Robby showed up in his greasy, sweaty shirt, a thick cigar in his mouth, and took a look at the situation. He surveyed the scene and didn’t get to work until he took the cigar out of his mouth and balanced it on the side of the tow truck. To him, he was a surgeon in that moment, working with precision to not damage the broken-down car.

He hooked the car and with the press of a button, the front of the car lifted up and pulled toward the truck. Robby stood with one leg up, eyes wide, like he was a five year old kid seeing a dump truck for the first time.

Once he got the car where he wanted it, he stopped, looked at me with a nod, and told me I could meet him at the garage.

We shook hands and he climbed into the truck and drove off with a puff of diesel exhaust.

That’s when I looked at Bella.

She had no ride. Except me.

How fucking crazy my day turned out to be.

This woman was on the run. I wasn’t a damn fool, but when she took two bags out of the trunk of the car, I knew what was going on. I knew what it was like to pack some shit in a fury and get out of a situation. Not to mention she already said she had no destination.

Her bags on the side of the road where her car used to be. She just stood there, without a care. She was probably terrified on the inside but didn’t want to show it to me.

“I’ll give you a ride into town,” I said.

“On the back of a motorcycle?” Bella asked.

“Unless you want to walk, darlin’.”

“I have bags.”

“A woman with baggage,” I said. “That’s actually my specialty.”

“That’s so funny,” Bella said with a scowl. “Seriously.”

“I’m being serious,” I said. “You either ride or walk. It’s your damn choice. I did my part here.”

“Your part?” she asked. “So, what, you’re some kind of hero?”

“What was your plan then?”

Bella raised an eyebrow. “You do realize I have a cell phone, right? I could have called anyone for help.”

“But you didn’t,” I said, stepping closer to her. “You sat on the hood of your car, crying. Now, I haven’t asked a damn thing about that. I’m just trying to help.”

She stared at me. She looked like she wanted to slap me. Which she could do. I wouldn’t give a damn. Although, slapping me wouldn’t fix a thing for her. She’d still be lost. Her car would still be broken down.

“I don’t even know where I’m going,” she confessed. “Even if my car was working.”

“Sounds like you need a ride more than ever,” I said.

I wasn’t exactly sure what that comment was supposed to imply.

I stepped back and patted the seat of my motorcycle. I grabbed my black bucket helmet and held it out to her. She took it and smelled it.

I raised an eyebrow. “Smelling my helmet? What does it smell like?”

“A greasy, sweaty head.”

“Yup, that’s definitely mine,” I said.

She put the helmet on her head and buckled the strap. She looked killer cute wearing it, too. Complete with her light blue shirt that pulled tight in all the right places. The curve of her hips making it so the shirt didn’t cover up all her skin. Fuck, she had something natural about her. Something I liked. And she was hiding shit. I could appreciate a good secret here and there. It left you vulnerable and hidden, but willing to do what it took to survive. It also kept commitment off the table. That was a great thing, too.

The only thing I was committed to were the people that paid to have me put ink on their body. And my commitment to drinking warm whiskey and ice cold beer.

I climbed on my ride and Bella got behind me. She had her bags balanced on her shoulders. Thankfully they weren’t fucking suitcases or huge bags or else she would have been screwed. She slid her hands around to my front. Her hands clung so tight to my shirt she was clawing at my stomach.

“You know, if you’re going to claw my stomach like that, we could at least be naked,” I called out.

She released her hold with a gasp. “So you’re an asshole?”

“Yup,” I said.

I started the motorcycle so she couldn’t reply.

Then I took off.

She kept her fierce grip on me. I could easily tell she had never been on a motorcycle before. That intrigued me even more about this pretty stranger who had her bags packed and her car broken down.

I rode my way back into town and took her to Gonzo’s garage.

It was a small, sort of rundown place. But that’s how things were in Hundred Falls Valley. It was a small town where everyone relied on each other and worked together to keep things moving forward in life. It always struck me as odd that Tate opened St. Skin there, but if it worked for him, then whatever.

I pulled into the lot and stopped. I turned off the motorcycle. Bella was quick to jump off. I grabbed for her wrist.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked. “You’re all jumpy and shit.”

“I don’t know who you are,” she said. “I don’t know where I am. And my car is fucked.”

I nodded. “Tell you what. You take a breather here. Let me go talk to Gonzo. See what’s going on. Okay? For the record, you’re in Hundred Falls Valley. Nothing bad is going to happen here today, tomorrow, or to you. People in this town are generally quiet, except if you take someone’s spot for the Halloween parade. As for me, I’m just trying to help you out for a second. That’s it.”

She nodded but she didn’t smile.

“I got your back, darlin’,” I said.

I got your back?

I groaned in my head.

What the fuck was I really doing here? Bella needed to get her ass a ride home, wherever that was. I had no business messing around with her or whatever situation she was in, but I couldn't help myself. Maybe I should have taken Tate’s advice and just gone to the strip club. The day would have been so much easier with some mostly naked woman rubbing on me, all on Tate’s dime.

I ran a hand through my hair and growled as I went around the garage to the back lot. That’s where Gonzo kept cars and had his own personal junkyard. You think junkyard and think mess, but not with Gonzo. He kept things organized and knew everything he had and there was a purpose for everything he had.

Robby had Bella’s car off the tow truck and was already driving away. Gonzo had the hood popped up in seconds and was leaning forward, looking at it. I gave a quick whistle and Gonzo popped up his head back up and around. He pointed at me and gave me a big smile.

We skipped the handshakes and went for a hug.

Gonzo was a good man. He’d lost his wife and kept himself busy at the garage, coaching soccer in town, and anything else to pass the time.

We broke the hug and Gonzo grabbed my arm. I was much taller than him and built bigger but he had a fucking grip that could take down even the strongest man in the world. All those years holding and cranking a wrench did the trick.

I looked over at Bella’s car, hood up, and gave a nod. “What do we have?”

“Could be much worse,” Gonzo said.

“You know what’s wrong already?”

“That I do.”

I opened my mouth to question him, but it was fucking Gonzo. Of course he knew. He didn’t have to touch a vehicle sometimes to know what was wrong with it.

“You can fix this?” I asked.

“That I can,” he said with a laugh.

“How long?”

“Not that long at all,” Gonzo said.

I nodded. That was a good thing. I looked through the open garage bays and saw Bella pacing back and forth. She was now biting the nails on her left hand. Her mind was obviously racing a hundred miles an hour and it probably wasn’t all to do with her car.

Even still… damn, there was just something about her.

Hidden. Secretive. Pretty. Sexy.

She captured my full attention.

And that’s when I thought about the fucking wedding invitation again. Just sitting in a drawer like a hidden scar. Something that itched at me that I couldn’t stop picking until it hurt again. Those goddamn gold colored words written in fancy-ass cursive.

I curled my lip.

“Can you do me a favor, Gonzo?” I asked.

“Anything for you, Zayne.”

“Forget about the car.”

“What?”

I looked at Gonzo. “Forget about the car. Park it and leave it. Go work on other stuff. Put it at the end of the line.”

“Zayne…”

“Just give me a day or two,” I said.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t get it….” Gonzo said.

I looked to my left again, right at Bella.

“I don’t get it either, Gonzo. Just forget about the car, okay?”

“Who is she, Zayne?”

“I’m not exactly sure yet. But I’m going to find out.”

I just kept staring. My thoughts racing. Two people. Two strangers. Two of us running and hiding from some hurtful shit.

Bella finally stopped pacing and looked at me.

We were a few hundred feet apart, if not more.

But our eyes locked and even from a distance there was something.

I nodded.

That was the moment I came up with a crazy plan.