Chapter 8
Sterling
“So you spent the night—in the spare bedroom,” he asks disbelievingly. He knows that normally when I take a woman home, we don’t sleep separately. We don’t do much sleeping at all. I look at Holt and grunt in frustration.
“Jesus, Holt! I don’t fuck unconscious women. Besides, I don’t think I’m interested in her like that,” I say as I slide under the truck to drain the gas tank. He chuckles as he wipes his hands on a rag.
“Sounds to me like you are— she has you all turned around. If you weren’t interested in her, you wouldn’t have stayed the night and you sure as hell wouldn’t be her fucking chauffeur,” he is grinning to himself smugly.
“Shut up, you asshole. I can’t wait until it is your turn. I’m going to give you hell,” I grind out as I slide out.
“She is just a pain in the ass—I can’t figure her out,” I continue on frustratedly. “I don’t know anything about her, I have been in her presence for less than 12 hours for chrissakes. I’m sure I’ll lose interest,” I mutter.
Holt starts cackling loudly. “Sure you will, who are you trying to convince,” he asks as he pokes his head back underneath the hood. “Whoever fucked with this truck had no idea what they were doing,” he says.
He is right. It is a hack job. Not only did they try to cut the wires they also poured some shit into the gas tank. She is lucky that the battery died when it did, otherwise the tainted gas would have ruined her engine.
“It will take a couple days, but it is fixable,” I say simply. My mind is racing, why would someone fuck with this girl. She seemed harmless. Holt voices the thoughts running through my mind.
“So, is this girl into some shit she shouldn’t be,” he muses out loud. He drags one of the stools over and sits on it and looks at me. He runs and hand through his hair, which is a few shades lighter than mine, and his blue eyes glint in curiosity.
“I don’t think so, she doesn’t seem like the type, but I guess I don’t have all the facts yet,” I admit grudgingly.
“Well, we can’t let her handle it alone so you better figure your shit out soon brother,” Holt commented wryly. He was right, this wasn’t exactly something she could handle solo, and the local PD isn’t exactly helpful.
“I know, well when I pick her up this afternoon I’ll see if I can get some intel on the situation, she seemed shocked when I mentioned someone would fuck up her truck deliberately,” I shared with him.
“Where does she live anyway,” Holt questions. He is quirking his eyebrow at me. I know what he is thinking. He is wondering about security.
“A small neighborhood tucked away off of 68. About 15 miles away,” I explain tersely. I know it isn’t ideal. It isn’t a super populated area, and she isn’t exactly hyperaware of her surroundings. “It’s pretty quiet and it looks like some of her neighbors are seasonal.”
“So basically she is easy pickings,” he simplifies, once he hears my explanation. He crosses his arms in front of him, his tattoos moving with his bulging muscles. Holt has a small investigations and security company that he owns and runs.
“Can you have Carter run a background check on her— just in case,” I ask him. Carter is Holt’s business partner at the security company.
“Sure, but do you really want me to do that? What if she finds out that you are checking up on her,” he says with a warning tone in his voice.
“It’s for her own safety, I don’t expect anything unusual to come from this check— but it will help us rule out whatever is going on,” by the end of my explanation my teeth are clenched.
I’m not sure why I am so on edge. Holt pauses and looks at me for a second.
He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and hits a few buttons.
Putting the phone to his ear he waits a second.
“Carter, can you run a background check on someone for me? I need it by tomorrow morning. Pull out all the stops,” he says as he walks around to the passenger side of the truck. He opens the glove box and pulls out the registration.
“The name is Meg Wilson, license plate JCK4675, address 220 Lupine Circle,” he states calmly. “Thanks Carter, I’ll keep you posted,” he ends the call.
Walking back around he looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “I hope you know what you are doing, this may come back to bite you in the ass,” he states lightly.
I know what he means, I’m sure she won’t be happy that I am doing this without her permission.
I just know that I need to know more about her.
I swallow down the slight panic I feel about the potential of her being in danger.
Not sure where it is coming from. I don’t want to give myself time to analyze it either.
“Thanks, I think this will help us narrow down what the fuck is going on. I don’t want to waste any time on this,” I say as I toss the rag in my hands into the bin.
“I need to wrap it up here and head down to the hardware store. Got to fix a leak under her sink,” I explain. Holt begins to chuckle again.
“Just shut the hell up Holt,” I bite out. I know what he is thinking and I don’t want to entertain is ridiculous ideas about this. I’m having enough trouble with my own thoughts. I don’t need his shit.
“Well, you better hurry up and get to the hardware store. They close at 4 today. Old man Nickles is scaling back his weekend hours,” he needles. “I have to go and check on something for a client, let me know if you need more help with this beast later,” he gestures over his shoulder to the Bronco.
“Is this anything you need back-up for,” I ask him quietly. Holt usually deals with minor stuff, but every once in a while he calls me in to help him when the job is a bit more dangerous.
“Nah, just a small surveillance job for a client. It’s just a formality really,” he shrugs his shoulders and grabs his jacket. “I’ll be around if you need anything and I’ll let you know what Carter finds.
He makes his way out the door but stops midway and turns, “Don’t do anything stupid bro.
’’ He gives what I assume is the boy scout salute—neither one of us were ever in the scouts—and heads off towards his bike.
Shaking my head, I turn to clean up and shut things down.
It is close to 1:00 and I have to get going.