Hollow (Hollow Point #1) (3 page)

When Tatum finally emerged from the salon, she looked like an entirely different person.

“I don’t even recognize myself!”

“That’s a good thing,” I quipped, and her smile faltered for a second. “I just mean, it’s nice to change things up every once in a while. Keep the guys on their toes.” I winked, and the happiness returned to her. I wasn’t used to people being so damn sensitive. It was obnoxious, but Tatum would make a good ally. She knew everyone. “Come on, let’s complete the look.” I looped my arm in hers and pulled her into the nearest restroom, shoving the dress bag into her hand with her new shoes.

“I can’t walk in those.”

“It’s not that hard. Besides, how are you going to wear heels to prom if you don’t get some practice in?”

Reluctantly, she took the dress and the shoes and slipped into a stall.

I touched up my mascara and smeared some gloss on my lips as I waited.

“This is too tight,” she called out and I rolled my eyes.

“It’s supposed to be tight so people can see what you’re working with.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” she groaned as the stall door opened and I caught her reflection in the mirror before spinning around to face her.

“You look beautiful,” I praised her.

“I walk like a linebacker.” Taking a few steps toward me, she wobbled, and I grabbed her hands to keep her from spraining her ankle.

“I’m sure Bryce will like you even more. I always thought those football guys were a little
experimental
if you know what I mean. Why do they need to smack each other’s asses all the time?”

“I’m not sure they really do that in high school.”

“Whatever. It gets easier. Here. Grab the sink to steady yourself.” I placed her hands on the porcelain and pulled the mascara from my bag. “Now we work the
real
magic.”

“Will she be home for dinner?” Greta asked as she put a tin of muffins into the oven.

“She didn’t say.”

“Will you?” she asked, as I kissed her on top of her head.

“I’ll try.”

I headed out the door as the sun began to sink. The rain had held out all evening. I rode over to
The Hollow Hole,
walking past the bar and into the backroom that was off limits to the general public.

“Hey,” I nodded to the man we referred to as Father Time because he looked like he was a hundred years old. Living life on fast women and fast bikes had taken its toll on him. “I need a favor.”

“What’s new?” he asked with a laugh that soon turned into a hacking cough. He grabbed a scrap of paper and a pen, sliding it across the desk. “Write it down. I lost my memory about the same time I lost my looks and you know we need to keep records.”

I laughed as I scribbled out what I needed. “Thanks, ole’ man. Any training today?”

“Topher was going to stop in, but you know how he is,” he replied with a shrug. “Too busy chasing that fast-ass girl from Emory.” I knew exactly who he was talking about. We’d done a charity ride a few months back with the guys from my dad’s old club, the Hollow Hellions. The club had charters all down the East Coast, but it all began here in Hollow Point in the sixties. I had trouble playing well with others, but I joined them for rides whenever I had the chance, and they threw work my way whenever they needed a tune-up. They had helped me start my shop and owned a few more businesses in town, this bar included.

Since the day I’d accepted their loan, I’d been working my ass off to pay them back and cut ties, but the large tattoo across my back would be a constant reminder that I’d sold my soul to the devil, and he didn’t give refunds. I belonged to the club, even if I refused to sit at the table.

The ride was only a couple of hours, but we’d stopped off in Emory for drinks Topher was falling all over himself for the bartender’s daughter, Cadence. She’d slipped me her number when he went out back to take a piss and his ego never recovered.

“I’m gonna get a few sets in.” I walked over to the old bench that was now more duct tape than vinyl and laid back, positioning my hands on the bar over my head before lifting it from its resting place and bringing the heavy weights to my chest.

I tried to keep my mind from worrying about Tatum out with her new friend. Girls like her always want something from somebody, and the last thing I needed was someone else trying to take advantage of her. I had my hands full as it was.

For all of the shit that Tatum had been through in her short existence, she was still too trusting when it came to others. I owed her my life, and that meant I would do whatever it took to make sure no one ever hurt her again.

Number one on my list was to get Bryce out of her life. If her new
friend
proved to be a problem, I’d deal with her later.

***

I finished my workout before heading back to my house. It wasn’t long before the guys began to roll in but my eyes were glued to the clock wondering where the hell Tatum was.

Lucas and Liam sat on the larger couch, animatedly telling a story as they talked over each other so no one could understand what they were saying but it had something to do with a set of twins and a bottle of Tequila. They were brothers, but they didn’t look like they were related at all. Liam was over six foot tall and scrawny with shaggy dirty blonde hair. Lucas was barely five foot and stocky with hair black as coal.

“You got a fight this week?” I asked Topher, who had been glaring at me since they walked in.

