Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Holly sat in the passenger seat with the window open and watched the gas pump tick upward like it had a personal vendetta against Luke’s credit card.
She couldn’t believe she had no phone, no ID, no credit cards. She was so annoyed with herself, even flustered, which wasn’t like her at all. Hopefully the real estate agent wouldn’t need to see her ID, since they’d already met online, and the rental agreement was signed.
Unfortunately, without her phone she had no easy way to contact her credit card companies and bank.
Because hindsight was twenty-twenty, shipping her personal laptop with her household goods had been a terrible idea.
She sent up another prayer that Luke’s brother could bring her phone home tonight…
or tomorrow at the latest. And if he couldn’t, that Luke’s sister-in-law could help.
The gas pump clicked off, and she got out of the truck.
They’d only driven about six miles before Luke stopped for gas and snacks.
She should probably be surprised that the truck hadn’t been filled at the rental car place, but she wasn’t.
She replaced the pump nozzle, put on the gas cap, and glanced at the 7-11.
Luke had gone inside nearly ten minutes ago.
So what was he doing? Negotiating a treaty?
She studied the highway beyond the twelve gas pumps. While cars whizzed by in both directions, she turned west. It was hard to see in the hazy sunshine, but the Shenandoah Mountains loomed like an unfinished painting in the background.
Cars driving through the rest stop honked at each other, breaking her concentration. Although the cars weren’t annoyed with her or the huge gleaming white truck that took up two pump spots, she was ready to get back on the road.
The store’s automatic doors whooshed open, and a wave of too-cold air, along with the unmistakable scents of coffee and melted cheese, hit her in the face. Her stomach made unhappy-yet-anticipatory noises.
After using the restroom and washing her scraped hands to make sure they were clean, she found Luke standing near the back coolers, tall and broad in his black T-shirt and dark hair tousled from the wind.
He was laughing with two men who looked like they’d come straight off a construction site.
One wore a flannel shirt with the sleeves torn off.
The other had a reflective vest slung over his shoulder like a badge of honor.
These other men carried a powerful resemblance to each other. They had to be related, maybe even twins.
“Dude,” Flannel Guy said. “I still can’t believe you’re back. I thought you’d never leave that beach.”
“Or survive your smoke jumping gig out west.” The man in the reflective vest clapped Luke on the back hard enough to make him spill cola out of the fountain soda cups he held. “What’s it been, bro? Like five years?”
“Give or take.” Luke gave them a wry grin. “I didn’t mean to ghost everyone. Life got messy.”
Holly hesitated, unsure whether to interrupt. She hadn’t heard him laugh like that in the airport. And she sure hadn’t expected him to know every random stranger in Virginia.
“Are you here for Hawk’s wedding?” Flannel Guy asked. “Your cousin invited everyone from Kingsmill to Charlottesville.”
“Yeah.” Luke licked spilled soda off his wrist—until he noticed her and raised his head.
That’s when the construction workers noticed her.
She wanted to take a step back, but she held her ground. She wasn’t great with meeting new people without preplanning. She had to do enough of that in the hospital on a daily basis. Still, part of starting this new life included new social skills.
So she stepped forward and smiled.
Flannel Guy gave her a wide smile. “Wow, Luke. Is this woman you found at the airport?”
Luke used his elbow to motion her over. “Holly, meet some buddies of mine.”
Holly approached, careful not to brush against the hot rotisserie oven filled with chicken bakes and turkey dogs. Both of which smelled delicious. “Hi.”
“Holly, this is Charlie and Mac Campbell,” Luke said. “We went to high school together.”
She nodded at both men and couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Are you two gentlemen fraternal twins?”
Mac raised an eyebrow, while Charlie laughed and said, “It’s been years since anyone guessed we were twins.”
Charlie glanced at Luke. “Do you and Abe still get asked?”
She sent a questioning glance at Luke.
Instead of answering, he said, “Mac and Charlie’s family own a sawmill out near Berryville. They build luxury barns now, because apparently that’s a thing.”
“Hey, people want their horses to live in style,” Mac said, nodding at her. “Are you here for Hawk’s wedding as well?”
