2. Preacher
PREACHER
I’d spent most of my adult life knowing exactly where Holly Curtis belonged in my head. Rowan’s daughter, the kid who left her shit around his house and the teenager who invented reasons to walk through the kitchen while I was there.
I’d noticed that part too without being interested in it.
At thirty-six, eighteen-year-old Holly had been a line I wouldn’t cross. She’d been leaving for college and still blushing when Rowan teased her. Whatever crush she’d had on me belonged to her, and I’d had enough sense not to make it anything else.
Nine years later, she’d walked into Curtis Freight in fitted jeans and a white tank top, looked me dead in the eye and told me to ask before touching her paperwork.
That had been different, enough that I’d spent the ride back to the clubhouse pissed off with myself for remembering exactly how her mouth had looked when she said it.
Smoke was behind the bar when I walked in, pouring coffee into a mug that had probably been clean sometime last week. Gage sat at one of the tables with his boots stretched out in front of him, scrolling through something on his phone.
Smoke looked up from the mug in his hand. “You find Holly?”
“Found her. She’s got an offer on Curtis Freight.”
Gage’s attention lifted immediately from his phone. “From who?”
“That’s what I’m finding out.” Smoke slid a mug toward me without asking, and I took it. “The offer’s too good.”
Neither man laughed because men like us didn’t get suspicious over somebody making money; we got suspicious when somebody paid more than they had to without an obvious reason. I forwarded the company name from Holly’s paperwork to Deacon. He’d dig faster than I could and had the patience for.
Smoke leaned his forearms on the bar. “Had two strangers asking about commercial storage yesterday. Hit the fuel station, then Moreno’s place out by the old rail spur. Wanted empty properties and warehouse space without paperwork.”
Gage put his phone down. “One came through the garage last week asking who hauled south.”
I looked between them, already irritated. “Why am I only hearing this now?”
“Because some asshole asking questions isn’t usually worth dragging you out of bed for,” Smoke said. “Now it might be.”
That was fair, even if I didn’t like it. “Curtis Freight has yard space, storage and active haulage routes. Buyer wants everything, quick close, cash.”
“And Rowan’s dead,” Gage added.
The words landed harder than they should have. Rowan had been gone long enough that I’d stopped expecting his truck outside the clubhouse, but not long enough for the absence to feel normal.
Smoke watched me over the rim of his mug. “Holly signing?”
“Not for two days.”
His mouth twitched because he already knew the answer. “She actually agree to that?”
“Eventually, and I’m not interested in your opinion about how the conversation went.”
Gage gave one short laugh before asking, “How old is she now?”
My eyes went to him, and he lifted both hands. “That answers that.”
Smoke’s grin was worse because he knew better than to say anything. He’d known Rowan almost as long as I had and remembered Holly leaving Salvation at eighteen with more attitude than luggage.
I set the mug down. “I’m going back out there.”
“Why?” Smoke asked.
Because I didn’t like the man who’d come to the office, because he knew details Holly hadn’t given him which made me suspicious. But also because somebody had decided Rowan’s death made his business easy to take, and because Holly was there alone. “Because I don’t trust any of it.”
Smoke’s expression lost the amusement as he straightened. “Want company?”
“No. Have Deacon call me when he finds something. You hear anything else about this, I want it.”
Gage pushed to his feet. “You planning to tell Holly any of this?”
“When I know enough to tell her something useful.”
“That’ll go well.”
I gave him a look and headed for the door. The sun was lower when I turned onto the freight road, but heat still came off the asphalt. Holly’s car was where I’d left it, and everything looked normal until I saw the warehouse side door hanging open.
I killed the bike and was off it before the engine stopped ticking. The office was empty when I looked inside. “Holly?”
No answer came, so I crossed the yard with my hand near the pistol under my cut. Nobody wandered into Curtis Freight by accident. The road ended here, and the warehouse held little worth stealing.
A scrape came from inside. I stepped through the side door and found two men near the back office, one with a drawer pulled out of a metal cabinet and the other beside a desk covered in dispatch sheets, route printouts and maintenance logs.
Neither looked like a junkie hunting for something to pawn.
“Put it down,” I said.
Both men turned toward me. The one at the cabinet was broad and heavy through the shoulders; the other was leaner, maybe thirty, with a tattoo crawling up the side of his neck.
“Private fucking property,” I added.
Neck Tattoo smiled like he thought the answer mattered. “You the owner?”
“No.”
“Then walk away.”
I almost laughed at that, but footsteps sounded behind me before I could answer.
“Preacher?”
Every muscle in my body locked. Holly came through the warehouse door carrying a cardboard file box against her hip, her eyes moving from me to the two men as understanding hit.
“Get outside,” I said.
She lowered the box instead. “Who are they?”
“Holly, I know you heard me. Get outside until I know what this is.”
The broad man moved first, not toward me but toward her. I was already crossing the space when he caught Holly by the upper arm, and he got one second, maybe less.
I hit him hard enough that his grip broke before Holly could pull away. My fist connected with his mouth and then his jaw, and when he staggered, I drove him into the metal shelving with enough force to rattle every tool on it.
“Preacher!”
Holly’s voice registered somewhere behind the blood roaring in my ears. The man swung at me, but I blocked it, buried a fist in his ribs and heard the air leave him. When he bent, I grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face onto the workbench.
He went loose under my hand, and I could have stopped there. Instead, I pulled him upright and hit him again.
“Touch her again,” I said against his ear, “and I’ll bury you where nobody finds the pieces.”
The other man had backed away from the desk. His hand hovered near his waistband, and I turned my head just enough to meet his eyes. “Try it.”
He looked at his friend bleeding onto the concrete, then at me, and thought better of whatever he’d been considering.
