soothing tone.
“Thank you. It’s my parents. Oh, here you are. Ah, you don’t have a checkout date?” She put a piece of paper on the desk along with his ID.
“No, I don’t.” He signed the paper where he needed, not saying any more than that.
“Do you have some luggage? I can get you a cart,” she offered.
“This is it. I travel light. Is there anything else I need to sign?” Keys could see she was nervous but unless he could change from...well him to a man in a suit there wasn’t anything he could do.
“Ah, yeah, no. Here’s your key.” She rattled off the times they ate and offered to show him the amenities, which he declined.
“I’ll find my way, thank you.” He fished his wallet back out, the chain connected to it jangling as he did so. Inside he had credit cards and probably more cash than the young girl thought a biker like him would have, if the widening of her eyes was any indication.
“Oh, the general store is open until seven on weeknights and nine on the weekends,” Kendra said.
“Huh, so that’s not changed. The Thompsons’ still own it?” he asked.
Her eyes widened. “Are you from here?”
Keys could’ve kicked himself. “Nah, I’m from California, kid. Here you go.” He gave her a fifty-dollar bill. “Make sure you study hard and don’t mess around. Hard work and grit will get you far.”
He turned away from the counter, lifting his duffel into his left hand, always keeping his right free. Supper time was a good hour away, so he didn’t expect to see any guests in the main part of the converted old home. He’d purposefully requested the master suite, paying twice the fee in order to secure it with an open-ended reservation. Since young Kendra hadn’t been able to see all that, her mother must not have put those details into the system. Again, a condition of his rental. Having money did a lot for a person, greasing a few palms got you into places that were locked tight before.
PALMER HEARD THE WHISPERS at the grocery store. Lionsville had no clue who the man in black riding the Harley truly was, but she did. Her stomach did a slow roll. She placed her hand over her mouth, hiding the grin. Good lawd, it had been years since she’d seen the bad boy who’d captured her teen heart, then ripped it out when he’d up and left without a word. She didn’t blame him, not when she was aware of the abuse he suffered. Oh, she was sure it was worse than even she’d suspected since it had only been the one time she’d stumbled upon him, but there had been more than one occasion he’d come to school sporting a black eye, limping, or holding his arm too close to his side like he’d been injured. It wasn’t until she’d gone to look for him one fall day, getting a whole lot more than an eyeful, that she realized exactly how awful his homelife had been. One couldn’t actually call it home. They’d all known it, the town, the teachers, even her grandfather. Yet nobody had lifted a hand to intervene, not back then.
That was until she found him lying on a rock in a stream near the river. Her heart pounded from the memory. He was nearly three years older than she’d been, almost eighteen to her barely fifteen, but she couldn’t have looked away if a bomb had gone off. He’d been bruised, and completely naked. Just the memory of his young lithe body was enough to make her blush.
“Why, Palmer Kincaid, if he’s not the cutest little thing. He’s the spittin’ image of you as a baby.”
She smiled up at Lauralei, the woman who’d been running the store since the dawn of time, or so it seemed.
“Good afternoon, Lauralei. I don’t know about that, but I do think he’s adorable,” she agreed.
Lauralei, waved her right hand in a shooing motion, making a tsktsk sound. “When you gonna let me babysit him for you? We were really sorry to hear about Thomas.”
It took monumental effort for her not to growl at the older woman. Her husband had been an abusive bastard. Would she wish death on anyone? God, if she’d been asked two years ago, she’d have said no to most cases, but that had been when she’d had rose colored glasses. On her wedding night they’d been ripped off, stomped on, and tossed in the