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The garage where Ryker worked was situated on the outskirts of town.
He maneuvered the truck and backed her car into the work bay, and then jumped out to unhook the tow bar. Jenna climbed out too, clutching her bags tightly and glancing around the garage. The acrid tang of oil hit her nostrils, fumes stinging her eyes.
A guy in his thirties with a six-pack-of-beer-a-day gut appeared from out back.
He must be Ryker’s boss, Jenna assumed.
“Hey, I wondered where you’d gotten to.” The man waved a cell phone at Ryker. “You forgot to take this with you again.”
Ryker patted down his jeans pockets, as if expecting an identical phone to suddenly appear, and shook his head at himself. “Damn it. I think I have an aversion to those things.”
“Yeah, well, you need to remember them. I’ve had the school trying to get hold of you. They need you to go down there.”
“What’s Mikey been up to now?”
The big guy shrugged. “They didn’t say, but my guess would be fighting again.”
“Damn it.”
Mikey? School? Did Ryker have a son? Her heart dipped in disappointment. She guessed he was old enough. She assumed that meant he also had a girlfriend or wife at home, too. She hadn’t thought to check for a ring, but he appeared to be the modern type who wouldn’t necessarily be wearing one. Plus, she thought he’d been flirting with her. While she was under no illusions that he might actually have thought she was attractive—he’d probably just pitied her—that still made him a bit of an asshole. Shame. She desperately hadn’t wanted to think he was an asshole.
Ryker seemed to remember Jenna standing there. “Oh, this is Jenna...?”
“Armstrong,” she filled in.
“Jenna Armstrong,” he said the words slowly, as if testing the way her name felt in his mouth. He turned his attention back to the other guy. “Jenna’s car broke down, but it’s going to need some parts. I noted them down. Can you order them in for me while I go check out what sort of shit Mikey has pulled this time.”
“Sure, Ryker,” the other guy said, taking the slip of paper from him and handing Ryker the cell. “No problem.”
“Thanks, Sam.” He turned back to Jenna. “I just need some details from you, and then I’ll drop you in town. Okay?”
She nodded her agreement and followed him to a small counter at the back of the garage. A till sat on the surface, together with a small bell for customers to hit when they needed service. Her eyes flicked to the tasteful classic cars calendar hanging on the wall behind the counter, her gaze zooming in on one little square box. Her heart picked up pace, her stomach lurching in a flip-flop. The sight of that particular date made her sick with dread. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Only three days now. She needed to be on the move before that date. It was too dangerous to stay in one place for too long, especially then.
Ryker moved around to the other side and pulled a short form out from beneath the counter. He handed it to her, together with a pen, and she set about filling in some details. She paused at where it asked her to put her address.
“Umm, what if I don’t have a current address?”
He gave her that narrowed eyed look again, as if he was trying to figure her out. “Just put ‘Arlington’. I’ll know where to find you.”
“You will?”
She didn’t know where she was going to find herself, so his comment made her both doubtful and suspicious.”
He laughed. “Well unless you’re planning on camping down in the back of the shop here, I’m going to assume I’m taking you to a motel.”
Her cheeks colored. “Oh, right. Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”
She finished the form and handed it back to him. He stashed it beneath the counter and held out his hand.
She hesitated. “You need paying already?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I need the keys. You took them back, remember?”
Her cheeks heated again and she ducked her head, fishing in her purse for her keys. Damn, how did this guy manage to make her feel like an idiot at every turn? She fished out the keys and then dipped her hand back into her purse, and took out one of the antibacterial wipes from the open packet she kept in there. She’d touched the inside of the truck door, plus the pen, which god-knows how many other people had handled. Hoping he wouldn’t notice, she wiped her hands clean and then crumpled up the moist wipe. Desperately, she wanted to dispose of the wipe, but she had no way of doing so without Ryker noticing. Instead, she squashed it into the corner of her purse, trying not to think about all of the germs that might be crawling off the thin material and dispersing among her personal belongings.
She tried not to let the idea make her hyperventilate.
Unaware of her discomfort, Ryker moved around the counter and headed back toward his truck. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “You coming?”