“My sister was asking about you today.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my seat as I stretched out my legs. “Are we going to start this shit again? How long are you going to be pissed off at me?”

“I dunno, Knox. How about I take out little Tatum and see how you feel about it.”

I sat up as Liam’s hand slapped across my chest to keep me from jumping out of my seat and beating the shit out of him. “Watch your fucking mouth,” I snapped. “I don’t want to get blood on Greta’s carpet.”

“We can go at it anytime, asshole.” He held his hands out, challenging me.

I leaned forward, clenching my jaw as I struggled not to say something I would regret. I knew why Topher was acting the way he was. I would be worse, much worse if someone messed with Tatum.

“It’s between
us
. It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“She’s family. She is my business,” he snapped.

The front door handle turned, and our conversation went quiet.

THREE

We stepped inside of Tatum’s home to a living room full of guys. Their conversation fell silent as all eyes locked onto us.

“Damn, Tatum. What happened to you?” One of the guys asked, his eyes lit up before Knox smacked him across the chest with the back of his hand.

“Shut up, Liam,” Knox barked. The other guy’s mouth snapped closed. It was evident Knox was the leader of their little group. They looked like the kind of people that would make me cross the street if I saw them coming but Tatum didn’t seem the least bit scared.

“Just a makeover,” she replied nervously, her eyes cast down at the floor¸ embarrassed. We’d have to work on her self-esteem because no friend of mine could act like a damn wallflower.

“Whose your friend?” Another guy asked as we walked across the room. My eyes flitted to the man with the buzz cut and a tattoo that was creeping out of the collar of his t-shirt and up the right side of his neck.

“Mind your business, Topher,” Knox warned.

“Sorry, man. I didn’t know you were already tappin’ that too. It’s getting hard to keep track.”

“I’m above your pay grade,” I muttered as we walked by and the other guys all laughed at him.

“Bitch,” I heard him whisper as I followed Tatum up the stairs into her room.

Tatum closed the door behind us before letting out a small squeal. “Did you see that?
None
of Knox’s friends have ever even spoken to me before. Well, not that he’d let them.”

“Why would you
want
them to?” I groaned but her enthusiasm was contagious, and I was lying if Knox’s face didn’t permeate my thoughts. “It’s amazing what a little makeup can do.” I was beaming with pride at the reaction my little transformation had garnered. “Just wait until school tomorrow. Bryce is going to lose his shit!”

A light tapping at the door cut off our giggling.

The door opened without waiting for a response and Knox stepped inside, his arms folded over his chest and a scowl on his face. “What the hell did you do?” He asked, staring at me as if I’d kicked his poor, homely puppy.

“It’s called a makeover. She looks great. You almost can’t tell she’s local.” I shrugged.

“She looked great
before,
and there is nothing wrong with being from here.”

“You mean
before
your friends ever noticed she was alive?” My eyebrow rose, challenging him.
Who the hell did he think he was talking to?

“She doesn’t need to be on the radar of guys like that.”

“Guys like
you
?” I snapped back as his eyes narrowed.

“It’s just for fun,” Tatum spoke up causing Knox to sigh, his shoulders dropping slightly. The tension of the moment evaporated.

His eyes went to me and back to her. “Just make sure you wipe all that shit off your face before Greta sees it.” He stepped back into the hall, closing the door behind us before we both laughed.

“God, I am
so
glad I don’t have a big brother that loses his shit like that.”

Tatum turned to the mirror over her dresser, examining her face. “Oh, Knox Reid, or
Obnoxious
Reid as I like to call him, is
not
my brother. ”

“Oh,” I muttered. As I opened my mouth to ask who he was exactly, my phone rang, nearly giving me a heart attack. I dug my phone from my bag, rolling my eyes as I saw it was my father. I answered the call, prepared for one of his bullshit lectures.

“What?” I groaned.

“Would it hurt you to be nice to Piper?” He asked, and I rolled my eyes.

“Yes, it
would
,” I snapped. “Just because you chose to shack up with a whore, doesn’t mean I have to accept it. We both know she is only temporary.”

“Look,” he sighed loudly, and I could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You don’t have to like it, but you
will
show her respect.”

I glanced up to see Tatum’s eyes locked on to mine in the mirror, listening intently. She looked shocked to hear me speak to my father that way. My dad was young, having me at only seventeen years old. He didn’t know how to be a parent and once his career took off, my parents left me in the care of various nannies. We were never close.

“I had plans with my new friend Tatum. You are the one who told me to socialize. I couldn’t bring her along, Dad.”

