Chapter 3

Just once in my life, I’d actually like to see a liar’s pants catch on fire.

-Coffee Cup

Hannah

389 days ago

“Hello?” I answered, walking toward my car with Reggie holding onto my hand, trotting along behind me.

“You get settled in yet?”

I smiled as I looked at the door to my place.

“Yes, we’re settled…why?”

“Because,” I heard through both my phone and in front of me, “I’m here, and I want to make sure I’m not about to be sent away again when I’ve just driven two hours to see my niece.”

I looked up and immediately smiled at my brother.

“Hey, Michael,” I grinned.

“Uncle Mikey!” came my seven-year old’s screeched squeal. “You’re here!”

Michael shoved his phone into his pocket and took the stairs two at a time, making it three-quarters of the way down before Reggie hit him like a tiny little land piranha.

My brother scooped her up into his arms, buried his face into my girl’s neck, and pretended to eat her.

Reggie, of course, shrieked in glee.

She loved her Uncle Mikey with everything she had, and the day I took her away from him and moved to Uncertain, and then to Hostel from there, was the day that I ‘ruined her life.’ Or so she said, anyway.

She quickly forgot, but she didn’t forget how much she loved her uncle.

“You want to come eat dinner with me and watch a movie, Monster?” Michael asked her.

My lips tipped up at the corners.

“What kind of silly question is that?” my daughter shot back. “Of course, I do!”

“You don’t think your momma will care if I steal you away?”

God, please take her! my eyes said pleadingly.

My daughter was a beautiful, intelligent, delight of a child.

But, she was also a handful.

Beautiful, intelligent children who had an IQ as high as Reggie’s needed stimulation. My brain was tired.

It would be nice to get a few minutes peace and quiet.

My daughter looked at me pleadingly, and I changed my expression to one of contemplation.

“Mama!”

I rolled my eyes skyward and sighed.

“I think that she said yes.”

I laughed. “You would think that, wouldn’t you, Mikey?”

He winked at me, came down the rest of the stairs, and then threw his arm around my shoulder.

“I’ve missed you, sis.”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my face on his tattooed forearm.

“I love you, too, Mikey.”

Mikey didn’t do the sweetness all that often, but when he did, I savored it.

He was a badass SWAT officer. If he acted like he was a big ol’ teddy bear, then his reputation would be ruined.

Or so he said.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “Go out. Get some food. Have some fun. Do what you said your co-worker asked you to do today.”

I snorted.

I was not going to a club and ‘unwinding’ with the sluttiest co-worker that Jefferson had to offer. It just wasn’t happening.

***

Three hours later, I was a little bit tipsy, and watching the most handsome man in the world from across the bar.

God, he was eye-catching.

He had the build of a runner. All wiry and lean. Though, that didn’t mean he didn’t have muscles, because he did. Those arms were to die for, and the tattoos? Those only made those muscles even better.

From across the bar, I couldn’t see what the tattoos looked like, but I wasn’t sure if it’d matter—as long as it didn’t say some long-lost love’s name, I was pretty okay with any tattoo!

He was wearing faded blue jeans, a gray t-shirt with ‘Hail Auto Recovery’ on the back of it in white vinyl letters. Underneath the lettering was a picture of a tow-truck…one that resembled the six tow trucks that I’d parked beside after pulling into the parking lot earlier.

Apparently, the entire Hail Auto Recovery crew was here unwinding after a long day of work.

Kind of like I was.

“Hey!” Wednesday cried out. “Are you going to drink that?”

I looked at the beer I’d been nursing for the last half an hour and shook my head.

“I was going to, but it’s warm now. Do you want it?” I asked, offering her the mug. “I was about to go get a refill.”

As long as the hottie at the bar moved.

I couldn’t walk up and ask the bartender for another beer with him sitting there. There was no way that I’d manage to do it.

I’d either A, walk up and trip, smacking my face on his barstool, or B, spill my beer on either him or myself. Both of which I’d done before.

I was what you would call an awkward woman.

I was an introvert, and on top of that, I found it hard to talk to anyone that wasn’t coming to see me in a medical capacity.

Why I could talk to patients all day long, and not talk to a man that was at a bar, I had no idea. But I couldn’t, and I’d long since decided that it was going to forever be that way.

