Jake grinned like a man knowing his two best girls were getting along, and Maya could only nod. Because if Holly ever wanted Maya to do a tattoo, then she’d do it and it would be fucking perfect. Maya didn’t fuck up ink.
Because ink is permanent, she told herself. Just like she’d thought the idea of Jake being in her life would be. Yet unlike the ink on her skin, she could feel him slipping away, fading into a forgotten memory.
And she didn’t like how she felt about that.
Didn’t like it at all.
Chapter Three
Border Gentry ran a hand over his shaved head and forced himself not to get on the back of his bike and head in the other direction. He’d come to Denver for a legitimate reason, but he’d also come because he knew at his age, he had to stop trying to outrun his demons.
They just kept finding him and showing him the bottom of a bottle with no end of misery in sight. And since Border didn’t want to end up in a ditch from exhaustion or death from booze, he was on the outskirts of Denver, helmet in hand, and the weight of a whole lot of living on his shoulders.
He still couldn’t quite believe it had been over fifteen years since he’d been home.
Home.
Odd word choice for a place that had tried to kill him more than once—though he’d faced his mortality in countless other places in the time he’d been gone, so really, his fate couldn’t be the reason he was worried about coming home.
He’d left behind his best friend, the one man who Border had let see inside him. The one man he’d loved yet had never told. He’d had two years of tortured bliss with Jake Gallagher, and had run from it when things got too tough; when the idea of who he could become if he didn’t get away from his father scared him more than the idea of being alone.
Border pushed those thoughts from his brain and threw a leg over his bike as he secured his helmet. The vibrations of the engine went through his legs and up his back as he started the bike and let out a breath. He was calmer now, the bike an extension of him that had always made him feel a little more whole. Idiotic thinking on his part, but when he was younger, he’d latched on to the idea as hard as he could.
Though he wore leathers as well as gloves and a full helmet with facemask, the wind was a cruel mistress, slapping at him as he made his way down the road. There wasn’t snow or ice on the ground, but it was far too cold for him to be riding like this. His truck was at another compound, and he couldn’t pick it up until the next morning. So, for now, he needed a warm meal and a place to sleep before he figured out the next step of his far too vague plan.
Step one of that plan: don’t die.
Step two: find Jake.
Step three: keep the girl safe.
Step four: repeat step one.
Step five: figure out what the fuck to do with his life.
Pretty easy, if he thought about it. The lights of a bar he’d been to a couple of times when he was younger shone in the darkness, and Border’s stomach rumbled. He could use a bite to eat before he found a motel to crash in. He pulled off the road and into the parking lot, his body shaking from the cold.
When he walked into the bar, he found it mostly empty except for a few people. It was too damned cold for most sane individuals to be out on a weeknight. He sidled up to the bar and prayed they still served food. He thought he remembered they had, but it had been too long for him to be sure, and frankly, everything always changed.
Always.
“What can I get you?” the large man asked from behind the bar.
“You still serving food?” Border asked.
The man nodded and pointed at a menu. “Yep.”
Border quickly glanced at it, his stomach rumbling loudly. “I’ll have a Coke and a cheeseburger. All the fixings.”
“Fries?”
“Sounds good.” Really fucking good since his mouth was already watering. He didn’t care if it tasted like shit at this point, he was so hungry.
“Make that two, Bob,” a man said from behind him before taking the seat next to Border.
Border turned and blinked. “Storm? Storm Montgomery?”
Storm smiled wide, looking pretty much the same as he had all those years ago. Sure, there were a few lines around his mouth and eyes, and he’d gained a few more muscles, but he was still big, bearded, and a Montgomery.
“Border Gentry,” the other man said. “It’s been too fucking long. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Border stood up and hugged Storm, hitting the other man on the back a few times. “Of all the bars…”
Storm rolled his eyes. “I live close to here actually, so I should be the one saying that.”
The bartender handed over two Cokes and shook his head before walking away without a word. Border lifted his brow at Storm before holding up his glass in salute. Storm held up his glass too and snorted.
“Bob doesn’t like it when we don’t order booze,” Storm said in answer to the silent question. They each took a drink, and Border gulped half of his down. He needed the sugar since he was so freaking tired.
“I’m on the bike so I’m not about to drink,” Border said.