Full Throttle (26 page)

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Sammy giggled as she listened to Tony and Josh banter.
The pair were clearly close as they discussed their childhood and lives, but
Sammy sensed there was more to the stories than just two incorrigible lads.
There were no stories including their dad, and when they had mentioned their
mother once, an awkward silence strung out until Sammy broke the silence and
asked for another beer.

“Rides bikes, is clever, sexy as hell, and she
drinks pints of beer. Fucking hell, Josh, I’m surprised you brought her here
with all this testosterone knocking about.”

Sammy looked up when a tall, handsome, but scary-looking
man with a short haircut stood by their table. He grinned at Josh, nodded his
head to Tony, and held out his hand for Sammy to shake. When his fingers closed
around hers, Sammy felt a little like a bug under a microscope. She turned and
glanced at Josh, hoping he at least knew this man, and when she saw his amused
glare, Sammy turned back to the stranger.

“It’s true. All this testosterone does screw with my
female brain.” Sammy said playfully as she pulled her hand back to pick up her
pint. She eyed the man over her glass and grinned when he raised a brow and
shot her a look of surprise.

He dipped lower and smiled widely, his blue eyes
sparkling with friendliness. “I’m Jason. You must be Sammy?”

Ah, so this was the one in the army? Sammy noticed
the dark smudges under his eyes and the way his gaze shifted around the bar. His
arms were built like machine guns, all muscle and tendons. He had tattoos like Josh,
though his were more colorful and larger. They covered his entire forearm.
There was no doubt this man was military. He oozed danger and threat, and even
though he watched her, Sammy could tell he knew where everyone was in the bar.

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

Josh leaned forward, wrapped his arm around Sammy’s
shoulders, and pointed to the spare pint on the table. “I got you a beer.”

Jason took a seat opposite her and scowled around
the bar. “Not much changes in this place.”

Josh nodded and sipped his pint.

“How long have you been gone?” Sammy asked,
interested.

Jason put his pint down, wiped the froth off his top
lip and replied. “Thirteen months.”

Sammy raised her brows and said, “Wow. That’s a long
time. Have you been in Iraq all that time?”

Jason shook his head. “Nine month on, four weeks
off, but last time I didn’t return home.”

Sammy watched how he turned his head and scowled at
the bar. A young, bleach-blonde haired girl with bright red lips was serving.
She was whooping and laughing with many a man, their hungry gazes locked on her
as if she were their next meal.

Jason turned and looked at Josh. “She
like
that every night?”

Josh glanced to the bartender and nodded. He looked
at Sammy. “That’s Jason’s little sister, Paige.”

“Oh.” Sammy said awkwardly. She looked at the
raucous girl and Jason’s brooding glare made sense. When Paige took a twenty from
a biker and stuffed it in her shirt, Jason turned his back on her and shook his
head wearily.
“Bloody stupid kid.”
He sipped his beer.

Sammy sensed tension and she sunk back, not knowing
how to deal with sibling spats, considering she was an only child from a family
that would rather disappear into another room than have an argument. She looked
to Josh, but he seemed relaxed and not at all tense by Jason’s clear
irritation. Sammy sat back, picked up her pint and tried to follow suit, though
she did feel intrigued by the girl at the bar.

Would she have been that wild if she’d been allowed?
Or was Sammy always supposed to be quiet and shy no matter her upbringing? She
watched the barwoman for a while and Sammy found
herself
a little envious. The young woman was having a whale of a time. And from what
Sammy could see, though she was acting raucous and wild, she kept her distance,
the solid wooden bar always between her and the flirtatious bikers.

She didn’t think Jason should look so worried. Paige
seemed to have it right. Though, what did Sammy know?

She sighed and sipped her pint again.

The conversation moved onto motorbikes and Sammy
found herself joining in the debates about whether counter-steering was the
right approach to turning on curved country roads. Tony re-joined their table,
and when the discussion moved to Sammy’s crash, she noticed that Josh seemed
angered. Sammy moved closer into his embrace and snuggled.

“It makes you upset that I crashed?”

“Too fucking right.”
Josh
stated harshly and Sammy smiled. His gruff swearing and harsh words shocked her
less these days, and in bed, those words had the ability to make her wild with
want for her sexy, hard biker. Who knew Sammy the Saint actually liked
swearing?

Josh scowled, ran the back of his hand down her
cheek, and shook his head. “If I hadn’t made you to go faster that day, you
wouldn’t have plowed into that fucking car. I feel guilty for that every day.”

Sammy frowned, thrown a little by the idea that he thought
he had made her do anything. She sat up straighter. “Made me?” She queried, not
liking the way Josh said that, as if Sammy had no choice.

Josh gritted his teeth, and Sammy watched as he
nodded. Her chest restricted a little and she shook her head. “I chose to go
faster, and besides, you shouldn’t feel guilty.”

Josh turned his body so he was facing her. He
scowled and shook his head. “Of course I feel fucking guilty. You were a
beginner, and because I wanted to show off, you ended up injured. Of course, I
feel bad for that. Why do you think I was at the hospital for so long? Why do
you think I offered to look after you?”

Sammy flinched away from his hand and stared at Josh.
“You were only at the hospital because you felt guilty? You only offered to
look after me because of … guilt?”

“No! Wait. No!” Josh said, but a terrible feeling of
shame climbed her spine. A lump the size of a cricket ball formed in her throat,
and Sammy found it hard to breathe, or even think past what Josh had said.

Idiot!
Of course.
Silly,
silly, Sammy, imagining that Josh could have felt something for her other than
guilt.
Shame stung her cheeks and Sammy dipped her head for a moment. She tried to
suck in a breath, but she found her lungs had tightened painfully. She glanced
up to where Josh was watching her with concern, his expression just confirming
her thoughts.

