Her hands were still shaking. She hated that her hands were still shaking. As she parked the car in the farm’s parking lot and forced herself to get out a terrible sense of déjà vu swept over her. It was the same as earlier that very morning. The same feeling of anxiety, but for a different reason now.
She’d been so afraid that Honey would be there, that she would accidentally run into him. Well, she’d done a whole lot more than that. And what’s more. She’d been happy to see him. Wait, no. Happy is too strong of a word. Not disappointed, maybe? And that thought only made her nerves fire all over again. Because when she was around Honey, when he looked at her with those dark, burning mysterious eyes of his, she could feel it happening. She could feel herself losing control. And she hated it.
Not again. She wouldn’t let it happen again. She just…well, she would just have to work harder at avoiding him. Elle nodded firmly to herself, trying to strengthen her resolve. Yep, she would just…not see him anymore. If that’s what it took, then that’s what she would do.
With that thought held firmly in her mind she threw her shoulders back and strode into the office. And immediately froze.
“…I understand, Wheels–”
“With all do respect, sugar, I don’t really think you do,” Hot Wheels interrupted Carla mid-sentence and it was obvious to Elle that she had just walked head on into a heated argument between the two. Although it seemed that neither of the other women were aware that she was there.
“What do you want me to do, Hot Wheels? I told you! I want this place to be legit. It has to be legit. I’m not about to let some gang of low life bikers–”
“Low life bikers! Is that how you see him?”
“Him?”
“Them. I mean them. Don’t change the subject, Carla. Is it? Is that what you think of us?”
“No, of course not!” Carla shot back just as heatedly. Elle opened her mouth to say something, to announce her presence, anything, but her friend kept right on talking, “That’s not what I meant, Hot Wheels. I didn’t mean you.”
“Oh, so you were talking about some other gang of low life bikers, was that it sugar? Well, you better get your damn story straight because I sure as hell can’t!”
“Please, Hot Wheels, I just need–I need help. They keep…I keep getting phone calls. In the middle of the day, in the middle of the night. Threats. They all want us to sell to them so they can deal it under the table, but I can’t–no, I won’t! I won’t do it!”
“And I’m not asking you to! The other gangs are getting nervous, Carla. Just, hear him out. Sparkplug has a lot of ideas–”
“A lot of ideas I’m not interested in, Hot Wheels. Your job was to tell them that. To make sure that they backed off…”
Carla’s words trailed off as she collapsed in to the chair, her voice still raised and Elle carefully, as quietly as she could, backed out of the office the way that she’d come in. Her thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the argument. She could still hear their shouts even as she walked around the side of the offices and headed towards the greenhouse. Not that she knew what to do there. Elle just wanted away from the argument. Confrontation always made her nervous.
Ever since she was a little kid it had bothered her. Any sort of fight, any sort of tension. It made her anxiety spike almost as much as being in large crowds did and that was enough to make her palms sweat and her heart race like it was trying to gallop out of her chest.
Her thoughts were still tangled up on what she’d overheard but as she reached for the greenhouse door, just pulling it open, a sudden noise stopped her. It was soft at first, a rumbling that grew into a roar that split through the air like a knife as it drew closer and closer. It was a sound that she had become unfortunately familiar with in the past year. It was the sound of a motorcycle engine revving down the highway, and then down the drive towards the farm, where she was still standing out in the open just staring.
Elle quickly ducked behind the door, moving more from instinct than any real fear but she was glad she did when the bike finally rolled to a sputtering stop next to her compact car. It was black. Or it used to be, before rust and scratches had marred its gleaming surface and it was obvious that it had been crashed more than once.
She raised her gaze slowly, holding her breath as she peaked out from behind the edge of the greenhouse opening. The motorcycle’s owner was in no better shape than his ride in a beat up leather jacket. At first glance it looked like every other jacket the members of the Dirty Cruisers wore but she tilted her head to one side as she noticed it. There was something wrong with it. The patches weren’t the same.
