06

Kate froze perceivably beneath an unsettling pair of gray eyes fixed a bit too intensely on her.

All else faded unto nothingness as her eyes danced fleetingly over an impeccable specimen of male, construed solidly of corded muscle and chiseled roughness. She was adamantly confident that she'd never encountered such a male. The sheer proximity and size of the man robbing her of any meager breath that dared to escape her.

Slivers of shadows clung to the hardened angles of an impenetrable countenance that surprisingly, beneath all the hardness, was a passably handsome face.

A rigid jaw-line that could shave granite, a chest broader than the average man and a tremendous set of shoulders that all of which signified 'badass', stood a towering, several inches over six feet. A dominance deemed unshakable, there was an undeniable air of charge and hostility that prompted a fierce and sudden compulsion to flee far from this menacing, formidable man.

She felt the heat of his muscled frame as it wrapped around her senses in a sensual cocoon, all the while those gray eyes fastened attentively to her face in an unnerving perusal.

The man exuded danger and menace and the manner in which his eyes appraised her, examining every inch of her, unhinged her entirely and she did what she knew best.

She fled.

She spun about on her heels, heedless to the many encompassing bodies, very much aware of those piercing, slate-eyes following her hasty departure out the door.

Cool air struck her flushed face and she inhaled a deep breath, sweeping an unsteady hand through her tousled dark hair.

"Kate!" Julie's heels scraped noisily against the blacktop as she came up from behind, "Are you alright?"

Closing her eyes and fearing she just may unravel into a hapless mess of uncontrollable emotion, she addressed Julie with what she hoped was a convincing smile of assurance, "I'm fine."

Julie stilled, her brows pulling with genuine concern, "What happened?"

She forced a meager smile, "Just a bad case of nerves."

Appearing emphatically worried, Julie slipped her arm through hers and said a bit guiltily, "I'm so sorry, Kate. I should have been a little more considerate. Let's get out of here."

Happily.

They slipped into the beige seats of Julie's jeep and the ignition hummed beneath the turn of the key.

"You must have made an impression." Julie confessed knowingly with a lopsided grin.

Still somewhat unnerved by the turn of the night and Mr. Gray Eyes, Kate peered questionably at Julie beaming behind the steering wheel, "What do you mean?

That crooked grin of hers lengthened all the more, "Ronan never interferes."

Her brows furrowed, not understanding, "Ronan?"

"That tall piece of fine-looking back there!" she exclaimed blithely.

Her stomach did a strange fluttering.

She obviously meant Mr. Gray-Eyes who radiated hostility.

"His bouncers always do the rough-housing."

"Do you know him personally?" Kate felt compelled to ask.

Julie shook her blonde head, "Nah, I've just seen him at Club Red. He owns it." She paused, flipping her left signal, "He's more of a silent type but not many trifle with him." There eyes met and she added with a seriousness that alarmed Kate, "He has a notorious temper and one mean fist."

The ideal man Kate wanted absolutely nothing to do with.

She sank deeper into the pleather seat, her thoughts inherently envisioning those vivid, gray eyes.

"That red dress must have made an impression for one Ronan Morrissey to interfere in a sleaze ball move by some half-witted drunk." Julie teased lightly.

Kate groaned inwardly, curing the red dress and vowing secretly never to wear it again. She had wanted to revolt everything Danny had disapproved, such as wearing a clingy, enticing red piece of cloth which only lured drunken buffoons.

Little good that did.

She just wasn't club material, especially if the likes of Mr. Gray Eyes frequented them often.

She excelled a breath, grateful that the night was coming to an end as they pulled into her driveway.

"I truly am sorry." Julie said a bit unlike her usual cheerfulness, "I don't know what I was thinking."

Unbuckling her seatbelt, Kate said in a means to appease her, "You didn't know. I suppose I'm not cut out for the night life." She said this with a little smile that succeeded in pulling one from Julie.

"I'll make it up to you."

Kate shook her head, "That's not necessary."

Julie dismissed her with a wave of her hand, "No really, come by the diner around eight o'clock tomorrow, dinner on me, k?"

Kate smirked, nodding while slipping out of the jeep. She waved to Julie over her shoulder and headed inside, eager to escape the insufferable confines of her red dress, concluding it would look decisively great at the back of her closet.

Jax finished his rounds collecting the remaining slumped bodies dispersed sloppily along his bar, observing with a wry grin as the robust bouncer effortlessly tossed each patron out on their ass.

Favoring a shot of Jack with the vagueness of Hanni El Khatib sounding from a heavily built surround sound, Ronan unwound his legs, lounging languidly into the leather seat of which he overpowered, Jax approaching with a knowing grin as he fell into the opposite seat of him.

Ronan slammed back the Jack, purposely avoiding the bouncer's perceptive stare. His mood darkening, he poured another healthy shot of whiskey, its distilled warmth assuaging his inner beast.

"Have you taken an interest in brunettes, Morrissey?" the bouncer teased with a trace of considerable humor.

A scowl darkened Ronan's brow, one that indicated his lack of interest in discussing the topic.

Jax arched a brow, further encouraged by his silence, "Care to elaborate?"

"No." Ronan grumbled irritably, downing his second Jack.

Jax grinned all the more, "She came with Julie, the waitress over in BlackMountain."

Ronan feigned disinterest despite the inability to quell a vision of cat-like eyes and a little red dress.

Instead of a third shot of Jack, he opted for the bottle and took a swig, hoping to extract the image of the woman weighing his thoughts.

She was seemingly ordinary compared to the usual dames that frequented his club. She had appeared uncomfortable and awkward; something that rarely regulated Club Red.