Jenna nodded, but before following him, she pulled the wipe back out of her purse and left it on the counter. She felt bad for littering, but figured a panic attack would be worse.
Ryker waited by the truck.
She remembered something. “Hey, I know I’m being difficult, but I have a few things in my car I need to bring with me. Do you mind giving me a hand?”
He nodded and gave a shrug. “No problem.”
Ryker opened the car for her and she scraped together the worst of her clothes from the back seat. Her cheeks burned as she hooked one of her bras from the headrest and quickly stuffed it in one of the two big hold-alls she carted her property around in. She wouldn’t need all of her clothes, but she didn’t like the idea of them all being left on display like this.
With her things collected, Ryker bent to haul one of the bags, while she lifted the other one.
He reached out and took the second bag from her. “Hey, let me.”
He lifted both bags and she tried not to appreciate the way his muscles bulged beneath his tattoos. The tattoos were all in black and white, and ended at his wrists. Her eyes tried to distinguish each individual picture, though they were done in such a way the shapes and shading all blended into one image. There were some traditional elements—a rose, a skull, a pin-up girl—but joining them all were swirls of what could have been either waves or fire. The tattoos were beautifully done. While she didn’t have any herself, she appreciated why they were considered art.
He caught her staring and grinned as he threw her bags into the back of the truck. “They’re my one permanent thing,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Everything else in life changes or ends. These babies won’t be going anywhere until the day I die.”
She wondered what else in his life had changed, but didn’t want to pry. They both climbed in the truck and Ryker started the vehicle back up. He pulled away from the garage and they continued the drive on the road into town.
“So your boss doesn’t mind you taking off like this in the middle of the day?” she said, changing the subject.
Ryker frowned at her. “My boss?”
“Yeah, the guy back there—Sam?”
He laughed. “Sam’s not my boss. That’s my garage. Or at least, it was my dad’s garage, and he passed it on to me.”
“Why? Did he have a change in careers, or something?”
“Nah, he died.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry.”
She shifted awkwardly in her seat, not knowing what else to say. Part of her wanted to tell him how her mom had died when she’d been young too, and that she’d never known her dad. But she wasn’t one for sharing, especially not now. She even regretted giving him her last name back at the garage, but he’d have wanted to see her papers for the car anyway. The less he knew about her, the better.
Before long, they were headed toward town, Jenna peering out of the window at the place that would become her home for the next couple of days. So far, Arlington appeared like most small towns in middle America—neat homes and the occasional park, gradually becoming more built up the closer into the center they got.
“Hey, do you mind if we just call in at the school quickly? It’s on the way, and I really have to check out what Mikey has been up to now.”
She tried to keep her tone light. “Oh, is Mikey your son?”
He turned to her like she was crazy. “Son? Do I really look that old? Jeez, don’t tell me I’m losing my hair.”
She laughed. “No, you have plenty of hair. I just assumed, I guess. I seem to be doing that a lot with you. Sorry.”
“Mikey is my little brother. I kinda take care of him.”
“You do?” She remembered what he’d said about his dad dying. “What about your mom?”
“Dad raised us. It was a household of males. My mom left when my brother was only small. Said she’d had enough of giving to everyone else all the time. Wanted her life back.”
“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “We managed okay with just my dad. But then he died and no one knew where to find my mom, so it was just me. I’d turned eighteen at the time, and my dad had left me the business, so I had a way to support us. It was pretty unusual, but with no other family, the courts decided we were better off staying at home, with regular checks, of course.”
Jenna appraised him with new eyes. He was surprising her every minute she spoke to him. “Wow, that must have been so hard on you. So much responsibility from such a young age.”
“I did all right. My brother was only seven at the time, though. It hit him hard and he’s still struggling now, even though he’s almost fifteen. He acts out, you know, but who can blame him after everything he’s been through.”
They pulled up outside the school—a red brick building with a playing field out front—to see a boy with spiked hair, a leather jacket, and ripped jeans, running down the path. A woman in a suit stood outside the school building, shouting and gesticulating at the boy. The boy threw up his hands, flipped her the bird, and kept coming.
Ryker glanced over at her. “I think you’re about to meet Mikey.”