Page 98 of Price of Angels

“Oh my God!” Holly groaned. She clapped her free hand over her eyes, hoping that when she pulled it away, Ava Lécuyer wouldn’t be approaching them, and this would all be a bad dream. “You can’t ask someone to be my friend!”

When she peeked between her fingers, he was frowning at her. “You asked me to be your friend.”

“That was a joke! That was my bad flirting! That was…well that was me asking you. You can’t go ask one of my customers to have lunch with me. Oh my God,” she repeated, “Michael, why? Why would you do this?”

He kept frowning, but it was past the point of further argument, because there was Ava, standing beside Michael, in tall black boots and black coat, hints of makeup on her pale face, looking much more the writer than the biker wife.

She smiled at Holly, a twinkle of amusement in her dark eyes. “Holly, I just happened to be driving by, and I had this crazy idea that you might like to walk up the block and have lunch with me at Stella’s.” A quick wink. She must have heard her exchange with Michael, and was going to forge ahead anyway.

Holly was bombarded with shame, embarrassment, nervousness, but she nodded. Had Michael asked her about this before, she would have staunchly refused. But she couldn’t bear to be rude when Ava was waiting in front of her.

She managed a weak smile. “That sounds nice.”

“Let’s go get out of this cold,” Ava said, waving with her fingertips and turning to head up the sidewalk. “I’m sure Michael’s got cars to work on back at the shop anyway.” She shot a pointed look at him that Holly didn’t miss.Leave us, it said.I’ve got this. Don’t worry.

Michael nodded. “I’ll come by later.”

Then there was nothing else to do but fall into step beside Ava and walk with her to Stella’s Café on Market Square.

Holly watched the toes of her boots, stepping over the cracks. She tugged her hands into her sleeves, felt the breath shuddering in her lungs, and sought desperately for some inane nicety to say. She was always so good at this: polite small talk with strangers, all smiles and charm and goodwill. But this was different, because Michael had asked this woman to come on her behalf. Ava was here out of obligation. And so Holly’s tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth.

When she heard Michael’s bike start up again, and knew he couldn’t hear them, she blurted, “I’m so sorry he asked you to do this. Believe me, it wasn’t my idea. I think he thinks he’s being sweet, and helpful, but he doesn’t understand women, or social manners, or anything like that, and he’s really stepped in it. I’m so sorry, Ava.” She turned a pleading glance on the brunette beside her. “You don’t have to do this.”

Ava frowned. “Do what? Eat lunch? Trust me, I do have to do that. When the morning sickness isn’t turning me inside out, I’m starving.”

Holly took a deep breath, flustered and near tears. “You don’t have to spend time with me.”

Ava came to a halt, forcing Holly to do the same, her long coat swinging dramatically around her calves. Her frown was thoughtful. “Do you know how many times Michael’s spoken to me?”

Not sure where this was going, Holly shook her head.

“Twice.” Ava held up two fingers. “The first time probably doesn’t count, because I think he was trying to ask me the same thing he did the second time he spoke to me.” Small smile. “The man doesn’t talk. He isn’t friendly – not even out of basic politeness. I think he even hates me. But he came to me and asked me to reach out to you. That’s how much he cares and worries about you.” Her smile became more serious. “I think, even if we never talk to each other again, that we ought to at least honor the fact that he’s so madly in love with you that he’s trying to find friends for you, just so you’ll be happy.”

Holly opened her mouth – and could say nothing. For a moment, she couldn’t even breathe.

Madly in love with her?

She shook her head.

Ava’s grin widened. “Oh yes. You grow up with this bunch, you learn how to speak Biker.” She leaned forward, preparing to take a step. “So, lunch? Stella’s the best cook in the city.”

Holly finally swallowed. “Sure. I could eat.”

“The car’s registered to Abraham Jessup.” Ratchet glanced up at him, brows tucked together. A silent question about what the hell Michael was doing investigating Jessup on his own, since Ghost had said the club would maintain relations with him, for now.

Michael ignored the look. “Address?”

On his laptop, Ratchet pulled up a second browser window where he’d already tracked down Jessup’s house on Google Maps, and switched it to Earth mode, so they could see the street.

“According to this, he’s in Pinewood, which is west of Nashville. Middle of nowhere,” Ratchet said. He zoomed in on the property with the cursor and Michael saw the white shape of a house, empty fields, a building he guessed was the barn, and lots and lots of woods.

The place where Holly had been a prisoner for all of her life.

“That’s not where he is now,” Michael said, frustrated. “Where’s he living around here?”

Ratchet shrugged. “I know what you know. This is the address the vehicle registration gives me. I don’t have anything else to go on.”

Michael nodded. “Thanks.”

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