Free Rogue's Passion by Laurie London

first thing in the morning when they open, we’ll be there to pick him up.”  
    As she angled the car onto the road, it occurred to him that she’d used the word we .  
     
     

Chapter Six
     
    Reckless Motor Sports was located about an hour outside of the city, surrounded by a huge off-road park with dirt trails and jumps, not far from one of the main roads leading into the mountains. If Olivia were into dirt bikes, loud engines, extreme sports, and didn’t mind a few broken bones now and then, this place would be heaven. Maybe in the daytime the perspective would be different, but illuminated by only a flash of the Mustang’s headlights, some of the jumps looked freaking treacherous.
      At Asher’s direction, she drove the car around the side of a large, nondescript metal building. Several nice motorcycles—Harleys, she thought—were parked near the back entrance next to a tricked-out black muscle car, an old Honda sedan, and a dented Dodge Charger. At the loading dock on the far end, a forklift was unloading a pallet of boxes from a large container truck. She could hear the beep beep beep through the rolled-up windows.  
    They must do a lot of business to have a night crew, she thought, yawning.  
    Given that it was after three in the morning, the events of the day had finally caught up to her. She couldn’t wait to tumble into bed, but that was another hour away still. Asher was going to see if one of the guys here could take her to a nearby motel. It’d be much simpler if she healed him the rest of the way, then he could take her himself. She tried telling him that using her Talent on him earlier had taken much less out of her than normal, but he wouldn’t have it.  
    “This place must do a lot of business to run a twenty-four-hour shop.”  
    Asher nodded. “Yeah, Rand does pretty well.”
    A man came through the unmarked steel door with a bag of trash. He stared at them, an unwelcoming scowl plastered to his face, as he tossed the bag into the green Dumpster. Without an acknowledgement, he turned and re-entered the building.  
    “Is that him?” she asked warily.  
    “Who?”
    “Rand.”  
    Asher shook his head. “No, that’s his cousin James.”
    “Is he the one you think will give me a ride?” She certainly hoped not—she hated grumpy people—but she wanted to know now in order to get into the right frame of mind. If so, she’d listen to music and tune him out completely.
    “Him?” His laugh was harsh and humorless. “I wouldn’t let him near you.”  
    Let him? A little thrill ran unbidden down her spine. As a rule, she didn’t like domineering and controlling men. And yet, although she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, she liked the idea that Asher was looking out for her.  
    “You wouldn’t? Why not?”  
    “Hell, no. He’s a scary sonofabitch.”
    That piqued her interest. It wasn’t that she was necessarily curious about James, but she wanted to know why Asher felt that way about the guy. One’s weaknesses and fears often told you more about a person than their strengths.  
    “The army fucked with his head. I don’t trust him around you.”
    There was that protectiveness again. She exhaled slowly to keep this man from getting a hold on her.  
    “What did they do him?” Had Vince been screwed up like this, too? Could that be why they hadn’t heard from him? No. She quickly shut down that glimmer of home. They hadn’t heard from him because he was most likely dead.  
    Asher pressed his lips into a hard line. “Won’t talk about it and we don’t ask. Just stay clear of him.” He groaned as he reached for the door handle.
    “Here,” she said, climbing out of the car, “let me help you with that.” She jogged around to the passenger side. Half expecting him to decline any aid, she was pleasantly surprised when he let her help him. She could easily push some of her healing energy into him right now, but since he’d refused earlier, she