Chapter Five
AVAH
I jump when my phone starts to dance on the kitchen counter. Looking down at the incoming call, my heart leaps into my throat and my eyes widen.
HAWK
How many times did I reach for my phone to call him? How many times did I think about begging him to come and rescue me from this threat? How many times did I dream of this exact moment?
Thousands.
That’s how many, thousands.
Reaching for the phone, my fingers hover directly above it, but I can’t quite make myself pick it up and slide my thumb across the screen. Something stops me, something that I can’t quite control.
Turning my back on the small device, I reach for the refrigerator door, wrapping my fingers around the handle and tug it open. Extending my arm, I wrap my hand around the bottle of wine and pull it out before I slam the door closed.
I don’t have a balcony here, but that doesn’t stop me from walking over to the window and sliding it open. Sitting down next to it, I close my eyes as the cool night’s breeze washes over my face.
Lifting the bottle to my lips, I close my eyes, tilt my head back and take a huge drink from the bottle. I stay right there, next to the window and I drink. I ignore my dancing phone, the alerts from text messages and voicemails.
I ignore it all and I drink until I forget.
I turn into my father for the night. I drink to get drunk, to forget that I’m nothing and nobody. That I am just an old whore who wasted my entire twenties just to make a buck.
Before I know what’s happened, the sun is bright in my eyes and there’s a banging on the door. I try to look around the room, but it’s so bright and my head is pounding way too hard to even begin to think.
Stumbling and shuffling, I make my way toward the door. I don’t even look in the peephole, not that I could even focus on that tiny little hole, or even smaller person on the other side of it. Wrenching the door open, I tilt my head back and my eyes widen at the sight in front of me.
I don’t know who I expected to see, but this wasn’t it. “You’ve got yourself a problem, honey,” my neighbor announces.
It’s the man who smiles as he passes me, whose lingering gaze I feel every time we walk past one another. Blinking, I stare at him. I only know that his name is Keaston, and nothing else.
I’ve only seen him in passing, but as he watches me currently with a narrowed gaze, I have a feeling I’m going to be getting to know him a little better, and I don’t think that I have much of a choice about that.
He’s dressed similarly to Hawk, wearing old faded jeans, a tight T-shirt, a leather cut, and a beard. He’s hot too, though, with my massive hangover, it’s hard for me to stare too long without swaying.
I start to fall to the side and he reaches out. “Woah there, babe.”
Babe.
My body starts to tremble from the simple word. I don’t know why, no, that’s a lie. I know exactly why. Hawk. He always called me babe.
“Why you think I have a problem?” I whisper in a shaky voice.
His lips curve up into a kind smile and it’s then that I realize he must not be one of the bikers like Hawk is. Those guys only have kind smiles for their girls, nobody else, not ever.
Keaston shakes his head a couple of times, then wraps his hands around my waist and picks me up, setting me just inside of my door before he follows me inside and closes the front door behind him, locking it tight.
“You’re not a badass biker, are you?” I ask, my voice still slurring.
I shake my head and try to get my shit together, but I can’t. I’m still way too fucking drunk. There’s a moment of silence, then he chuckles. “What kind is that? Hmm?”
“Like a Savage Beast,” I whisper.
His eyes widen and he looks behind my shoulder before his gaze comes back to mine. “How do you know anything about them?” he demands.
My lips turn up into a grin. “I dated one once. My best friend is married to one and I stayed at their compound thingy for a few weeks in Arizona.”
“Babe,” he grunts.
I shrug a shoulder. “They were nice.”
“That’s not why I’m here, but bet your ass I’m going to be asking you some more questions about that, in-depth ones.”
Narrowing my gaze, I press my lips together. “So why are you here?” I demand. “I don’t know anything about you other than you’re cute and you’re my neighbor named Keaston.”
He chuckles. “You’re cute too, honey. I’m here because you got yourself a stalker and I don’t particularly like my sexy as fuck neighbor who works her ass off having some creep watching her every move and being… well, a fucking creep.”
I blink. Then I blink again, and then I blink a third time as my lips part.
“I do have a stalker, have you seen him?” I breathe.
His brows rise. “You know you do?” he asks.
“Ummm, yeah,” I snort. “He left me roses and creepy notes, and he found me alone at work yesterday and came up behind me. I never saw his face though.”
Saying the words aloud, talking about how this asshole has been basically terrorizing me, I try not to cry, but my eyes fill with unshed tears anyway. Lifting my hand, I motion for Keaston to come and sit on my tiny sofa.
The only things I kept from my old life were a few pieces of furniture, some clothes, and expensive jewelry that I figure I can sell someday if I get too hard
