Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Except, the person waiting at the foot of the stairs is a man I've never seen before. He's got a couple of my romance cover printouts in his hand, looking over them, but when I let out a scared squeak in surprise, he looks up at me.
He's not wearing a cut but there's something about his stance, his bearing, the tattoos that wrap their way around his arms and poke out of the collar of his T-shirt, that marks him as a biker anyway. He looks about forty-ish, tall, square jaw, thick curly hair that looks like it's cut to be professional but is just a little bit too wild to stay that way.
“Who are you?” I try to keep my voice steady while I evaluate in my head where I might have something I can use to defend myself. No guns in this house, not even a golf club or a baseball bat. Think hard. I'm an author. If there's anything I should be good at, it's coming up with improvised weapons. But right now, I'm just frozen.
He exhales sharply, like my terror is just amusing to him. He drops my book cover mockup back on the table. “Tanner. Luke Tanner. You left a message for me about some old stuff you found.” He shrugs. “You told me to come in.”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry. I just thought you were someone else.” Okay, so thinking that he at least used to be a biker isn't too far off the mark then. “I didn't expect you to actually come by instead of calling back.”
“I was in the neighborhood anyway, so figured I'd give it a shot.” He searches the room with sharp eyes. “Looks like it did when I left. Your grandmother was a tough lady. And kind. Sorry to hear she passed.”
“Thanks. How did you end up leaving your things here?” Something in the back of my mind is still telling me to keep my distance. Maybe it's just because he's not who I thought. He hasn't done anything actually threatening yet. “I mean, it's none of my business, I guess, but I have to admit I'm a little curious. It's not the kind of stuff you expect to find in your grandma's attic.”
“Nah, it's okay. I was in the Outlaw Sons for a while. I've been out of touch, so no idea what they're like now, but they were nasty back then. Murders, rapes, armed robbery, fuck, there was nothing they wouldn't do for a buck.” He catches himself and grins sheepishly. “Sorry, I've tried to lose the rough tone, but guess the memories are bringing it back.”
I shake my head. “It's fine.”
“Anyway, I had a girlfriend, and she wasn't thrilled about it. She worried that I was going to get hurt, and one day shit went south and I decided she was right. But I knew too much, and I'd seen too much, and they came for me when I tried to call it quits. Scary times, for sure. I barely got out alive. I had a dog, sweetest guy I'd ever known, but he didn't make it. Your grandma helped me bury Brutus in the backyard here under the roses. Shit, still fucking hurts to think about it.” He scratches the back of his head and looks away. “Your Grandma took me in. Let me crash here for a couple of weeks while I figured things out. By the time I left, I didn’t want anything to remind me of that time of my life. Too many bad memories, you know? I left it all here and I guess she packed it up just in case. Honestly, I'd almost forgotten about it, at least until I got your message.”
His story lines up with so much of what I already know, but it feels a little too easy. “Well, give me a moment, and I'll go get the box.”
“Sure, sure. No hurry.” He looks around again. “Man, this place brings back a lot of memories. Mind if I look around a little, just to relive a moment or two?”
Something about him makes me want to say no, but nothing I can put my finger on. As a single woman, alone in my house with a man I don't really know, maybe that's good enough, but he really hasn't done anything to warrant my suspicion. So I nod. “Yeah, sure. Downstairs at least. The upstairs is a mess.” I smile and shrug apologetically.
While he satisfies his nostalgia, I grab my phone off my desk so I have it close. I spot Dragon’s message. Crap, I had the sound off when I was working. So much for hoping they'll show up and back me up.
Best thing I can do for my unease is to give him the box and send him on his way, so I find it and carry it down.