I’d come to terms with that fact a long time ago...right along the time that I met my ex-husband.

A man that was almost as awkward as me, and quickly made me realize that I was just different.

Except, Joshua, my ex-husband, didn’t really think that. He thought I was odd, and that I’d get over my strangeness once I grew older.

When I didn’t and made an embarrassment of myself and him at a company party (his words not mine), he decided that it was time for him to leave and make it official with his co-worker, Mandy.

Mandy, the woman that I’d cooked dinner for at my home. Mandy, the woman that watched my kid. Mandy, the woman that was also allergic to dogs, and didn’t like Mogley—our dog, that we were forced to put him away while she was over.

Mandy, the whore that had been seeing him on the sly for eight months before he admitted to me that I was no longer ‘his one.’

“Thanks!” Wednesday took the beer and brought it to her lips. “I can’t believe I forgot my wallet!”

I could.

Wednesday was always forgetting everything.

She was a good girl and a great nurse…but with her everyday life? She was the epitome of ditzy.

She was what every blonde joke was made up of.

Poor girl.

She gave the regular blondes like me a bad rap.

I watched her chug the beer, and then slam the cup down on the table, drawing the attention of not just those around me, but also those not around me.

I.e., the hot guy at the bar who hadn’t looked this way all night.

“I love beer!”

I would’ve laughed. Really, I would have, but the man’s eyes were on me.

They were enthralling.

I couldn’t look away and likely wouldn’t have, had Wednesday not thrown herself around me and pulled me bodily to the dance floor.

Slightly tipsy or not, there was no way in hell I was going to dance with her.

I saw how she danced—and that was uninhibited. There was no way that I’d be dancing around her, not with the way she’d garnered every single man’s attention tonight. And yes, that included the hot one that I was staring at for most of it.

“No,” I shook off her hand. “I gotta pee!”

And hopefully find a way to get another beer without hot guy being near.

“Okay!” Wednesday chirped. “Do you want me to save you a spot?”

Save me a spot? On the dance floor? How, exactly, would she do a thing like that?

Dance around in a bigger circle?

“No,” I tried not to laugh. “I’ll catch you when you get back to the table.”

“Okay,” she cheered and clapped her hands. “Sounds good!”

I rolled my eyes and made my way to the bathroom, wondering why the hell I’d agreed to come with Wednesday in the first place. Likely, it was due to the fact that she bothered me relentlessly about it, and I always had an excuse.

That, and she’d met me at the grocery store after Michael had taken Reggie, and I’d not had her with me to use for an excuse. After learning that I was child-free, she had invited me out and I wasn’t able to come up with an excuse fast enough and was forced to bend to her will.

Which sucked, because to be honest, it would’ve been incredible to have a few hours to myself without my daughter around. A bottle of wine and the last season of Blue Bloods sounded fantastic after a day like today.

As I got to the line for the women’s restroom, I pulled out my phone and started to read a book.

I’d made it about a chapter and a half in before it was my turn, and only when I was about to head inside, did I look up.

I blinked when I saw the man—the hot guy—standing across the hallway from me, staring.

The hot guy that I realized that I knew now that I saw him up close and personal instead of from across a smoky, dark bar. The one man that had watched over me—thanks to Wolf’s insistence—when a call for all medical personnel in the area had gone out months ago.

We hadn’t spoken then. There hadn’t been enough time. And when there had been time, he’d been gone.

For the life of me I couldn’t remember his name, though. I’d been so enamored with meeting the man in person—I’d seen him around town quite a bit—that I’d momentarily blanked out.

When I’d come to, with my friend leaving me, he’d nodded his head at me and I’d gone to work at hearing a woman’s pained cry.

“You enjoying that book?” he asked casually.

I cleared my throat, nodded, and—like the introvert that I was—walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

“Shit!” I cursed, loudly enough for the woman at the sink to look at me.

“Sorry,” I apologized for my cursing. “Stubbed my toe.”

She looked down at the dusty cowboy boots I had on with my jeans, and ‘hmmed’ at me.

I chose to go into the bathroom stall before I said or did anything else stupid and embarrassing.

Once I was finished, I walked to the counter and washed my hands, inspecting my face.

I had a zit on the bottom of my chin. It was the size of Atlanta.