He was still too far away for her to see what they were but she could tell at that distance that they were definitely different. And that meant this guy wasn’t a member of the Dirty Cruisers, at least she was fairly certain, and that meant that he didn’t belong there. But that still begged the question. What, exactly, was he doing there?
It didn’t take long for him to answer her question when instead of heading in the direction of the office, where the sound of voices were still audible, he went the opposite way. Suspicious, Elle thought to herself. Very suspicious.
She watched him for a long moment as he walked slowly, obviously trying not to draw anyone’s attention and Elle shrank even further behind her hiding spot. But her eyes still tracked him as he moved around, poking around the barrels and bins that were lined up in front of the large building. Elle barely held back a snort of laughter as he lifted one of the lids and sniffed, jerking away with a gasp. The only thing he was going to find in there was the compost and manure and she knew for a fact just how bad it smelled.
Next, he headed for the tool shed that had been left swinging open and Elle sent a hasty look over her shoulder towards the office. She prayed silently that someone else, anyone else would notice the intruder and come out and deal with him but as time passed and no one else appeared it became obvious. No one was coming. It was just her.
With a sigh of resignation, her stomach twisting into tight, painful knots, she looked back towards the spot he’d just been and jumped in surprise. He was gone. What the heck? Where had he disappeared too?
Elle moved before she could give herself time to second guess herself. She pushed open the door and strode in the direction he’d taken…except that he was there. Elle bit her lip in frustration. He’d been there just a second ago. Where could he have gone too? And more importantly, what was that scoundrel up to? Because scoundrel he certainly was, of that she had no doubt.
Elle took off at a trot around the side of the greenhouse. Maybe she could catch up with him around the back but as soon as she turned the corner she halted with a shriek.
“Ahh!”
Wait a minute. That shriek hadn’t belonged to her!
“You! You…stop right this instant!” she said sternly, using her best teacher voice, the one that she had to use when her students that were particularly recalcitrant and it worked just as well on the intruder as it did on them. He jerked to a halt, throwing up his hands and as he turned around to face her Elle thought he might just be more surprised by her appearance than she herself was.
“Hey lady, I don’t want no trouble.”
“Any,” Elle bit off the word, glancing quickly over her shoulder as adrenaline hit her hard.
“What?”
“You don’t want any trouble.”
“That’s what I said,” the biker said and now that Elle got a closer look at him she hastily revised her initial impression of him. He was actually in much worse shape than his rust bucket of a bike.
“No,” Elle said slowly, as if talking to a child, “You said you don’t want no trouble. Which in fact means that you do want trouble. That what you don’t want is the absence of trouble.”
He stared at her blankly for a long moment, his greasy hair falling into his face as he shook his head in confusion.
“What the hell are you talking about? That don’t make no sense.”
Elle sighed at his words, “No, it’s not–” she cut off her own attempt to correct him again. She didn’t even know why she was trying. It was obviously hopeless. “Listen, I just wanted to give you a head start.”
“A head start for what?” he asked, looking at her suspiciously now and she firmed her expression, making it as serious and harsh as she could.
“A head start before the police get here.”
“The pigs?”
“They saw you. In the office. Sneaking around. The cops are on the way as we speak so I suggest you leave before they get here. I’m just letting you know out of the goodness of my heart.”
He cast a nervous glance behind her, towards where the road was that led to the farm before turning back to her.
“You sure?”
“Positive,” Elle said, praying that he would believe her. He didn’t seem bright enough to believe she’d lie to him, “I overheard the call myself. They were dispatching three squad cars as we speak.”
“Three?” he squeaked, “There weren’t supposed to be no cops.”
“Wasn’t. There wasn’t– you know what, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you need to go, now, before they get here.” Elle stared at him, shooing at him with her hands when he still didn’t move, “Well? Go! Now!”
The intruder cast her one last wide eyed, slightly confused look before rushing at her. Elle froze, every muscle tensing in her body, but he didn’t stop. He ran right past her and didn’t stop until he reached his motorcycle and then a moment later the sound of an engine roaring to life once more filled the air. But it was soon gone, disappearing along with the rest of her bravado and she collapsed in a quivering heap against the side of greenhouse.