“No.” She had no idea who Hawk was, but she didn’t feel comfortable telling them more than was necessary. “I’m on my way to Milltown, and Luke graciously offered me a ride.”
“She’s a Wythe,” Luke said. “Her people are from Milltown.”
Holly added quickly, “I’ve never actually been to Milltown. I only know my grandpa was from that area.”
“No kidding?” Mac nodded as if in approval. “Then welcome home.”
Charlie gave Luke a shoulder bump. “What about that New York City girl you left town for?”
Luke choked on a laugh. “Ancient history. Caleb made sure of that. Holly is…” he paused to study her, “a new story.”
Her cheeks suddenly felt warm, and she reached into the nearby cooler for a bottle of unsweetened cranberry juice.
“Hey, man,” Mac said in a softer voice. “We were sorry to hear about Caleb’s death. He was a force to be reckoned with.”
Charlie whistled low. “From what I hear, leadership in the MC is still uncertain. Our cousin Twitch said that Hawk is the natural choice when Acid steps down as president of the Devil’s Renegades Ravensburg chapter.”
Mac nodded. “Then there’s the whole Damian issue in the Kingsmill chapter. I still can’t believe your sister-in-law dropped her civil case against him.”
Luke’s eyes darkened and he muttered a low curse. “Eve had her reasons.”
Charlie glared at Mac with a look that thundered with unspoken annoyance.
Luke’s mood change was so sudden, so abrupt, she broke the tension by asking, “What’s an MC?”
Luke’s shoulders tensed, and he avoided her gaze.
“Motorcycle Club.” Mac let out a sigh, as if relieved to be off the Eve subject. “The Devil’s Renegades are an outlaw club who think they own these mountains.”
“They do own these mountains.” Charlie met Holly’s gaze, as if apologizing for annoying Luke. “Caleb Mosby was one of the men who resurrected the club decades ago. Even after his retirement, he had plenty to say about the club’s actions.”
She knew nothing about motorcycle clubs or outlaws, but there had been a club near Boston that was always causing trouble. “We have a motorcycle club in Boston. The Black Packs, I think.”
Mac let out a sharp laugh. “Black Jacks. They’re just as dangerous.”
Luke adjusted his stance, as if getting ready to leave. “It’s been great seeing you two, but we need to hit the road.”
When Mac’s gaze lingered too long on her breasts, she shifted closer to Luke. And Luke took one step forward, moving just slightly ahead of her.
Charlie sent Luke a sly grin. “This story of giving a pretty woman a ride to the mountains sounds like fate. You may end up tied to a woman like the rest of your brothers.”
Mac nodded. “It’s a story Caleb would’ve approved of.”
“Probably.” Luke’s voice sounded even and non-committal, but the tone had changed again. Now it sounded like a warning.
A few moments later, after more shoulder slaps, Mac and Charlie left the store.
Since Luke stood there looking down at the floor, still holding two leaking soda cups, she decided to ask the obvious question. “Luke? Who was Caleb?”
She wasn’t normally so nosy, but something about the way he’d gone quiet made her want to touch him, ground them in a familiar gesture of comfort. “Is Caleb your dad?”
It came out softer than she intended, almost tentative.
When Luke met her gaze, his jaw worked for a second like he wasn’t sure how to answer. “My grandfather.” He paused. “Caleb was a difficult man who died a few years ago.”
“Oh.” Her breath caught on the word, the weight of it heavier than she expected. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” She cut herself off, not wanting to pry, and found a cardboard drinks tray. Then she took her bottle of cranberry juice and his sodas and loaded them up. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Really. The world is a better place now that Caleb is gone.” Luke grabbed chips and pretzels with too much focus, like he needed something to do with his hands. “Are you hungry?”
Her stomach growled, and she grimaced. “I haven’t eaten since this morning.”
His smile returned, and something inside her unclenched. The release left her with the ability to take some deep breaths and be more at peace with this whole situation.
“Then it’s a good thing we’re going to lunch soon.” He motioned toward the rotisserie oven. “Would you like a taquito to hold you over?”
She pointed to the bag of pretzels. “Those will be fine for now.”
