Chapter 9 Lyle
Lyle
My hand rests on the small of Valentine’s back as we head downstairs. I can feel the ridges of her scars through the thin cotton of her shirt.
There better be a good explanation for how she got those scars. Fiancé or not, if he’s hurt Valentine, then he’s going to pay.
We head outside where a man in a flannel and dark jeans leans casually against the side of a pickup truck. His greasy hair hangs to one side and he’s chewing on a toothpick, the stalk poking out of the side of his mouth.
He smiles widely when he sees Valentine. His eyes dart over her body in an appraising look that makes my blood boil.
“I’ve been looking all over for you, Abigail.”
Abigail. I roll the name over in my mind, but it doesn’t suit the quiet and sweet woman I’ve gotten to know. I keep my hand on Valentine’s back, watching her closely.
At the foreign sounding name, her face scrunches up in confusion, and I guess she’s looking for the memories the name and the man might trigger.
“Well, aren’t you gonna come on over here and give me a hug?”
He opens his arms, and Valentine steps forward hesitantly.
“Come on then, girl. We got some catching up to do.”
She looks back at me, then back at the man, confusion written all over her face. I want to pull her back to me. I want to hold onto her and never let her go. But if this is her past, then I need to give her a chance to find out who she is.
“I bought you some flowers.”
He reaches into the cab and pulls out a bunch of gas station flowers. The stems are wilted, and there’s not a dahlia in sight. Surely her fiancé would know to bring her favorite flowers.
“Well, come on, then. The wedding’s next week, and everyone’s been going crazy with worry.”
He gives a wide smile and takes a step toward her.
“I don’t remember,” Valentine whispers. And I hear the frustration in her voice.
“It don’t matter, honey. We’ll go back to the house and it’ll all come back to you.”
He takes a step forward. Valentine takes a step back. She swallows nervously, and a vein in her neck pulses. The old fear is coming back, I can sense it in her.
“How’d she get those scars on her back?”
I step forward so I’m between the man and Valentine. The man smiles at me warily.
“Abigail’s had those scars ever since I knew her. She came from a foster family.” He looks down at his hands and fists them in a show of anger.
“One of those families didn’t treat her so good. It’s a blessing she can’t remember.”
It could be true. The scars look to be several years old. She was probably fourteen or so when she got them. But something doesn’t feel right about this guy.
“How about the bump on her head?”
He blinks quickly, and his smiling masks drops for an instant—but only an instant.
“Must have been in the accident. We had an accident last Monday night out on the coastal highway. I was knocked unconscious and woke up in the hospital two days later. By that point, no one knew where Abigail had gone. She must have been thrown from the car. I been going sick with worry looking for her.”
As he talks, the toothpick goes up and down in his mouth, giving him a casualness that I don’t like. If I lost Valentine in an accident, I wouldn’t sleep until I found her. He’s talking about her like he lost a pair of shoes.
“Which hospital?”
The concerned look plastered on his face falters. Then he names a local hospital.
The guys from the club have come out, forming a protective v shape around Valentine. I love them for that. They’ve got her back, and whatever happens here, I can count on them.
My gaze meets Kray’s, and he gives me a nod and slips inside the building. He’ll put in a call to our contacts at the hospital, and we’ll soon find out if there’s any truth in what this guy’s saying.
“Why did it take you so long to find me?”
I’m proud to see Valentine stepping forward and not cowering, but it worries me too.
I might be about to see her drive off with this guy, although I won’t let that happen until I’m absolutely sure of him.
Even then, I’ll follow them home. The thought makes me shudder. I’m not ready to give up Valentine.
He pulls his brow together, giving a good impression of the concerned fiancé.
“I tried all the hospitals in the state and the police. I thought you’d turn up.
It wasn’t until yesterday when I was having a slice of pie at the Rosey Diner that I overheard one of the waitresses talking about it.
Said there was a woman who couldn’t remember anything who was staying with some bike gang. ”
The guys behind me shift uncomfortably at the use of the word “gang,” but this guy’s too stupid to notice.
“You found out yesterday? But you didn’t come until this morning?”
If Valentine was my woman, I’d have ridden straight here for her. This asshole doesn’t deserve her, and I’m still not convinced he’s not the man who hurt her.
He shrugs. “I heard she was in safe hands.”
I don’t buy it. Every instinct in me tells me this asshole’s lying. But Valentine takes a step toward him.
He meets her halfway, and they stare at each other. A slow smile spreads over his face that has a hint of cruelty in it.
“You really don’t remember anything, do you, honey?”
The smile doesn’t reach his eyes. In fact, it dissolves into a chuckle. He reaches a hand for her, and Valentine flinches.
That’s all I need to spur me into action.
Valentine turns away from him, and he lays a hand on her shoulder, making her gasp as his spindly fingers dig into her skin.
“Get in the truck, now.”
In one stride, I’m at her side, pulling his greasy hands off her. Pans and Jesse are with me, and they pin him against his pickup while I get Valentine the hell out of there.
“Don’t make me go with him, please. Don’t make me go.”
She leans into me, sobbing into my chest as I usher her toward the clubhouse.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” I pull her close to me, closing my arms around her. “No one’s gonna make you do anything. If you want to stay here with me, then you do that.”
She sobs a ragged breath, her body deflating into me.
“Do you remember him?”
“No. But the flannel shirt…” She wipes her eyes and looks up, all confusion. “When I got close enough, I could smell grease, and the panic, the fear in my stomach rose up. I don’t remember him, but I think my body does.”
It makes sense. If her instincts about him are right, then there’s no way he’s leaving here unharmed.
There’re shouts behind us as the asshole struggles against my guys.
“What are you doing, asshole? I came for Abigail.”
Kray comes out of the clubhouse shaking his head. “No record of an accident or a hospital stay for a man who fits his description.”
I don’t know how Valentine got that bump on her head or what she was doing on the highway, but it didn’t happen the way he tells it.
“I didn’t think so.”
“What do you want us to do with him?” Pans asks.
“Tie him up in the garage. Find out who he is and who Valentine really is.”
Pans nods solemnly. When there’s dirty work to be done, he’s the man for it. He’ll get the answers that we need.
I lead Valentine into the clubhouse and away from whatever sick past tried to claim her. Her future is here, with me, and that’s all that matters.