Page 13 of Outcast
She gave me a wary look. “My husband will check everything you do. I might not know anything about cars, but he does.”
I wasn’t offended by her distrust. Some auto shops took advantage of customers’ lack of knowledge, especially if those customers were women. But I knew Holden would never stand by that kind of practice, even if the old man had occasionally screwed people over.
“Understood, ma’am. We’ll only fix something if it’s necessary, and we’ll call and confirm before we go ahead with it.”
“Okay,” she said. “Then yes, please. Thank you.”
I climbed into the truck and started it up. The black sedan took off first.
I shifted into drive and pulled back onto the two-lane highway, headed toward Riverton.
A car on the side of the road caught my eye. It wasn’t black, though, so my customer was fine. This one was cherry red.
Two men were standing by the car. Embracing? No. Fighting.
I was past them before I could process the sight entirely. Maybe it was just a spat between friends or brothers, but if it was something else…
Well, it wouldn’t sit right to just leave someone to their fate.
I swore under my breath and pulled over onto the side of the road. I left the truck idling and jumped out the driver’s door.
“Hey!” I called, jogging toward the tussling men.
A slim blond guy slammed against the side of the car, then fell to his knees.
A dark-haired, larger guy snarled down at him. “Stay there. That’s where you belong.”
I recognized that voice. It sent a chill through me.
“Dallas, is that you?” I grabbed his shoulder and jerked him away from the guy on his knees.
He spun, shoving me away. “Who the fuck—” His eyes widened. “Gray?”
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
He scoffed. “What, this? He’s just a bad hookup. Not worth the fucking trouble. Especially now that you’re here…”
He reached out to touch my face. I swatted his hand away.
“Get the fuck out of here before I kick your ass.”
Dallas raised his hands, looking wounded. “Nice way to greet an old friend.”
“We’re not friends. You’re a snake.”
He huffed. “Fuck this drama. I’m out of here.”
He rounded the car and climbed in, slamming the driver’s door behind him. The engine roared to life, and the car sped off, kicking up pebbles.
The poor schmuck who’d fallen for Dallas’s false charm scrambled to his feet, swiping blood from a cut on his lip.
His golden hair was a mess from the struggle, darkened by sweat and tufted up in odd places, but he was still gorgeous as hell.
His blue eyes met mine, and recognition hit hard.
I’d nursed a hell of a crush on Emory Gold in high school, even if we’d never talked.
We didn’t move in the same circles. Not even the same stratosphere.
