Tread: Biker Romance (Ronin MC Series Book 1) (3 page)

LEAVING HOME TURNED OUT TO
be the easy part. I feared I would have police out trolling the streets for my car, my face plastered on the nightly news. I watched obsessively from a hotel outside of Farmington, New Mexico for two days. After going through all of the envelopes, discarding the checks I couldn’t cash, and buying clothes and a toothbrush, I had one thousand and forty-five dollars to my name.

Hotels and gas were expensive, so I went on foot to try to find a job of some kind that paid under the table. My first was as a waitress, but it turned out I was not too savvy at gaining tips. After a week of backbreaking, foot aching labor, I had made a total of fifteen dollars.

Next, I tried the local animal shelter, a rundown place of brick and mortar that put down more animals than they saved. That was where I acquired a purebred English bulldog, who had heartworms and was allergic to everything under the sun. The money for medication was too much, they said. They fired me for taking her out of the euthanasia room, even after I offered to pay the adoption fee. It was then I decided it was time to move on.

Heading south was my only plan—a pretty picture of sandy beaches, and what distinctly sounded like Holly’s voice in my head telling me to get there.

I was disparaging my plan hours later, baking in the hot desert sun, my little car’s A/C unable to compete with the heat. There was nothing. Well, there were truckers, scrub brushes and the random mountaintop, but no towns, and I was low on gas.

For the first time since I had left, I prayed.

God had nothing to say to me, or my God hearing ear was nonexistent because I felt no pull in any direction, not that I had much choice but to go straight.

“Tell me what to do, Bella,” I ordered my silent companion. She was snoring, probably dreaming of the pork chops she had never tasted. She smacked her lips before sawing off again.

“I just want an adventure. A sign. Am I doing the right thing? Should I have stayed back there?” I glanced over, like I expected the dog to tell me, ‘Absolutely, Gracie. This will pay off, just you wait’.

Finally, I spotted an old sun-faded billboard advertising butter pecan frozen custard at the next exit—the first exit after a hundred miles with signs of life.

Biting my lip, I put on my blinker and slowly made my way down the turn off. At the stop sign, I looked both ways, not seeing anything but mesquite trees and barren land, so I crossed my fingers on both hands and hoped the billboard was pointing in the direction of the custard stand.

Twenty-seven long minutes later I was about to have an anxiety attack. There was nothing, anywhere. I hadn’t seen another car since leaving the highway.

Finally, I crested a hill and saw the makings of a town up ahead. At least I could turn around. The ditches on the side of the road were too steep for me to attempt before.

Passing a newer gas station, the second thing I saw looked to be the old gas station, but instead of pumps under the awning were picnic tables. There were no words on the ancient, peeling sign except the faded resemblance of an ice cream cone.

“I found it!” I yelled in the silent car, causing Bella to jolt awake with one last snort and slobbery shake of her jowls.

Pulling over, I opened my door and was immediately blasted with over one hundred-degree temperatures. I stretched, my stiff muscles making me realize I must have been driving for longer than I thought. There were a few kids at the little window of the shop, so I grabbed the dog’s leash and got behind them, smiling when they turned to look at me.

When it was my turn, I ordered a huge waffle cone filled with butter pecan frozen custard and the worker mentioned me it was only available once a week.

I felt lucky I saw the sign at the first spoonful and stifled a groan at the smoothness of the perfect custard.

Bella let out a pitiful whine, licking her sagging lips. I felt bad that she had to sit on the hot concrete, but at least we were in the shade. “No, baby. You’ll break out in hives. It’s really not all that good, I swear,” I lied to her.

A loud rumble brought my head up. I watched a huge pickup truck with big lights on the top of it bounce as it hit the uneven parking lot. I nibbled on my waffle cone and watched as three girls tumbled out of the monstrosity, giggling and pushing each other.

