It’s totally fucked up, and I know that, but I know Grace would be pleased, at least a little about that part of things. She would also be a little bit smug that I got off with a biker.
Thoughts of Grace get me moving again, reversing out of the driveway and heading to Angel Harbor Choppers because I found something that can help us figure out who killed my best friend. I sat up most of the night reading her diary, which I finally found hidden under her mattress.
Grace wrote a lot, just about every single day. Reading her words was almost like having her here with me. Even when I was being a total bitch to her, she was gracious about my shortcomings.
She just doesn’t understand because her worldview is so limited.
All McKenna needs is someone who loves her—for her. Not the money.
I can’t even be mad at her assessment because she was right, and it isn’t the first time someone has said those things to me. About me. Whatever. In her personal diary, where she could be cruel and mean, she was still kind and gracious.
“I miss you so damn much, Grace.” A tear slides down my cheek as I turn the corner to find the brick and glass box that houses Ace Motors. I frown at the sign and then back at the navigation screen, grunting because the address isn’t the same. I take a moment to consider the fact that Ace owns this place. He’s a legitimate business owner.
Angel Harbor Choppers is the other glass and brick building on the other side of a large blacktop parking lot. There are plenty of cars there, but primarily motorcycles in the lot between the two buildings.
Okay, here goes nothing.
I pick up the red leather diary and press it against my chest before sliding it into my oversized Chanel tote with the chain strap. I step out of the car.
I took extra care with my appearance this morning, knowing I would need every ounce of confidence I could muster to deal with Mark. The white mini dress hugs my curves in all the right places, showing off shapely legs that look a mile long in my red stilettos. I push my shoulders back and walk inside.
The place is mostly quiet, at least in the front. Behind the metal door marked Employees Only, I hear very masculine laughter.
The door opens, and an attractive Hispanic guy walks out with a wide smile on his face, dark eyes taking me in with appreciation. “Hey, sweetheart, what can I do for you today? You looking to buy a new bike?”
I glance at the tag on his black t-shirt and then back at his smiling dark eyes. “Hi, Joaquin, I was wondering if Mark, err…Ace was here?”
His brows dip in confusion. “Mark, huh?” His lips pull into a lopsided grin, and he nods. “Yeah. Okay, let me see if Mark is available.”
I can tell by Joaquin’s amusement that I should have called him Ace from the start, but it’s too late now.
So I turn my attention to the photos of big burly men on what can only be called monster bikes with insanely tall handlebars, giant pipes on the sides, flames and skulls decorating the leather seats and saddlebags. Ace appears in many of them as the proud proprietor.
“McKenna?” How a man can say so much with one word is beyond me, but I swear I can hear the curiosity about why I’m here and what in the hell do I want with him.
I turn and smile at the thick brows beaded in confusion and just the teensiest hint of anger. “Mark, hi. How are you?”
“Fine.” The word is practically a grunt, but I don’t take it personally because he is a man of few words. Very few.
“Oh, great. Good for you.” I’m babbling, and I know it, but he’s just so big, so much man, and so damn quiet that it sparks my urge to fill the quiet.
“I stopped by because I need to talk to you.” His brown gaze doesn’t waver, so I step around the small counter because it’s a better surprise to show him the diary than to tell him.
Before I can explain away the scowl on his face, the front door smacks open and scares a gasp out of me. I turn to see a man with blond hair and angry dark eyes standing in the doorway, a smarmy grin on his face. He’s wearing a black t-shirt underneath a leather vest with several patches sewn onto it. He looks mean, and I find myself sliding closer to the warmth and strength emanating from Mark.
The blond man smiles at me before turning his full attention to Mark. “Ace, just the man I’m looking for. We need to talk.”
“I don’t have shit to say to you, Nogales.”