“Holly, behind me.”
For once she didn’t argue. She moved close enough that I could feel her at my back while the lean man raised his hands.
“We were told the place was empty.”
“Then tell me who gave you the address.”
“No idea. We got a location and a job.”
“Give me the name attached to the job.”
His jaw tightened. I took one step toward him, and he grabbed his friend instead. Between them they managed to get to the open side door, the broad one stumbling and leaving drops of blood on the floor.
I let them go, not because I was finished, but because Holly was behind me and I wasn’t leaving her alone to chase two men into a yard.
The second they were gone, I turned to her. “You hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
I looked at the red marks already forming around her upper arm. “That isn’t fine.”
“He grabbed me. You practically put his face through a table.”
“Should’ve hit him harder.”
Her eyes snapped to mine. There it was, the moment people stopped seeing leather and motorcycles and understood what one percent actually meant. I waited for her to step back, but she stayed exactly where she was and looked past me at the open cabinet. “They weren’t stealing anything.”
“No.”
Following her gaze, I saw that the old computer and valuable tools were untouched while route papers and files covered the desk. Holly crossed toward the desk and picked up the top page. “These are route sheets.”
“And schedules.”
She lifted another sheet and scanned it. “Fuel receipts. Driver lists.”
“Yeah.”
Her face changed as she finally understood why the offer had bothered me. I pulled out my phone and called Smoke.
“Tell me,” he answered.
“Two men inside Curtis Freight. Looking through route and operational records.”
His voice sharpened the second he understood. “Holly there? You need us?”
“She’s here and she’s okay. Not yet. Get Gage checking the road, and tell Deacon I need to know who that buyer is now. I’ve got a horrible fucking feeling about this.”
I ended the call before Smoke could ask anything else. Holly had gone very quiet. “We should call the sheriff,” she said.
“You can if you want.”
Her eyes narrowed because she clearly didn’t believe me. “That almost sounded supportive.”
“It’s your property. Your decision.”
“But you don’t think he can do anything.”
“I think he can take a report. Men who break into warehouses to photograph freight routes don’t usually leave their home address behind.”
She blew out a breath. “You really know how to make a woman feel better.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel better.”
“No, I’d noticed that.”
I looked at her arm again and felt anger climb right back up my spine. “Get your things. You’re not staying here, and you’re not staying at your fathers old house either.”
Her eyebrows went up in disbelief. “You’ve moved on quickly from the business to apparently deciding where I live.”
“I’m deciding where you don’t, because whoever sent those men may know Rowan’s house too.”
“That still doesn’t make the decision yours.”
I stepped closer until she had to tip her chin up to hold my gaze. “Two men just broke into your father’s business looking for routes and schedules. One of them put his hands on you. Until I know who sent them, you’re somewhere I can keep you safe.”
She folded her arms and winced when the movement pulled at the bruising. My patience disappeared the second I saw her wince. “You’re coming with me.”
“To the clubhouse?”
“My house.”
That stopped her, and it stopped me a little too. Her gaze held mine without wavering. “Your house. For how long?”
“Tonight. Tomorrow depends on what Deacon finds.”
She studied me for another second, and I could almost hear the argument forming. Then she looked around the warehouse at the open drawers and papers scattered over the desk.
“Fine.”
I blinked, and she frowned at me. “Don’t look so shocked. I’m capable of recognizing when something has gone from strange to dangerous.”
“Good. Then we’re leaving.”
“But I’m taking my own car.”
“No, I’ll have Gage bring it.”
Her eyes flashed with immediate irritation as she said my name. “Preacher.”
“I’m not leaving your car here. I’ll have Gage bring it.” I repeated.
“You really do have a control problem. You know that?”
She picked up her bag from beside the file box. “You know, I used to think you were mysterious.”
“What changed?”
“I grew up.”
That should have been funny. Instead, my eyes went to her mouth again, and Holly noticed.
The warehouse suddenly felt too quiet. Want had never been complicated for me, but this was.
Rowan had trusted me with things he wouldn’t trust to anyone else, including the unspoken certainty that his daughter was a line I would never cross.
But Rowan’s daughter wasn’t eighteen anymore. She stood less than a foot away from me with heat in her eyes and a bruise on her arm that made me want to hunt down the man who’d put it there.
I said her name quietly, and when she asked what was wrong, I held her gaze. “You need to stop looking at me like that.”
Her lips parted, but she didn’t look away. “Maybe you need to stop noticing.”
I should have walked away. Instead, I put a hand against the side of her neck and kissed her.
She made a soft sound against my mouth and grabbed the front of my cut, pulling me closer before I could decide I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.
That was all it took. I backed her against the edge of the desk and kissed her harder, and she opened for me immediately, tongue sliding against mine as every clean reason I’d ever had for keeping her in the right place in my head burned down at once.
Her fingers moved into my hair. Mine slid from her neck to her waist, fitting around her like I’d already learned the shape of her. Then she shifted against me, and my cock went hard enough to make thinking impossible.
I forced myself to break the kiss, and Holly’s breathing was rough when she asked, “Why did you stop?”
Because another thirty seconds and I was going to put Rowan Curtis’s daughter on his freight-office desk and fuck her.
Because eighteen years didn’t feel like enough distance from the girl she’d once been when I could still remember her father sitting in that chair.
And because if I crossed this line, I already knew I wasn’t going to cross it halfway.
I rested my forehead against hers and forced my hands to stay at her waist. “You’re coming home with me, that’s all.”
Her mouth curved slightly as she looked up at me. “That wasn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting right now.”
She looked at me for a long second, flushed and entirely too tempting, then smiled. “Fine.”
I had the distinct feeling I’d just made my life a hell of a lot more complicated, and I was taking her home anyway.