Never Love An Outlaw (Deadly Pistols MC #1)(6)
“Sounds scary,” I said, warming up more than I really should. A lot of it was the alcohol, a delayed buzz in my veins, but his tone sounded so honest, authentic in a way all the rich boys and girls I always hung around with couldn't be.
“You'd better believe it. The shitty parts of LA will make you feel alive too, when some gangbanger decides to take potshots at your truck just for sport. It's funny how being on the open road and putting up with so much shit makes a man appreciate the quiet more.”
He stood up and walked out into the clearing, stretching toward the sky. I believed him.
“You said you don't come out here often? Well, hell, neither do I. And that's what makes me love it when I do. When you're busy dealing with crowded cities and traffic jams half the time like I am, these mountains are a slice of heaven. I wouldn't trade my adventures for nothing, even the shitty parts, because they make home what it is.” He turned, his eyes narrowed. “Don't tell me this is as wild as you get? Skipping out on your friends and looking like you're about to freak the second some stranger says 'hello?'”
Christ, was it really that obvious? I smiled uneasily, shaking my head.
“Sorry. I'm a little on edge tonight. Like I said, I don't come up here often. You never know what a strange man might want out in the boonies.”
“What if he just wants to give you a good time?” He paused, just long enough to feel my heart sink, while tension roiled my belly. “I'm not talking about f*cking, girl.”
That caught me off guard. I twisted my head, stood up, creeping closer as he extended a hand.
“You're too pretty for me anyway. Let's be friends for the night. I'll take you out for a burger and a malt.” His smile grew, and I watched him reach into his pocket, this time taking out a pack of cigarettes.
I didn't know what the hell to think. He was offering me a chance to leave my comfort zone behind. I had a weird feeling he could give me something authentic too, if only for an evening. He wasn't really my type – even for a fling – but if he really didn't care about that...
“No, Richard, I really shouldn't. I don't know you. My friends are waiting.”
“Aw, come on. What's your name?”
“Megan.”
His hand shot out, taking mine in his after I'd turned him down before, giving my fingers a tight, over-friendly squeeze.
“There. Now that we know each other, what do you say? You're a local, aren't you? We'll go get some grub and keep this conversation going. Then I'll drop you off before midnight. I know you want to get outta here, I can see it in your face. What've you got to lose?”
His soft, whimsical tone held a challenge. I hated being taunted, and he wasn't even doing it openly.
He shrugged impatiently. “Go tell your girlfriends if you need to. Let 'em know you're going out with Richard for a bite. That's all this is, babe, I promise. What do you think's gonna happen? You'll wind up on some late night murder mystery show with your eyes blacked out and duct tape on your mouth?”
Laughter belted out his gut, echoing through the shadowy forest. His laugh was high, sharp, and so unexpected I couldn't stop myself from giggling too.
“Okay, you win. You don't look like a killer or a rapist.”
He began walking me down the path, the one leading further and further into the Smokies, away from Crawford's private property.
One more wink was all I needed to let him lead me along like a stupid schoolgirl.
If only I'd done something then. I could've run, yelled, screamed bloody murder, or at least re-awakened my old instinct to sober up and ask myself why the hell I decided to walk through the eerie mountains to a total stranger's pickup truck.
But he never made a move, not even when I was securely in his passenger seat, and we headed down the lonesome highway. He had to lure me deeper first.
I flipped the greasy burger over in my hands. I was hungry, yeah, but the deserted diner offered up some serious crap. I couldn't finish it.
The conversation wasn't going much better. Richard kept talking about his ex, some woman who walked out on him when he was my age, which must've been over a decade ago just looking at him.
I wasn't in the mood for lonely, stupid men tonight, however nice they might be. Whatever, at least it was better than hanging around, waiting for Crawford's awkward apologies. I reached into my purse for my phone at one point, only to realize I'd stupidly left it somewhere near the pool.
“Fuck,” I sputtered, choking down a sickeningly sweet sip of strawberry milkshake.
“Yeah, I thought so too, baby doll. They always love you and leave you real fast, the bitches. If she'd stuck around, I'm sure my life would've been a lot more exciting by now. I wouldn't have to work my ass off every day and take these mountain hikes. Hell, I'd probably have a family, maybe a house, instead of renting a studio apartment above that goddamned forsaken place.”
I blinked, barely even paying attention to his long, rambling life story anymore. “Hang on. I need to hit the restroom.”
I headed in and splashed cool water over my face, looking for a pay phone on the way out. There had been one – I could see the faint gray outline where it used to attach to the wall, now ripped out, leaving a shadow like a relic from another time.