It hurt like a mother, and I was wondering if anybody beside me could see it. With the way it was positioned, I was fairly sure that nobody could, but that didn’t stop me from covering it by keeping my eyes pointed at the ground as I exited.

Though that likely had a lot to do with the fact that there might be the man out in the hallway again, and I really didn’t want him to see the zit that hopefully only I could see. If, on the off chance, he was still leaning against that wall.

But, the moment I arrived in the hallway, I glanced up slightly to study the area and was disappointed to find that the only people there were the women waiting in the line for the bathroom.

Shit.

But then, as I passed an open doorway, I froze when I heard that voice say, “Gonna wait right here for her.”

I sped up, completely saddened to hear that my hot guy was waiting for another woman.

God, why was I so stupid?

I was a single mother. I had extra weight in my ass and thighs. I had long blonde hair, and at this point, I only had a double chin when I looked down at my iPhone. I wasn’t anyone to write home about.

At least, I didn’t think so.

The guy that I’d been staring at all night? He was too hot for me.

I was a six on the attractiveness scale. He was an eleven.

Those two didn’t mix.

Not from what I could tell, anyway.

But, as I hurried past the open doorway and into the main part of the bar, I could hear hurried boot steps behind me.

The one good thing I could say about hot guy being in the back was that now the bar was free.

And now I could get that glass of wine—wine that I’d been dreaming about since this afternoon when Reggie threw a fit because I wouldn’t take her to the zoo.

Maybe I could drink it, and then convince Wednesday that I had to go.

It was eight thirty. That was about an hour away from my usual bedtime, and it would be so nice to be at home and get a good night’s sleep, and then not have to take Reggie to school in the morning.

On my day off.

God, I could practically feel my bed calling for me, which made me hesitate halfway to the bar. Which in turn made the man that was following at my back, catch me.

And he caught me—literally and figuratively.

How did he do that, you ask?

Due to my abrupt stop, and his hurried footsteps to keep up with me, it caused him to slam into my back.

My arms shot out to catch my fall that I knew was inevitable, but before my face could make an introduction with the floor, large arms looped around my waist and caught me.

Which then led to me bent over at the waist, his groin pressed against my ass, in the middle of the dance floor, during a song that had nearly everyone in the entire place slow dancing.

I stood up, my non-existent abs burning, and turned, staring at the man that was still holding on to me with stunned silence.

“You okay?” he questioned.

His breath smelled like whiskey.

It wasn’t a bad smell, per se, but it wasn’t my favorite.

But, the rest of him? He smelled like leather, a hint of grease, and man.

And his eyes were a stunning ice blue.

“Yeah?”

My yeah came out as a question, causing his hands to tighten slightly on my hips—hands that he still had firmly locked into place.

“You’re not sure?”

I shrugged and then tried to pull away.

What did he do when I did? Put both of his arms around me...and then start to sway to the music.

Sway. To. The. Music.

He started dancing.

With me.

Me and my two left feet.

“Uhhh,” I said, trying not to enjoy the way his hips were swaying back and forth across my pelvis. “What are you doing?”

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to have a drink with me, but dancing works, too.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, and so, like a fool, I stood there for a few long seconds.

And in those seconds, he took it as consent and continued to dance. This time, he smoothed one hand up my side and then down my arm, latching onto my hand.

The other moved to curve around my hip, hauling me impossibly closer.

By this point, I was on the verge of panic.

What did I do?

I stepped on his foot.

Though, not on purpose.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, pushing slightly on his arm. “I don’t dance well.”

“Well,” he started to let me go, and the feeling of panic started to subside. “I do. So that’s a win for you.”

Then he spun me around like those men did to the ladies on Dancing With The Stars, and I gasped.

When I found myself facing the right way again, he used his hand on my hip to turn me slightly, and then he did another really cool move that had me facing away from him for a few seconds before I was turned back the right way.

I gasped, breathless, and stared at him in shock.

“What are we…”

He leaned forward, and I leaned back.

That was about when I found myself leaning backward, staring at the world upside down.

It went on like that for a few minutes longer as the song finished, and by the time he was finished, I was smiling.

“That was fun.” I patted him on the shoulder and turned to walk away.

He let me go, but only long enough for me to step away and start in the direction of the door.