“You’re missing out.” His voice sounded lighter, like the bad mood cloud had moved on as quickly as it’d appeared. “Let’s buy some water bottles and leave.”
Since his arms were full of snack bags, she picked out a six-pack of water bottles and hooked it on his fingers so she could carry the cardboard tray of drinks.
Like earlier in the day, his arms were now full of her things.
Their gazes met, and just for a second, and her pulse jumped in response.
It was a long moment before she could nod toward the register.
Then she cleared her throat. “We should probably go. Don’t we have lunch plans?”
“Yeah,” Luke adjusted everything in his arms and walked toward the register. “You’re going to love this BBQ place in Middleburg.”
She hoped so because she was starving.
Outside the store, the heat hit like a wall, thick with early summer humidity. She squinted against the bright afternoon sun as they crossed the cracked pavement, moving toward Luke’s truck.
She balanced the drinks tray carefully while he carried the bags, their earlier conversation lingering in the quiet between them—until she heard loud voices and looked around.
In the gas pump bay next to where Luke had parked the truck, Mac and Charlie were talking to three men near a line of four parked motorcycles.
The three men wore leather cuts over their T-shirts, dirty jeans, and lots of tattoos.
One of the men, with long blond hair, straggly beard, and a face like a weathered stone, turned toward them.
When the biker’s gaze locked onto Luke, his eyes widened as if surprised. As if he recognized Luke.
Holly felt a strange tightening of the air. Not immediate danger, just something older and unspoken.
Luke’s steps slowed for half a second, long enough for her to notice. Then he picked up the pace again.
She nodded toward the bikes. “More friends of yours?”
“No.” he said, voice clipped, eyes forward.
She didn’t press. But when they reached the truck, she glanced over her shoulder again.
Now all four bikers were watching.
Once they loaded the bags into the truck, Holly couldn’t shake the sensation of being marked. And she stole another look.
The blonde biker stood with one hand resting on the chrome handlebar of a matte-black motorcycle, his other hand held a cigarette that burned between two fingers.
While the back of his cut wasn’t visible, one of the other bikers had turned away to talk to Mac, exposing the white patch of the Devil’s Renegades.
Even from this distance, the symbol of a death head and a raven riding a motorcycle stood out against the black leather like a threat.
Despite the heat, she shivered.
Luke opened her door, and Holly slid inside. Once he tossed the snacks into the back seat, he turned on the truck and she welcomed the blast of cold air.
“Don’t look back, Holly.” The hardness in his voice told her this wasn’t a request, but an order.
The truck rumbled away from the gas tanks, and when Luke turned left, she caught one final glance in the passenger side mirror. The biker was still watching. And this time, when their eyes met in the reflection, he smiled. A slow, knowing curl of his lips, like a secret kept too long.
Holly’s stomach tightened.
“Luke…” she began, hesitating. “Do you know those bikers?”
Luke’s hand tightened slightly on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. “Yes. And I don’t want to talk about it.”
Fair enough. It’s not like she was oversharing her life with him. At least this time when she checked the mirror, the rest stop was long gone.
Her stomach growled again, and Luke smiled. “Just open the pretzels. You’ll feel better.”
Agreeing, she found the pretzels, opened them on her lap, and placed her cranberry juice in the cup holder. Luke had gone silent again. So she ate, drank, and tried to appear calm and uninterested. But her mind was buzzing with questions.
She barely knew him. She had no right to question him about anything, especially his life, and any women, he’d walked away from.
And she certainly wasn’t ready to do a tell-all about her own life.
Not about her new job. Not about her new home.
Certainly not about her ex-husband and the hotel keycard she kept hidden in her purse.
He drove down the busy highway, and she tried not to stare at his powerful arms covered in tattoos. Maybe they weren’t so different. Maybe they were both running from something.
She glanced at his masculine, stubbled profile as he sped up to race through another yellow light. He headed west, toward the distant, water-colored mountains, away from the busy suburbs outside Washington, D.C.
She knew why she was running and where she was running to.
She’d spent months preparing for this new phase of her life and had worked out as many details as possible, even without her LV planner.
But she had the distinct feeling that Luke not only didn’t know the answers to those questions, he didn’t care about the dangers that waited when the road finally ended.