Chapter 30
Holden
A couple of young guys—too young to drink, by the looks of it—were playing a game of pool. A pub table behind them held a basket of fries and two glasses of soda.
Three grizzled older men, graying beards, leathers and all, sat at the bar. I was pretty sure I recognized one of them as a biker who’d come to the shop for Gray’s services. The Harleys in the parking lot must belong to them.
A middle-aged couple sat eating a meal at a table against the far wall.
Otherwise, the place was empty.
I let out a breath of relief and turned to Shiloh. “I’ll go order a couple of drinks. Do you want anything to eat?”
He shook his head, grimacing. “I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“All right. Pick out a table. Try to think positive thoughts. Dalton will be here soon.”
He forced a smile. “Too bad Bailey’s not here, huh? He could probably teach those kids a thing or two at the pool table.”
“Or at least relieve them of some cash,” I said, eliciting a small laugh.
My chest warmed. That’s what I needed to see. Shiloh was going to get through this, and then I’d make him smile every day. If I could, I’d make him forget all about these jackasses who were making his life so difficult.
Shiloh headed for a table, and I walked over to the bar. Leo nodded to me from his place behind the bar.
“A little afternoon delight?”
I blinked at his audacity to suggest I was going to sex up Shiloh. “Uh…”
“The beer, Cross. I meant the fucking beer. Middle of the day isn’t usually your style.”
“Ah.” I chuckled awkwardly. “Right. Yeah, I guess we’re just here because we need a distraction.”
Leo’s thick, bushy eyebrows drew together. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Hopefully, anyway. We just, uh…need to keep a low profile for a few minutes.”
He frowned. “I don’t want any trouble in my bar. I’m just recovered from fucking Axel brawling in here.”
“Come on. You know me. Am I the fighting type?”
“No.” He seemed relieved. “You usually keep the others in line. All right, what will you have to drink?”
“Let’s just get a couple of Cokes.”
I didn’t think either of us was in the mood for alcohol. With any luck, Dalton would show up with no news to report, and we’d head home.
Leo grabbed a couple of pint glasses and filled them with soda. While he worked, one of the bikers shifted toward me.
“You run the auto shop, right?”
“Yep.”
I half turned to keep an eye on Shiloh while I waited on the drinks.
He was sitting at the table, chewing on his nails, which I’d never seen him do before.
As someone who used to spend a lot of time on camera, Shiloh took care with his appearance, from hair style, to skin care, to manicured nails.
He must be really anxious to mess that up.
“Gray did a great job on my daughter’s bike last August. I’ve been telling everyone about your shop.”
“Thanks for that.”
“Sure thing. We love having a closer place to service our bikes. I’ll tell everyone I meet if it’ll keep Gray in business.” He gave a gusty laugh.
I couldn’t even manage a polite laugh in return. He seemed like a really nice guy, but I was too tangled up about Shiloh.
Leo plunked the two glasses of soda in front of me. “Here.”
I turned, relieved to escape the small talk, and tossed a ten-dollar bill on the bar. “Thanks.”
I picked up the two glasses. The biker dude had turned back to his friends, so at least he didn’t seem too bothered I wasn’t much of a conversationalist.
I carried our drinks to the table, where Shiloh was nervously gnawing at his fingers, and placed a soda in front of him. “You’re ripping up your fingernails, sweets.”
Shiloh pulled his hand from his mouth and examined his nails, then grimaced. “I was a childhood biter. Took me years to break the habit. Just one more thing Jimmie has ruined for me.”
I sat down next to him and gave his hand a quick squeeze. I was still a little stunned by the way I’d pulled him into that hug. My only thought had been to comfort him, and I was so damn glad that for once, my aversion hadn’t triggered.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t a ball of anxiety about what to do about these two guys harassing Shiloh.
I was trying to put on a good show of confidence and strength for Shy, but worry churned in my gut.
“Let’s take our minds off this mess,” I suggested. “How was your day at school?”
He shrugged, a little too mired in his thoughts to really embrace the idea. “I covered gym. Got a little zealous trying to convince the kids I was just as fit as their regular teacher.”
“You are pretty fit,” I said, giving him a once-over. Shiloh was leaner than me, but it only made his muscles prettier. I’d loved his body from the first time I saw it, so long and toned, tight in all the right places.
He gave me a distracted smile, and I felt like that poor biker at the bar, trying to make small talk with someone whose heart wasn’t in it.
“We’re going to figure this out, Shy. I refuse to let anything ruin what we have together.”
He sagged in the chair. “I’m sorry. I’m freaking out, and I’m not even hiding it well.”
“You don’t have to hide from me.”
The door to the bar opened. I glanced that way reflexively, just as I would anytime someone new entered the bar. My heart lurched as two men stepped inside, one tall and slender and the other shorter and built like a brick shithouse.
“Shit,” Shiloh said.
“Those are the guys, right?”
“Yes,” he hissed. “What do we do? Fuck. They were following us.”
“Stay calm,” I murmured.
Shiloh craned his neck to track their progress over to the bar. They’d spotted us the second they stepped inside. I could tell by the smirks on their faces, the smug assholes.
“Hey,” I said, “look at me.”
Shiloh turned back to me, eyes dark and wide in his pale face. “I don’t know what to do.”
“They can’t hurt you here,” I said. “Dalton is still on his way.”
“Right. Yeah.” Shiloh nodded. “You’re right.”
“Let’s just try to ignore them. Let them watch us. If they’re still here when Dalton shows up, it’ll be all the better, right? He can haul their asses away.”
