down, he’d just be another body, same as everyone else I massaged. Focus on the muscles, the knots, the points of tension…ignore the rest.

Easier said than done.