My back straightened unconsciously when I noted they were the kind of girls that had made fun of me my whole life, except for Holly. The homecoming queens and the cheerleaders. I ate my custard slowly, and took a little white plastic spoon to eat the melted parts, conspicuously watching the women in their tight workout clothes with envy. Why couldn’t I be like that? I bet they made amazing tips. I shuddered at the thought and stood, throwing my trash away. I loaded up my dog and got in the car. Immediately the car dinged, telling me I was low on gas.

When I pulled out, the big truck almost ran my little car over it reversed so fast. I slammed on the brakes and held my chest at the near accident. A girl waved her hand out the window, I assumed in apology, and pulled out into the street. I was right behind them, but when I pulled away from the custard stand, my car lurched then came to a dead stop. Hard.

I screamed, my tires squealed, and I barely stopped my nose from breaking on the steering wheel. My hand automatically flew to the side, preventing Bella from hitting the dash as she yelped. I stared, frozen as an oncoming car slammed on it’s brakes to avoid hitting me.

Suddenly, there was a flock of women running in the road. The blonde—one of the three—talked to the driver, and then I lost her from my sight when black Lycra filled my window.

She scowled and I didn’t know what she wanted me to do. She opened the door and I jolted back away from her.

“Hey, kid. You gotta put the car in neutral so we can get it out of the road.”

“Huh?” I asked stupidly.

She sighed. “Get out.”

I looked down at my seatbelt then to the shifter before putting the car in park and setting the emergency break, making the redhead snort. When I got out of the car, she called to another of her friends.

“Tatum. Get in here to steer. I think the kid’s in shock or somethin’.”

The blonde walked away and the Latina passed me.

“Why it’s always gotta be me? I got guns, chica. Don’t even play like you don’t know,” she said with a Spanish accent that wasn’t there until then. It set her friends off, both of them laughing until Tatum rolled her eyes and chuckled.

The blonde with her hair in French braided pigtails and a willowy red head made their way to me, but didn’t talk
to me
. Just
about me
.

“What? Are we gonna take her to the shop?”

“That’s what we’ve gotta do. We can’t leave her here.”

“The guys aren’t gonna like it. They get back tonight.”

“They don’t have a choice.”

“Do you think it’s a quick fix? Maybe you can have her on her way before they get in.”

The redhead sighed. “I don’t know, Kit. If it’s the transmission, she’s going to need a whole new one. We don’t have the parts for an import.”

“Nobody needs a tranny more than this chick, Marley.” The blonde snickered and elbowed her friend as the whole group laughed. My jaw clenched as I tried to keep it from falling to the ground in embarrassment. I swallowed thickly and knew I was completely out of my league with these girls.

They were the popular ones, and I was the mouse in the corner people didn’t realize was there until they stumbled out from behind the bleachers and tripped over me. I was the ultimate good girl. I was even wearing a church donated t-shirt for crying out loud. It was beige.

“We don’t really have a choice. We can’t leave her out in the middle of the road.” Marley sighed. “Help me push the car then we’ll go get the tow truck.”

I stood, mute as the girls got to work moving my car from the road.

“Hey, Minnie Mouse! You wanna help us or get run over?” the Latina of the group, Tatum, said from the driver’s seat of my car. I jolted forward and tried to find space on my trunk to put my hands so that I could push.

As I leaned my weight into the hot metal, I noticed how toned the girl’s arms were that was next to me as I pushed with all of my might.

When my old Hyundai Accent was finally on the shoulder, I was soaking with sweat and positive I looked like a drowned dog, while the girls were glistening and rosy cheeked. It only made my mood worse.

“All right, Minnie, we’re going to get the tow. You gonna be okay here?” Marley asked. I nodded, still mute. She tossed her keys then snatched them out of the air. “Should be ten minutes or so. You might want to find some shade or something. This sun is brutal.”

My eyes lowered into a glare as I watched the big truck speed away in a cloud of exhaust and rumble of a big engine. I sighed, pulled my purse from my car, grabbed my newfound dog’s leash, then locked the door. If there was a plus side to my car breaking down, it was that it happened ten feet away from a frozen custard stand.