He was silent for a moment, and I knew I’d won the argument, even if only temporarily.

“Do you mind if Tatum sleeps over? I’d love for you to meet my new friend.”

“It’s a school night,” Tatum whisper-yelled and I rolled my eyes.

“Fine. Just try to be nice to Piper, okay?”

“I’ll try,” I replied before ending the call. “Pack a bag!”

“What? I can’t. Greta will never let me.”

I rolled my eyes as I sank down on the edge of her bed. “She won’t find out. Come on, live a little.”

“She’ll be so mad if she catches me,” Tatum shook her head, her teeth digging into her bottom lip.

“Do you know who my father is?” I asked, an eyebrow raised. I knew rumors had been circulating the school about my family because of my wealth, but I didn’t bother to set anyone straight. I enjoyed the speculation.

“Um… I heard he was a director or something.”

I laughed, not because my father was unintelligent, but because I could never picture him doing something out of the public spotlight. “Not even close. Come on. You are going to freak out.”

She smiled, and I knew I had convinced her, but we still had to figure out how to get her out of the house.

“Knox won’t let me just walk out of the door with you,” she cautioned, and I shot her a wink.

“Leave Knox to me. Pack! I’ll text you when it’s safe for you to go.”

I slipped out of the bedroom and glanced down the hallway. A door partway down the hall sat open, the light off but I could see the toilet and sink just inside. It was smaller than my closet. I walked by and stopped at the next door.

I ran my fingers through my hair before gripping the knob and shoving it open. Knox stood inside with a towel hung loosely on his hips. My eyes traveled down the hard ridges of his abdomen to the muscles that disappeared below the fabric.
Wow.

“Can I help you?” He asked as my tongue ran out over my now dry lips.

“I was looking for the restroom.”

“You walked by it to get here, Princess,” he shot back, not phased that he was practically naked in front of me.

“It’s Riley, actually.”

“Riley?” He cocked an eyebrow. “What kind of name is that?”

“It means a luxurious existence.”

He shook his head, scoffing. “Fucking rich people.”

I closed the door behind me and took a few steps toward him. “Where are your friends?”

“Where is
yours
?”

“I asked you first.”

“They left after one of them decided to call you a bitch and another hit on Tatum. Thanks for that, by the way.” His eyes narrowed. 

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” I asked as his gaze dipped to my chest before he looked over his shoulder.

“It’s right there.”

“Thanks,” I smiled up at him as I walked by, slipping into the small bathroom. I pulled out my phone and typed a text to Tatum letting her know she should hurry down to my car.

I turned on the sink and let it run for a moment as I looked around the tiny space. Knox’s discarded clothing lay in a pile on the floor outside of the shower. The mirror was still fogged, and I ran my palm over it to look at my reflection. My gaze dropped to the bullet necklace that was now in the soap dish. I picked it up, flipping it over in my hand. It was lighter than I imagined it would be and the name Knox was imprinted in the bottom of the shell.

My phone vibrated, startling me and causing me to drop the necklace, the chain tangling in my fingers, before it hit the water in the sink. Tatum had sent me a message letting me know she was in my car and waiting. Turning off the sink, I opened the bedroom door to see Knox pulling his black boxer briefs over his ass. My eyes locked on to the large tattoo on his upper back.

Glancing over his shoulder at me, he smirked. “You should be getting home. It’s a school night. Don’t want to miss your bedtime.”

I could tell from his tone he was purposefully pointing out that I was younger than him, but I didn’t let it phase me. “What are you, like thirty?”

“Nineteen.” He smiled, amused. “What are you, like twelve?”

“Oh, please. Seventeen. No twelve year old has a rack like this. Tatum has a headache anyway. She went to bed.”

He nodded but didn’t respond. I walked toward his door, and as my fingers gripped the knob, he spoke up.

“Tatum has enough trouble, she doesn't need more coming lookin’ for her.” He didn’t elaborate, but I knew he was warning me to stay away from her. I wasn’t like these people, and I stuck out like a sore thumb, but Knox didn’t
know
me.

“I suppose you think
you’re
some kind of
good
influence?”

Laughing, he shook his head. “No. Not at all. But it’s my job to keep her safe.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“Because if I don’t, who will?” He sighed before running his hand through his damp hair causing water droplets to fall, running down his toned chest.

“What kind of name is Knox, anyway?”

“I was named after Lennox Lewis. I guess my dad wanted to make sure I could hold my own.”

“Can you?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

“With two hands, Princess.” He winked, and I felt my face heat from his crude remark.

I slipped out into the hallway before glancing back at him. “I’ll see you later, Knox.”