I'm in the storeroom in the back of the shop when I hear the front door bells jingle. My dick grows instantly hard. A cruel joke being played on me by a part of my human anatomy that thinks it's party time every time it learns that it will see Ariana, because we don't see her often.

That's my fault.

When she lets her guard down, and reveals a little part of herself to me, I pull back. First it was her virginity and then it was her true feelings about living in the shadow of her mother's ghost. Both times I ran for the hills. Not because I'm an asshole, but because the more she shares with me, the more I want to take care of her. And I'm in no position to take care of her. In fact, I'm probably her biggest problem, because Bucky is definitely watching.

I can feel it.

Most of the time the two of us are like two ships passing in the night. We work similar shifts and when she comes home, she cooks, she may utter a few sentences to me and then she crashes. Tonight though, my dick is all excited because she's coming in to close up the shop for Nate who is out of town for three days at a Harley convention.

Savannah has been in a mood all day about it. Probably because she feels slighted. She thinks that Nate should trust her enough to do it herself, and she's right, but Nate has some serious control issues when it comes to his business and that's just one more thing that doesn't sit right with me.

He runs his business like a drug dealer would run their business.

Only trusting themselves and close family. Never an outsider.

I haven't heard more than ten sentences come out of Ariana's beautiful mouth in so long, that I decide to eavesdrop for a little while before I come out and ruin it all. I'm sure she'll immediately clam up as soon as she sees me.

"Hey, Savannah."

"Hey."

"How was business today?"

Ariana sounds exhausted.

"Slow."

"Did we sell anything?"

"No, we didn't sell anything, but I booked two rentals. Anything else, boss?"

It irks me that Savannah is talking to Ariana like that, but I know that my girl can handle herself. So I fall back.

"Is there something you want to say to me, Savannah, because I just worked a long shift and I'm really not in the mood for your attitude."

"Oh, is that right? Someone is feeling a little high and mighty lately isn't she."

"What is your freakin' problem?"

"Well since you asked. I've been working here for three years making most of the sales in this dead ass place, and your father doesn't trust me enough to close out the books? He always has to do it or have you do it. What the hell, Tiny? Does he think I'm going to steal someone's credit card numbers, or that I don't know how to count end of the night sales figures? Maybe I didn't go to Penn like you, but I do have a high school degree."

"I don't know what he's thinking, Savannah. You'd have to talk to him about that. You think I feel like coming here after I've worked a twelve-hour shift, then going back home to that mausoleum, and then getting back up the next day and doing the shit all over again?!"

"AHHHH!!!"

I jump when I hear the blood curdling screams of both women.

Are they fighting?

I haul ass out of the room, but don't find two women rolling around on the floor like I assumed I would. What I find are three men with black ski masks. One has a gun pointed on Savannah. The other has one pointed on Ariana. And the third has one aimed right at my head. I walked right into it. And now we're fucked, because all of the technicians have gone for the day. It's just me and the girls.

"On the floor, motherfucker," he orders.

I put my hands up and get slowly down on my knees flicking my eyes back and forth between the gun aimed at my head and the one pointed at Ariana.

Tears are streaming down her face.

It wrecks me.

I want to run to her, hold her, and assure her that I won't let them touch a hair on her head, but if I do that, I'd be revealing that I give a shit specifically about her, and then they'd probably use it against me. So I stand down.

"You're going about this all wrong," I say to the one holding the 45 on me. He's definitely the one in charge.

"Where's the safe, asshole."

"This is a Harley dealership. Not a fucking 7-Eleven," I say coldly. "We don't have a safe. All our transactions are through a credit card processor."

"Shut the fuck up and take me to the safe."

This doesn't make sense.

Either this guy is really stupid or he actually knows that there's a safe in here.

"There's no safe," I reiterate.

He presses the barrel of the gun into my temple, but I continue to stare him down. If he's going to kill me then this is where it's going to happen. I will gladly lay my life down for Ariana. I've laid down my life for much less.

"Wait!" Ariana cries out. "I know where it is."

What the fuck is she talking about.

"Take me to it."

The guy on Ariana and the asshole on me switch places. Ariana stands up and looks at me with mascara running down her face. Fear in her eyes. But not just fear for herself. Fear for me as well. It's a look that I'll never forget. The look of someone who actually gives a damn about my well-being.

She doesn't guide the guy to the storeroom like I assumed she would, but walks right behind the front counter and lifts up the industrial all-weather mat that's on the floor back there. She points to a trap door which is hidden underneath it. The only place I didn't think to look when I was looking for whatever I could on Nate.

"What you want is down there."

* * *