Licking my second cone in an hour, I scowled at the delicious treat and blamed its goodness for my troubles. Bella panted next to me, her big brown eyes saying, ‘gimme a taste’.

“Sorry, pup. You’re allergic.”

So much for a sign.

I WATCHED, MESMERIZED
AS MARLEY’S
keys swung from the ignition as we drove down the road.

“So you own a car care center?” I asked, my first words spoken to the Amazon.

Her auburn eyebrows shot up and she smirked at me. “So you can speak. I was starting to wonder.” I looked down and felt my cheeks heating. “No. I don’t own the garage. I just run it while the boys are out of town.”

“Boys?”

She looked at me out of the corner of her eye and gave a little shrug. “Yeah, well. We’re hoping to get you out of here before they show up. Don’t worry about anything.”

By that, I took it to mean that I should be worried. Holy Hannah, what had I gotten myself into?

Marley parked the huge tow truck like a pro and hopped down, so I scrambled to do the same. It was a long jump for me and I stumbled. When I straightened, I noticed the other girls getting out of the truck covering their mouths and turning away, but I saw them laughing.

My shoulders sank knowing what I must have looked like. “Thanks for the tow, Marley. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible, I promise.”

“What’s your name, kid?”

“My name is Grace. I’m twenty-one, by the way. Not a kid,” I said through gritted teeth, getting more than annoyed.

Marley shook my hand, her grip strong; the muscles in her arms flexed noticeably. I made a mental note to not have mine be a wet noodle next time. “Experience goes a long way,” she said, ignoring my hostility. “It’s good to meet you, Grace. Go on with Kit to the bar. You’ll be safe there for a while. I’m gonna check under your hood.” She winked and walked away, leaving me on the faded, cracked asphalt. The heat waves were visible all around me. I wondered if this was what hell felt like.

Turning in a circle, I saw the blonde holding a door open and forced my feet towards her, pulling Bella along. Her paws had to be sizzling. There was an abandoned hotel to the side, two-stories high with a derelict pool behind a weed-ridden fence. It made me uncomfortable.

Kit eyed the dog for what seemed like an eternity then sighed and waved us in with a muttered “Whatever.” We passed freezers and storage pantries before coming into a loud kitchen.

Pots and pans banged sporadically, and I tightened my grip on the leash as Bella stuck her short nose to the ground.

“Veesa, this is Grace. She broke down at Kate’s.”

The middle-aged woman looked up, her hair in a net, her hands in latex gloves as she wielded the biggest knife I’d ever seen. She eyed me up and down then glared at Kit with a disapproving look. “Kit.”

The word was enough for the younger woman’s shoulders to rise in defense. “It was Marley’s idea. She’ll have her out in time.”

Veesa shook her head in displeasure then went back to slicing whatever was on the chopping block. I followed closely behind Kit, not wanting to be left alone with this
Veesa
.

We walked through swinging doors and past the restrooms, coming out beside the bar.

“You want a drink or somethin’?” Kit asked me.

“Uh. Do you have Sprite?”

“Holy shit.” Kit turned to the bar, scooped ice into a glass then shot a hose looking thing into it while pushing a button. When she slammed the glass down, it only spilled a few drops onto the polished wood of the bar top. “Do me a favor. If anyone is in here, you ask for a Sprite and vodka.”

My eyebrows lowered in confusion. “Why? I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Honey.” Kit did a great impersonation of Veesa with that word. “The way you dress, the way you act, that damn cross around your neck. You scream virgin. The men who come around here love blood more than just about anything.”

My eyes widened to the point of pain and I whispered in shock, “Like a shark?”

Kit smirked and wiped the spill of soda with a tired looking dishtowel. “No, Grace, like a psychopath.”

I swallowed and almost choked on my own spit, so I decided not to chance a sip of the drink just yet. Kit tossed down her towel.

“As soon as Tatum comes down, I’ve got to get in the shower. I’m not leaving you alone for a second.” Kit wiped her sweaty forehead and shook her head. I was glad, though. I didn’t want anything to do with psychopaths, and I sure didn’t want to be
alone
with any of them.