However, he steered me toward the bar and flagged down the bartender.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked.

A lot of wine, I mentally retorted. Audibly, I said, “Water.”

The man at my side grunted something that sounded a lot like a rumbling laugh, but I didn’t turn to study his face to confirm.

I kept my eyes forward and wondered if I could manage to sit on one of the bar stools without falling.

Deciding that I could likely manage it, I sat, and then immediately cursed myself.

I could feel the cool air on my exposed back and wondered again why I’d decided to wear the tank top.

“Have you ever been to Gas Monkey before?”

I blinked, turning to him as I began to tug on my shirt.

“What?” I asked in confusion.

He gestured with his head toward my breast, and my eyes followed his.

The tank top I was wearing was one that my brother had gotten me. It’d fit PR—pre-Reggie. Last week had been the first time I’d tried it on since then, and I was happy to find out that it fit, though still a little tight. It’d been one of my favorites way back when.

“Yes,” I told him. “Once. Before they were popular on the TV series, though.”

His brows went up.

“You watch Gas Monkey on TV?”

I nodded, then immediately thanked the bartender for my glass of water. “Yeah.”

“Christ, you might very well be every man’s dream girl.”

When my startled eyes found his, I realized that he was staring at my ass.

I cleared my throat of embarrassment.

“W-why is that?”

I didn’t know why I was every man’s dream girl—at least in his way of thinking. Joshua, my ex, would beg to differ.

“You drink beer. You wear jeans so tight that I can admire your curves. You watch my favorite show…and you’re fucking hot.”

I found myself grinning.

“And, since I’ve been watching you all night, you haven’t said yes to a single man when he asked you to dance.”

He’d been watching me all night? He thought I was hot? Holy shit!

“Not to mention, when you felt yourself getting tipsy, you slowed down on the beer and didn’t make a fool of yourself like your friend did.”

I took that moment to scan the area for Wednesday, and found her standing on the edge of the dance floor, head thrown back, drinking a drink that someone had to buy for her. Hopefully she at least took it straight from the bartender.

The man that was standing next to her looked ready to pounce, and my eyes narrowed.

Wednesday had been shrugging him off all night, and she’d even told him that she didn’t want to dance with him.

Why all of a sudden would she talk—let alone laugh—with him?

But, my eyes were pulled back toward him when he said, “What else do you like to do?”

So, that was how, over the next half hour, we talked about anything and everything. In the middle of a bar.

“What’s your favorite drink?” I queried.

He snorted. “Dr. Pepper. Is there anything else to drink in Texas?”

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Mine is Mountain Dew.”

He gasped, sounding like he was highly offended by my admission.

“Blasphemy.” His eyes sparkled. “I’ll have to rethink this ‘liking you’ business.”

I giggled.

Like a teenage girl.

Jesus Christ.

But before I could reply, Travis’ eyebrows snapped together, and his eyes narrowed on something that was over my left shoulder.

In reaction, I turned and stared at where his gaze was pointing, and immediately got to my feet and headed in the direction of where I’d just seen Wednesday leave with the guy.

Her head had been leaning on his shoulder, and his arm was around her waist, guiding her out of the club.

That was not Wednesday.

Wednesday could handle her drinks. I’d once seen her down half a bottle of vodka, drink two beers, and then finish off the rest of the vodka all within a two-hour timeframe. Not once had I seen her act drunk.

How she could handle all that and still act halfway sane—and I say half because she’s always partially insane—was beyond me. But the girl could do it.

I’d seen it happen.

My feet carried me outside, and before I knew it, I was scanning the parking lot for my friend.

I didn’t see the familiar blonde hair, and I also didn’t see Wednesday’s flaming red dress.

I did hear a man talking, though, and decided that maybe I should go over to where I could hear him and ask if he’d seen her.

My first step around the side of the building had me coming face to face with the same man holding up a clearly under-the-influence Wednesday on the seat of a motorcycle—who had her skirt hiked up around her waist, with a man’s face buried between her cleavage.

I snapped.

“Hey!” I screamed. “What are you doing?”

The man sneered and stood up fully, and Wednesday started to teeter off of the bike.

Her eyes were almost all the way closed, and she didn’t say a word as the man caught her before she could face plant.

Thank God.

What I was not happy about, though, was the way the man was so clearly hanging onto her.

