Chapter Seven #2
“Gas station. Grocery store. Once when I was leaving a diner. It could’ve been nothing.”
“What else?”
I looked down at the blanket.
“Ramona.”
“One of my tires got slashed.”
Ashland didn’t say anything. That was somehow worse than if he’d started yelling. “It could’ve been some asshole kid.”
“Your RV got broken into, you started getting followed, and then somebody slashed your tire.”
“When you put everything together…”
“That’s generally how shit works.”
I frowned at him. “Do you want me to tell you or not?”
“Keep going.”
I blew out a breath. “Someone got into the RV again.”
His entire body went still.
“This time I knew I hadn’t left it unlocked.”
“What’d they take?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“What’d they do?”
“They searched it.”
“What do you mean, searched it?”
“I mean they tossed everything. Cabinets open. Clothes pulled out. Mattress moved. Stuff dumped on the floor. It looked like someone was trying to find something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“You sure?”
I frowned. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Did you take anything from the campground?”
“No.”
“Files?”
“No.”
“Paperwork?”
“No.”
“Computer?”
“I don’t have their computer, Ashland,” I drawled.
“Flash drive?”
“No.”
“Anything?”
“I took my purse, my clothes, my coffee maker, and the rest of the crap I already owned.”
He watched me for a long second.
“I didn’t steal anything,” I insisted.
“Didn’t say you did.”
“You were giving me the interrogation face.”
“I have an interrogation face?”
“Yes.”
“What does it look like?”
“Like that.”
He almost smiled. “What’d you do after the second break-in?”
“Left.”
“Immediately?”
“Pretty much.”
“And drove here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?” There was no humor in his voice now.
I’d known that question was coming. I looked down at my hands.
“Ramona.”
“Because I didn’t know where else to go.”
His expression changed slightly.
I shook my head. “That’s not exactly true. I could’ve gone a lot of places. I could’ve found another campground. I could’ve stayed in a hotel somewhere. I could’ve called Clint.”
“But you came here.”
“Yes.”
“To me.”
“Yes.”
His eyes stayed on mine.
I swallowed. “When things started getting weird, I kept thinking it would stop. I quit. I wasn’t around the campground anymore. Whatever my boss was doing wasn’t my problem.”
I shrugged. “But then the RV got broken into again, and somebody was obviously looking for something. I didn’t know what the hell was going on anymore.”
“So you came to Skull Island.”
“I figured showing up at a place run by a motorcycle club would probably discourage anyone from following me.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “That was a solid plan.”
“It wasn’t terrible.”
“Didn’t say it was.”
I leaned back slightly. “Besides, I figured nobody would be stupid enough to follow me onto an island full of bikers.”
Ash’s smile disappeared.
I noticed. “What?”
“Nothing.”
That didn’t sound good. I studied his face. “How much trouble is my boss in?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know.”
“If somebody finds out what he’s doing.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “Probably a lot.”
“Police?”
“Possibly.”
“IRS?”
“Probably.”
“Owners?”
“He is the owner.”
Ash grunted.
“I honestly don’t know, Ashland. I know enough to know whatever he was doing wasn’t legal. If someone actually dug through everything, I don’t think anything good would happen to him.”
“And you know where to look.”
I frowned.
“You’re the one who noticed the numbers.”
“I guess.”
“So he knows you know.”
I hadn’t really thought about it like that. I shifted on the bed. “Maybe.”
“Not maybe.”
“Well, I’m here now.” I shrugged. “So just coming here probably solved my problem.”
Ash stared at me.
“What?”
He continued staring.
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like I’m an idiot.”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot.”
“Your face says otherwise,” I grumbled.
“My face says your problem isn’t solved because you drove across a bridge.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Annoyingly, he had a point. I hated when people did that. I pushed my hair away from my face. “Fine. We’ll say my problem is temporarily paused.”
“Better.” He adjusted himself against the headboard, and I saw the flash of discomfort he tried to hide.
“So.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Now you can tell me what’s going on with Skull Island.”
Ash’s expression went blank.
I smiled. “Your turn.”
“No.”
My smile disappeared. “What?”
“That’s enough talking for now.”
I stared at him. “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope.”
“You just spent the last twenty minutes interrogating me.”
“Wasn’t twenty minutes.”
“That isn’t the point,” I insisted.
“My throat hurts.”
My mouth snapped shut.
Ash smiled.
“You asshole.”
“Works every time.”
“You’re using your injury to get out of answering me.”
“Absolutely.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s dirty.”
“Never said I fought fair.”
I pointed at him. “You promised you’d tell me.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“Later.”
“You know, I said that to you yesterday, and you didn’t like it.”
“I remember.”
“So you understand why I’m annoyed.”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And I don’t care.”
I glared at him.
He looked entirely too pleased with himself.
“You are still the most irritating man I’ve ever met.”
“Twenty years and nobody beat me?”
“Congratulations.” I hadn’t met anyone like Ashland.
“Thanks.”
I shook my head.
Ash shifted toward the edge of the bed. “Let’s go see what Piney cooked for breakfast.”
“You’re seriously changing the subject?”
“Yep.”
“And after breakfast?”
“Thought you wanted to get me moving.”
I glanced at his legs beneath the blanket. “I did.”
“Then after breakfast, we can get some physical therapy in.”
Something about the way he said physical therapy made my eyes lift to his.
He was looking at me. There was something in his expression I hadn’t seen before. Or maybe I hadn’t let myself see it.
My stomach did a strange little flip. I cleared my throat. “Actual physical therapy.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Yes,” I insisted. “Walking. Exercises. Normal things.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“What’d you think I meant?”
My eyes narrowed. “Don’t start.”
His mouth curved into a slow smile. Oh, that was new.
“Breakfast,” I announced.
“Sounds good.” Ashland pushed the blankets away, and then I forgot what the hell I was doing.
He was wearing nothing but boxer briefs.
Yesterday I’d seen him in clothes. Hospital clothes. Jeans. T-shirts. Things that covered most of him.
This was different. Very different.
My eyes landed on his chest before I could stop them.
Tattoos covered his skin. Some I recognized as club ink even though I didn’t know what all of it meant. Others disappeared around his ribs and over his shoulders. His body wasn’t what I remembered from twenty years ago.
There was muscle beneath the tattoos, even after however long he’d spent in a hospital bed. His stomach wasn’t carved into some ridiculous set of perfect abs, but it was solid, and the dark hair trailing down from his stomach disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs.
Oh, shit.
My eyes moved back up too slowly. Ashland was watching me.
Fuck.
His eyebrow lifted and I immediately looked at his face.
He smiled. Not the little half-smile he’d been giving me all morning.
A real one. A knowing one. “You good?” he rasped.
“Fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.”
His smile grew.
I shook my head like that could somehow erase the last ten seconds from existence. I’d just checked out Ashland Moore. Bob. Whatever the hell I was supposed to call him.
I’d liked what I’d seen. A lot.
I stepped back and pointed toward the door. “Breakfast and some exercising sounds good.”
Ash swung his legs over the side of the bed. His eyes stayed on me. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Sounds real good.”