“For what crime? Hanging out in the same place as me? I don’t think the police can do anything.”
“Well, at the minimum, he can keep them busy while we leave. They won’t follow us home.”
He nodded, blowing out a breath. “Okay, that’s— Oh, god. They’re coming over.”
I glanced over my shoulder just as the taller one reached us. He pulled out a chair and sat down at our table. “So, you must be the sugar daddy, hm? Not bad work, Shiloh. He’s decent-looking. Probably takes good care of you. You meet him on that camboy site?”
He scanned my face and laughed. “Oh, you did! You hooked this client good. He probably thinks he’s something special, huh? Not just a schmuck you manipulated for a place to hide out.”
“He is something special,” Shiloh shot back, voice fierce.
“Uh-huh.” He glanced at his partner in crime, the brute just now arriving with a couple of beers in hand. He sat one down, then took the remaining chair, blocking us in from the other side. “Shiloh’s not a bad actor. I’ll give him that.”
Shiloh sent me a worried look, but I wasn’t going to believe anything coming from guys like these. My trust was way stronger than that. If it wasn’t, I would never have let Shiloh in, let him touch me more than any other person in the world.
“Oh, how rude of me. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Curtis.” He held out his hand to shake, but I ignored it. There were times I’d push myself to touch someone, but Curtis wasn’t worth the trouble. “My friend over there is Brick. And you are…?”
“Not interested in being your friend,” I said tightly.
“Oh, ouch!” He dropped his hand, giving up on the handshake. “You’re cold, man. We’re here, trying to help you out before you get scammed or robbed. I’d save you from being catfished, but it looks like that ship has sailed.”
He and Brick laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. I ground my teeth.
“Please leave us alone,” Shiloh said. “I don’t have your money.”
“That’s not what Jimmie said,” Brick countered.
“He gave you the money, and you’ve been lying to us all this time.” Curtis tsked. “That’s not very nice. We don’t like liars.”
“I’m not lying.”
“The hell you’re not,” Brick growled. “You’ve always been an uppity bitch. Think you can just walk away with what’s ours?”
Curtis’s eyes went flinty. “Maybe we’ll just rent your ass out to desperate men like this one—” He nodded his head in my direction. “—to get what we’re owed. You’re a whore on camera, so it’s not much different, right?”
I shoved my chair back and stood, anger pulsing through me. “Don’t talk to him that way.”
Curtis stood up too. “You going to stop me?”
Shiloh pushed away from the table. “Let’s just go, Holden. You shouldn’t have to listen to this.”
Neither should he. I wanted to make Curtis and Brick eat their ugly words. I wasn’t violent. How could I be when I was so averse to touch? When violence had shaped my trauma? But right now, anger was overtaking anxiety.
Shiloh was right, though. The situation was escalating, and we needed to leave before it got truly ugly.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
Shiloh and I started for the door.
We didn’t make it far. Brick and Curtis were right behind us.
“You’re not walking away,” Curtis said.
Brick’s hand landed on Shiloh’s arm, tugging him around. Shiloh cried out in surprise, trying to pry Brick’s fingers from his arm, and my heart rate went through the roof.
I whirled around. “Don’t touch him!”
Brick sneered. “Oh, I’ll touch him as much as I like. I’ll touch him all over.” He tugged Shiloh closer, even as he struggled to break the grip, and groped at his side.
Seeing his hands on Shiloh, this man who had become so precious to me, was like seeing his hands on me. I snapped, charging forward with a roar and wrenching Brick’s hands off Shiloh.
Once he was free, I pulled Shiloh behind me, putting myself between him and Brick.
“Holden!” Shiloh exclaimed. “Wait, don’t—”
It was too late. Brick shoved me. Two big hands landed on my chest, burning like brands, and pushed me into Shiloh. He stumbled back, half catching me, but that only made it worse. My body lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, every nerve sparking and sending warnings to my brain.
Danger danger danger.
Brick grabbed my coat lapels, shaking me. I broke his hold, pushing him back, and Curtis grabbed my arm too.
“No, stop!” Shiloh cried. “Please, you’ll hurt him. Let go now. Please!”
There were a few shouts from other bar patrons, and the door slammed open behind me—cold wind gusting against my back—and then Dalton’s voice rang out.
“Everyone, step back! Keep your hands where I can see them.”
Curtis and Brick backed off, raising their hands, but I still felt them all over me.
My heart thundered, my skin burning. A buzzing, like an electric shock, tore through my system. Fuck. Panic attack incoming, and it was going to be a big one.
Around me, people were talking, but I only caught snatches of the conversation.
“…is he okay?”
“Shoving and…”
“My fucking bar is cursed!”
That last one was Leo. I wanted to apologize, but I couldn’t make words. A fog descended, and my thoughts spiraled into dark places.
There was no stopping it.
“Holden, are you okay?” Shiloh’s voice.
“Bathroom,” I croaked.
I charged across the room, trying to run but managing more of a stumbling, weaving gait that probably made me look drunk. I couldn’t focus, couldn’t think of anything, except that I needed a place to get away. To hide. To ride it out.
I pushed through the bathroom door and immediately lost the contents of my stomach in the toilet.
I dropped onto my ass, wheezing for breath, sweating, skin burning and tingling unpleasantly, and put my head between my knees, pulling out every coping mechanism I’d learned in the hopes that I wouldn’t pass out as dots danced behind my eyes.
I should be better than this. I should be past this. When will I be strong enough?
Why can’t I do it?
Why?