“Did you slip something into her drink?” I accused as I rushed forward.

“No,” the man lied. “She’s lit.”

I highly doubted that.

“All right, well you can put her into my car, then,” I gestured toward my car in the middle of the parking lot.

The man didn’t even bother looking. Instead, he growled something.

“She’s coming home with me.”

I shook my head almost immediately. “No. She is not.”

He fisted his hand. “And how, exactly, are you going to stop me?”

That was when Travis sidled up, surprising not just the man, but me as well.

I hadn’t realized that he’d followed me out here.

Travis was not the type of man to stay silent and let a woman do the talking.

At least, I didn’t think that he was.

But then I saw the other man come up at my side and realized why he hadn’t immediately followed me out. He was getting backup.

Smart man.

“How about you leave before you make a scene.”

And that was when, instead of helping her down nicely, the man practically shoved Wednesday off his bike.

Her entire body hit the concrete before any of us could move, and her head bounced off with sickening force.

Travis moved.

One second, he was at my side. The next, he was across the short alley and slamming his fist into the man’s jaw.

The man went down hard, knocked out so quick and fast that not even he saw it coming.

Travis stood over the man with an angry expression on his face, and the man at my side whistled through his teeth.

“Damn, bro,” the man at my side said. “Anger issues?”

But the ‘bro’ was already moving toward Wednesday.

“Careful with her head, Baylor. She may need a doctor.”

I agreed but walked over to Wednesday who was rolling up to sit on her butt. When I got to her, I pulled out my phone and flipped on the flashlight, shining it into her eyes.

“Both pupils are dilated,” I murmured. “She’s been drugged.”

I felt the back of Wednesday’s head with both hands, happy when I didn’t find any lumps from her fall.

Before I could help her anymore, though, Travis’ brother helped Wednesday sit up with her back against the wall of the club. He was crouched down in front of her, inspecting her face.

“Baylor,” Travis snarled. “Get that piece of trash out of here.”

Baylor, whom I assumed was Travis’ brother, seeing as they’d greeted each other as they had, followed his command. But only after he’d checked Wednesday over thoroughly, who was sitting down beside the building with her forehead resting on her upraised knees.

“Sure, bro.”

Then he walked over to the man that Travis had taken down, grabbed him by the leather jacket, and then drug him over to the bike he’d been trying to get Wednesday to straddle in her inebriated state.

Once there, he threw him over the seat so his face was only inches away from the ground. Then he picked up a half-filled Dr. Pepper bottle—which might I add had dip spit in it—and poured it over the man’s face.

I nearly vomited.

The liquid poured over the man’s face, and started to go up his nose and into his partially open mouth.

Bile rose in my belly, and I had to turn away.

“Fuck.” I covered my mouth with my hand. “That’s the most disgusting thing I’d ever seen in my life.”

I could handle a lot.

I was a nurse.

I’d seen babies being born. I’d worked a motorcycle wreck that had the man’s face nearly ripped off. I’d even had to pack an ulcer wound that was all the way down to the bone on some man’s ass.

None of that compared to thinking about some random person’s spit cup full of tobacco juice going into another human being’s mouth.

Not only was it unsanitary, but it was also disgusting and dangerous.

But, after witnessing him groping Wednesday while she was clearly under the influence, and trying to get her to stay on his bike while he did it…well, I didn’t have much care or understanding for the man.

Travis’ eyes caught mine, and he winked.

I lifted my lip in a silent snarl, causing him to laugh.

I then proceeded to flip him off, which only made him laugh harder.

“Get your girl home, Hannah,” he ordered.

I looked at my ‘girl,’ who happened to now be lying on the dirty alley floor.

“Help me get her to my car?” I pleaded, holding my hands up in a praying motion.

He did it without me asking twice. Once Wednesday was in his arms—and I wouldn’t be admitting that it caused me even the tiniest bit of jealousy—he took her to my car. A car I hadn’t even told him was mine, and waited for me to open it for him.

Once he had her placed in my back seat, he closed the door, walked to me, placed a single kiss on my forehead, and was gone moments later.

His destination? The man that Baylor was talking to.

I chose to drive away instead of staying to watch what was about to happen to that man.

I could deny any knowledge of the incident…and that man would get what he deserved.