Page 18 of My Secret to Protect

‘Who are you?’ she asked, unfazed by my size, appearance, or presence.

‘Who are you?’ I shot back, crossing my arms over my chest and noticing the way her nostrils flared as she took in my biceps.

‘This ismygrandma’s house. Do I need to ask you again, or are you going to answer?’

My eyes widened, and I couldn’t help my grin. I liked that sass.

‘Bree, heel.’ Mrs. C chuckled as she approached. ‘Down, girl.’

‘Grandma.’ The girl, Bree, scowled at Mrs. C, and I raised my hand to cover my smirk.

‘Arlo, you’ll have to excuse my granddaughter. She’s more protective than you boys.’

‘Oh, of course, he’s one ofthem.’ Bree looked at the van and took a step back.

The granddaughter. Now I understood why Viking warned me off. She was fucking beautiful. Feisty, petite, and an air of something that I knew could push my buttons. She must have been nineteen, twenty at a push. This job just got a whole lot more interesting.

‘Allfinished,boss.’

I lift my attention from the paperwork on my desk and smile at the woman entering my office. Her gray coveralls show the tell-tale marks of a busy day in an auto shop, and the oil-covered rag she’s using to wipe her hands adds to the look. ‘Calista, you’re an angel.’

My lead mechanic laughs and shakes her head.

‘You’re not wrong.’ She drops into the seat on the other side of my desk and looks exhausted. I feel guilty for asking her to lead the ship while I’m gone.

‘Is the baby doing okay? Mara?’ I ask, and she smiles, nodding.

‘Yeah, baby’s fine, and Mara’s fine. It’s just a lot.’ Calista’s fifteen-year-old daughter having a baby was a shock for the whole family, but they’re pulling together to make it work.

‘You sure you’re okay to watch this place?’

‘Who the fuck else are you going to ask?’ She laughs again, then leans forward and places her hand on top of mine on the desk. ‘It’s fine, honey, you never go anywhere. I got it.’ She pushes herself up out of the chair and stands to leave. ‘Besides, all that extra pay you’re going to give me makes it worth it.’

She’s right. I never go anywhere. I got out of jail and was given the choice one last time: club or out. I’d earned my ticket out, but my circumstances had changed in the years I’d been locked up, and my reason for wanting to leave wasn’t a part of my life anymore, so I could have gone back, but then it would have all been for nothing. I chose out. I left, said goodbye to the only family I’d ever known, and walked. Mrs. C helped me. She got me on my feet and supported me with the shop more than I could ever repay her for. Although I guess that’s why I’m about to leave my life and my business to move to some nowhere town and pretend to date the girl who put me behind those bars in the first place.

Jesus, fuck, this is going to be torture.

Ipackedupmytruck with my bike and the stuff I was taking to Forest Falls.

Mrs. C, ever surprising, bought me a goddam house, so I’m moving in right next door to Bree. Apparently, the owner had been meaning to sell for years but hadn’t gotten around to it, so she gave him a call, made an offer, and now I’m leaving my apartment and my business to move to a small town and into a house excruciatingly close to the woman I have tried for twenty years to forget.

The house is mostly furnished, so I didn’t need to take too much of the big stuff, but I don’t know how long I’m going to be there, and I’m not doing this without my bed.

I grew up in the club, so my childhood wasn’t comfortable. It was loud and tense.

My dad did his best, but I wasn’t his top priority. I never had a decent bed or a good night of sleep, then I was behind bars, and, well, any small comforts I might have had were a thing of the past, so when I got out and got on my feet, I promised myself I would always have a comfortable bed to lay down on at the end of the night, and I bought myself a damn good one. That’s one of the reasons that sex is never a sleepover for me. I don’t want to share my bed with anybody, and I never want to sleep anywhere else.

Once upon a time, I dreamed of sharing my bed with someone. I dreamed of waking up every day with her in my arms, but that dream went up in flames and took any hope, any desire for any kind of partnership with it… Now, I have to pretend to date her, fantastic.

Driving into Forest Falls, I sigh. I don’t want to fucking do this.

Since my conversation with Mrs. C, I went over and over what I was getting myself into, and I came up with nothing that I wanted to admit out loud. I thought I was done with Breanne Campbell. I thought if I never saw her or heard her name again, it would be too soon, but despite my resentment towards her, the thought of her in danger, the thought of this son of a bitch terrifying her into exhaustion, makes me want nothing more than to put him in the fucking ground, and I will not hesitate given the chance.

The house is nice, nicer than my apartment in the city. It’s a red brick duplex cottage with a front yard and a path leading up to the porch. I glance across to the matching house next door, Bree’s house.

It’s neat: lawn mowed, no flowers of any sort, but a splash of color in the teal-painted shutters and door. I take a breath, then reach over to pat my dog’s meaty backside as I blow it out.

‘We’re home, buddy,’ I say, trepidation sitting heavy in my gut.

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