Whoever this guy was, he was big. He looked a lot like the kind of guy I tried as hard as hell to stay away from. Which meant he was as tall, as tattooed, and as muscled as Scooter. And the last thing I wanted right now was another Scooter Stone in my life.

I eyed up the guy that towered over me before seeing Jimmy pop his head out from behind the bar. Shit. I hadn’t known he was working tonight. Knowing him, he’d call Scooter and let the whole gang know I’d come running in here from the rain.

“I’m telling you, man,” Jimmy said again to the hunk of a man standing before me. “You should just sit right back down. I’ll give you another whiskey, this one on the house. How does that sound? Look, I’m pouring it now.”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” the guy finally said, his voice rumbling in his chest. I took a deep breath at his words. He didn’t sound like he was from anywhere near here. His accent was pretty plain with a hint of Brooklyn or someplace like that. Most people in Carlsville had a drawling Southern twang that was impossible to miss. And if this guy wasn’t from here…he was probably the best person to get me out of this mess. He wouldn’t know or care what I’d done to Scooter.

I glanced over my shoulder and swallowed. They’d be out there looking for me. I only had so much time before they reached the bar. “Some guys are after me. They’re out there looking, and it won’t take them long to get here.”

The guy frowned. “Why are they after you?”

Jimmy crossed his arms over his chest, but I tried to ignore him. Of course he’d be on Scooter’s side. They’d grown up in the same year at school, from elementary to middle school to high school. They were permanent fixtures in this town, and they were loyal to a fault. That’s why I’d had to get the hell out of this place, and why I never should have come back. At least not on my own.

Shouts sounded from outside the door, and my heart seized in my chest. I whirled around, my eyes searching for anywhere to hide in this godforsaken hole in the wall. Bear’s Bar & Grill was an old familiar haunt from high school, but it no longer felt so welcoming. The jukebox squatted in the corner, menacing and cold. The rows and rows of spirits stared at me from the dark shadows behind the bar. And Jimmy just scowled at me. I was the traitor. The girl who had turned her back on them all, on this place, on everything I knew and loved.

But I’d had a damn good reason.

The tattooed muscle guy waved his hand at me and half-turned to Jimmy. “Is there a back door to this place?”

Jimmy frowned and kept his stance firm and strong. My heart sunk. He wasn’t going to help. After everything I’d done, this was Carlsville’s way of getting back at me. No one who’d been around any amount of time would dare reach out a hand to stop Scooter Stone from coming after me.

“Jimmy, please,” I said, rushing over to the bar. My hands shook as I palmed the scratched top where I’d taken drink after drink over the years. “He’ll beat the shit out of me. Worse, maybe. If not him, one of the other guys will. They want to get rid of me once and for all.”

Jimmy’s face went pale, and he closed his eyes. “Fuck, Rosie. Okay fine, but don’t you dare tell them I helped you.”

Jimmy jerked his thumb toward a door leading into the back while his eyes stayed glued to the front of the bar. Any minute now, Scooter and his boys would come bursting in here. And I’d be shit out of luck, no matter what anyone did. “Go through there. Door’s down the hall and to the left. Make sure no one sees you when you leave.”

“Come on,” the tattoo guy said, grabbing my arm with one hand while he tipped back a shot of whiskey with the other. For a moment, I thought about wriggling out of his grasp. I’d gotten the help I’d come for. I had a way to slither out into the darkness before the guys figured out where I’d gone. But I knew I might need more help before the night was over. And while this tank of a man was a little bit intimidating, I could sure as hell use someone like that right now.

The guy kicked open the door and pulled me inside just as the front of the bar exploded into noise. Shouts echoed through the thin door, and the sound of breaking glass rattled my nerves even more. Panting, I glanced up at this strange man who’d decided to help me. His face was a mask of calm, his lips thin, his body straight and tall.

“Where the hell is she, Jimmy? I know she came this way,” a voice yelled. One I’d have recognized anywhere. It was Scooter. Even though it had been three months since I’d heard his familiar deep drawl, it felt like it had been only yesterday. A small part of my heart squeezed, and I had to close my eyes to block out the memories begging to pour into my mind.

A heavy hand fell onto my shoulder, and I flinched, the reality of the present crashing down around me. Tattoo guy jerked his head toward the back door, and I gave a nod, following him toward the safety of the night.

When we cracked open the door, a gust of wind sent slanted rain onto our heads. Frowning, he wrapped his strong arm around my shaking shoulders and pulled me into the storm. My shoes sloshed as we ran through puddles, ducking into the shadows at the back of Bear’s Bar before rounding the side of the building with slow and quiet steps.

There were pickup trucks everywhere, and several of Scooter’s guys still stood under the overhanging roof out front, pacing in the mud and scowling into the rain. They were looking for me, and chills ran along my skin at how close I was to getting caught. All they had to do was look this way, and they would probably see us skulking around in the dark.

Tattoo guy edged back from the corner and pointed at the building next door, a small, dingy motel that only serviced ten rooms, whose usual clientele were truck drivers in need of a bed. These were the only two businesses for a couple of miles, situated right off the interstate exit. My mom’s house was in a small neighborhood half a mile away, but that’s where I’d just come from, and I knew right now I couldn’t go back.

This guy must be staying in that motel, I realized. That’s why he was in the bar in the first place. I shook my head, but he either couldn’t see my reaction through the rain or he didn’t give a damn what I wanted to do. With his arm still tight around my shoulders, he led me further into the shadows, away from Scooter and his guys, and toward his motel room.

My heart thumped hard as I took another glance up at his face. Either this was the best idea in the world or the worst.