Page 53 of Needing More
Now she was stuck with a very inoperable tire.
She had three options. She could call Joel and deal with him teasing her mercilessly. She could call Hayden and deal with him either freaking out and lecturing her, or feeding into his already existing habit of worrying about her every time she left the house alone. Or she could call Vic. Heat spread through her body at the thought. He would no doubt come to help, but he would demand payment.
Shaking her head she pushed away the images of him taking his payment from her body. She couldn’t do it. She had to stop this thing between them before it burned through her and to everything she loved around her.
Looking at the tire again she made up her mind. How hard could it be? Pulling her curls into a messy bun, she hopped out of the truck and onto the gravelly shoulder and stared at the mangled tire. So what all did she need to change a tire? Walking back to the truck, she unlatched the long bucket seat and leaned it forward to the small storage space behind the seat and was greeted by the sight of two shotguns and a box of bullets.
"Okayay…," she murmured as she reached around the guns and pulled out the jack and a tire iron.
Satisfied with herself for knowing enough to need these tools, she paused. The self congratulation immediately evaporated when she thought of the spare tire. Where the hell was the spare?
A familiar rumble sounded down the road. Sapphire turned and squinted down the highway and saw a lone biker riding in her direction. Instantly she could see from the man's build and long hair he was not one of her guys. A spike of panic lodged itself in her chest and she felt her hands begin to shake. Was this another angry biker? Maybe it was one of the other men that showed up that night at the motel to terrorize her.
Not waiting to find out, Sapphire scrambled back into the truck, shoving the seat back as she did, and quickly closed the door and locked it. Damn! She immediately recognized her mistake in not grabbing one of the guns. She may not know how to use it, but she could have scared them with it.
The deafening growl of the bike got closer and closer before pulling up alongside the truck and stopping a few feet in front.
Her heart climbed into her throat and she looked desperately around the cab for her phone. Where was it? It was just here in the seat next to her. Looking up at the biker who was still sitting on his bike looking at her through his dark glasses, Sapphire glanced back down at the seat and felt for her phone. Did it fall through the back when she pulled open the seat?
Looking up, she felt the blood drain from her face as the large man swung off the bike and settled it onto its stand.
Turning back to her, he pulled off his shades and hung them on the collar of his black wife-beater tank. In black ripped jeans and silver studded boots, the man kind of reminded her of a fragrance commercial model she had seen with his long, slightly wavy, brown-blonde hair hanging well past his shoulders.
Their eyes connected and he stopped. Holding up both hands in a sign of surrender, he smiled and pointed with one still raised hand to her window and signaled for her to roll it down.
She narrowed her gaze at him. The man laughed, the muffled sound seeping into the cab of the truck.
His smile, like the rest of his oddly rugged, model-like features was nice, but she still didn’t trust him. Nothing ever said serial killers couldn't be handsome.
"I'm a friend of Hayden and Joel," the man said as he walked a little closer to the driver's side window. Seeing that she made no response to that confession, the man lowered his hands and gave her a considering smile, before pulling out his phone and tapping the screen. Turning the phone around he showed her Hayden's contact info. "I could call him if you don't believe me."
That was the last thing she wanted. She could just imagine what would happen if the guys found out about this situation, especially from some other guy. They would roll down the highway like a black tide of anger, all directed at her. She may as well run off into those wheat or whatever they were fields and just live there.
Reaching for the window handle of the old truck she rolled it down just a crack. The man's smile softened and he put his phone back in his pocket. He looked down and she knew he was staring at her mangled tire.
"I see that you got yourself a flat." He scratched at the slight growth of hair on his cheek before looking back up at her. "Need a hand?"
"No." She shook her head stiffly.
The man went on as if she didn't say anything. "This is Hayden's old truck. That must make you the girl that took down the Three Heathens. A pleasure to meet ya, I'm Sebastien…Sebastien Kreager at your service. Friend of the Heathens," he added with a grin. "And a mighty fine tire changer," he let the words hang in the air like a carrot to a desperate rabbit hiding in its warren.
Sapphire stared back at him through the window from the safety of the truck, considering his words and her limited options. There was no way in hell she was going to call the guys and admit how she blew the tire. And changing it herself, while an option, would take lots of YouTube videos, a butt load of cursing and time, and she would no doubt attract the attention of other people from Holter traveling from Stardust that wouldn't hesitate to call one of the guys and rat her out. Damn small town.
"I'm not sure there is even a spare tire," she finally said, imagining the outside of the truck and not recalling seeing one.
The biker slash fragrance model laughed and thumped the bottom of the truck with his boot. "It's secured underneath. I can get it and change it for ya but you will have to reach into that back seat and get the tire iron and jack for me. You can even chuck them through the little sliding window in the back if that will make ya feel better."
Sapphire bristled at that. She wasn't a coward, just understandably leery considering she had been shot at not too long ago by another biker. Straightening her spine and inwardly summoning the courage to trust him even if just a little bit, Sapphire rolled down the window all the way and handed him the requested tools.
"Okay, sit still and I’ll get this changed for ya."
Kreager. Sapphire heard that last name before. Watching him walk around the truck, she sat very still as he dropped to the dusty ground behind the tailgate. Guilt pierced her as she thought of his crisp black jeans on the dirty gravelly road. A few thumps and shaking to the truck, he reappeared holding a dusty looking tire.
She felt useless. Maybe she should get out and watch? Shaking her head, she immediately nixed that idea. This wasn’t the time to try and learn how to change the tire; besides, he could change his mind and decide to kill her with the tire iron she supplied him. Deciding to just stay quiet, she watched him through the window as he jacked up the truck until she was sitting up and at an angle.
It finally struck her where she knew the name. "Do you happen to know Garrett Kreager?"
Without looking up at her, Sebastian smirked. "I would," he drawled, rolling the old tire out of the way. "He's my nephew."