Yet, he found great difficulty in suppressing the vision of dark hair resembling rich chocolate. Pale, green eyes framed in thick feathery lashes, a pert, dainty nose and an enticing mouth that all of which absorbed his attention. He recalled the beautiful, symmetrical lines of her face and the manner in which they drew together in loveliness.

He had a deep assertion that the woman was distinctly unaware of her beauty and the arousing affect she had on men.

His expression blackened recalling how she had affected him.

The drunk had irritated him and the second he laid a hand to her, it propelled him forward in a mindless rage.

The thought disturbed him.

His unexplained pang of rage was inexcusable.

She was merely a woman-and human at that.

Kate awoke early the next morning just before the break of dawn. Stepping up to the one of the windows in her bedroom she regarded the horizon appreciatively. She always enjoyed the splash of colors that illuminated the picturesque morning.

Bracing her weight against the windowpane her thoughts drifted to a place entirely adverse to the beautiful sunrise.

It was a dark place full of hostility and violence that which time could not erase.

Her throat constricted and her eyes shadowed with reminiscent pain.

Danny would find her. It was only a matter of time.

You're mine, Kate. He never failed to remind her. I will find you no matter where you go.

She jolted from her thoughts, the image of Danny inducing that abiding fear that never lessened.

You're free now, Kate. Her subconscious asserted.

The notion was somewhat comforting. She was free, free to do as she pleased, free of Danny's tyrannical fist.

It was a welcoming thought, one that prompted her away from the window in search of coffee.

She learned two things of her Aunt Mae that morning. They shared a common interest in books and Lipton tea. She failed to find any coffee but the Lipton was a delightful alternative.

As she prepared her tea, her eyes leisurely observed the kitchen. It was small compared to most of the rooms of the house, embellished with some pottery and a vase. She made a mental note to gather flowers for the latter.

She felt the coolness of the blue and white ceramic tiles beneath her feet, her toes curling instinctively. She spotted a window box full of herbs and an empty wicker basket meant for fruit and vegetables.

Sleek, blue marbled countertops complimented white distressed cabinets. A small table sat before a window, giving the inhabitant a perfect view of the forestry outside.

It was the perfect little kitchen.

Gathering her fresh cup of hot Lipton, she made her way outside to the wraparound porch, relishing in the cool, morning air.

Slipping into a chair, she curled her feet beneath her and sipped at her tea.

Her eyes surveyed the forest that encased her Victorian home, streams of morning light spewing from the canopied trees as songbirds carried tunes from tangled limbs.

She smiled over the brim of her cup, quite liking the subtle warble.

She then spotted an undergrowth of what appeared to be a narrowing trail and decided tomorrow she'd go for a run.

Ribs permitting.

She situated in her seat and winced against the slight discomfort that came with it. Her ribs were nearly healed so a run seemed likely.

Later that evening, after an eventful day of cleaning in between rummaging old closets and bureaus, she headed into town.

She'd donned a green sweater of sage which hung loosely on her shoulders and a pair of new jeans, courtesy of Sarah at the little boutique on the corner.

She had a fondness of sweaters. She thought with a smile. They were comfy and paired seemingly well with blue jeans, complimenting one and the other.

As she made her way to Cook's Diner, strolling casually along the sidewalk, she caught intangible BlackMountain chatter.

Peering around, she noticed a café with a handful of latte lovers occupying the outside tables, listening intently to a street musician as he played on his violin. She spotted several boutiques similar to that of Sarah's, a little Italian restaurant and a pet store where puppies lapped at its display window.

BlackMountain was becoming increasingly agreeable to her.

She spied Cook's Diner and crossed the street. As she entered, that little bell chimed, instinctively luring stares.

She smiled sheepishly and averted her eyes elsewhere, in hopes that others would do the same.

"Kate!" Julie called cheerily from behind the counter.

She smiled and did a little wave of her hand, "Hey."

"Sit, sit!" Julie motioned to an empty seat at the counter noticeably absent of two fedoras, her manager Larry winking charmingly at her as she slipped into a seat.

She blushed.

Julie sauntered to her, tossing a washcloth to the countertop as she leaned forward to brace her elbows atop the newly cleaned surface, "What can I get cha?"

Kate smiled at Julie's buoyancy, "Just a coffee."

Julie scowled, her cerulean eyes narrowing disapprovingly, "Just a coffee?" she straightened from the counter, shaking her head, "No, no. That just won't do. I have every intention of feeding you until you're glutinous."

Kate laughed, "That doesn't sound very pleasant."

Julie beamed, "How about a burger and fries?"

Her stomach grumbled nosily, further darkening the blush that colored her face.

Julie chuckled, "Enough said." She spun about and shouted the order to a hefty man in the back whose eyes glinted jovially at Kate.

"Still want a coffee?" Julie asked over her shoulder.

She nodded, "Please."

That little bell chimed from the front door, announcing more hungry customers and naturally, her eyes drew to where several men entered the diner. She froze as one in particular stood out distinctly.

It was the drunken man from last night who appeared worse for the wear, obviously nursing a bad hangover.

Their eyes connected and she drew up in her seat, her heart accelerating as he recognized her.

What would he do? She thought fearfully.

The man's face, which was already, noticeably white from the nausea that plagued him, seemed to whiten all the more at the sight of her.

His shoulders did a obvious hunching as he all bought shrank away from her, his eyes immediately finding something other than her to latch onto.

She focused on the coffee Julie handed her; still somewhat unnerved by the man's presence but realizing quite relaxingly that he had no intention of causing her grief.

Was it because of Mr. Gray Eyes?

**********