“Of course I felt guilty, Sam, but that wasn’t the
only reason I was at the hospital.” He reached for her fingers and stroked the
back of her hand gently. “Fuck, Sam, don’t look at me like that.”

Sammy glanced around the bar, but no one seemed to
notice that her heart was breaking. No one seemed to notice that she had just
received the biggest punch in the gut of her life. Sammy floundered as her mind
replayed Josh’s words.
Why else do you
think I stayed so long at the hospital
? This whole thing, this relationship,
was built on Josh feeling sorry for the lonely, sad geek? He felt guilty and
responsible, because she had no one else to turn to.

Sammy folded upon
herself
inside and bit back a pained moan.

“ Sam
—”
Josh tipped her head up with his thumb and pressed a kiss to her lips. Sammy
cringed, mortified that Josh felt she was so pathetic, he had to look after her
like some reject. She pulled back a little, hating the tears prickling at her
eyes. Josh scowled at her and laid a flat palm on her cheek. He searched her
gaze and Sammy looked away, too ashamed of herself to maintain his stare.

Oh, God, all this time, she’d been falling in love,
and he’d been feeling guilty because of some misguided idea he caused her crash.
Of course, Josh was a gentleman, a caring person. Why hadn’t she assumed as
much?

Idiot!

She had to get out of this crowded, steamy bar. Her
head throbbed and she was losing the battle with tears. She pulled her chin
from his soft, but firm hold, and cleared her throat.

“I have to use the toilet.” She managed to say, but
Josh grabbed her chin and tipped her head back up so she faced him.

He stared at her with darkly intent eyes, his nose
flared and his jaw bunched at the sides. He searched her gaze and shook his
head. “Not until you tell me you’re ok? I said something that hurt you and
whatever it was, I didn’t mean it.” Josh looked a little lost, a lot confused
and Sammy felt stupid for her reaction.

Of course, how would he guess what he had said was
painful to her? He was not in love with her. He liked her, sure. But stupid
Sammy had hung her dreams on Josh, and he had dated her purely through guilt.

Sammy forced a smile and nodded. “I’m fine, just a
little tired.” She said, dropping her gaze again, torn in two at the sight of
Josh’s concern. Concern she now knew to mean less than she had hoped.

Silly Sammy.
The lonely girl who had never known affection.
Even being screwed up enough to confused friendly concern for love.

Mortified, Sammy pushed Josh’s hand away and climbed
to her feet. She thanked her stars she had become more nimble on her cast in
the last week, not sure she would have stayed in control of her emotions if
Josh had had to help her up.

Numbly, she hobbled toward the toilet. When she
reached the door, Sammy turned to look at Josh. He sat back scowling, but his
gaze was on his half-drunk pint rather than her.

Sammy took that opportunity and stepped outside. She
was relieved to see the line of taxi’s waiting outside the pub, and she hailed
one as she made her wobbly way over.

She climbed inside and breathed deeply. Her gaze
fell upon the large bar and the row of race bikes. Her tears stung her eyes,
and when the taxi driver asker her where to go, Sammy muttered her address, and
wrapped her arms around herself tightly.

Chapter
Twenty Two

The dark shadow huddled by the front door of Sammy’s
cottage was startled by the sound of a car as it rumbled along the driveway,
but he managed to climb back into the bush before he could be seen. He dipped low,
studied the small cottage, and swore under his breath, frustrated he hadn’t
been able to finish his plan.

He glanced at the small cutters in his palm and
closed his fist tightly. His knuckles still throbbed from delivering his
punishment to his wife, but he liked the pain, it was a source of focus—a
reminder of why he was here. All he had to do was cut the damn gas main and he could
go home. But the car, which he now saw was a taxi, had stopped him mid-job.

He sunk lower in the bushes and watched as the taxi
drove past the burned remains of Garret Briar’s home, the headlights drawing
shadows across the pompous bastard’s mansion, and he smiled triumphantly.
Garret had shown off like a fucking peacock inside that place, running
roughshod over whomever he felt like. Well no more. He had seen to that. Now
all he had to do was
get
rid of Sammy, and the money
Garret had loved would be his.

The taxi pulled up outside the small cottage. The
bright light inside the cab showed Sammy leaning forward to pay the driver. He
could see no one else.

“So, you are finally alone, are you?” He smiled
tightly and shifted onto his knees. He watched as Sammy stepped out of the cab.
She dug for her keys in her bag and hobbled towards the door.

He grinned wide.
“Alone and unable
to run.”
He glanced down to the cutters and a strange calm fell over
him. No more failed attempts. No more almost and nearly’s. He hated mess and faff.
He had started to doubt he could go through with it. But now, with this gifted
chance, he was going to end this. He watched Sammy turn on lights through her
house and he decided he would come back after she went to bed.

Turning on his heels and stalking through the bushes
and out the other side onto the main street, he jogged a little way to his car
and hopped inside. He took a moment to plan.
Always
meticulous, always controlled and deliberate.
He stared at the quiet
country road and breathed deep. Excitement singed his nerves and blood flowed
heavily through his veins.

He started the engine and indicated to pull out of
his spot.

All the way to his garage, he muttered. “Break in,
kidnap her, take her away somewhere and kill her, and the inheritance is yours.”
His heart thundered and guilt soared, but he tramped it down alongside of ideas
of what his wife would say.

He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head hard.
“The tramp would thank me.” He told himself and pulled his car into his drive.

Still, he kept quiet as he moved around the garage
and collected supplies. Twenty more minutes past, but when he pulled his car up
outside her house, the lights
were
off. He couldn’t
help but smile.

“Perfect.”