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Thank the lord for credit cards!

Astrid winced as she swiped to pay her cab driver. Either the guy had taken the concierge team at their word when they’d said money was no object, or cabs were genuinely expensive in this part of the world.

‘You sure this is the right place?’ he said to her, leaning over the steering wheel to eye the fizzing neon sign over the rundown joint. Crow Bar. How lovely.

Astrid checked the address Sissi had sent.

‘Yup, this is the one. Thanks.’

‘Want me to wait for you?’

At those prices ?!

Then again, how would she get back? The town was in the middle of nowhere. Chances of her getting another ride back to civilisation that night were zero. Though worst-case scenario she could crash at Sissi’s and get a ride in the morning.

‘I’m good, thanks.’

She stepped out into the freezing night air and the cab pulled away, its tyres crunching over the gravel as the thrum of rock music reverberated through the windowless walls before her. Her kind of tunes. That was something at least…

She looked this way and that; it really was one street, the residential homes blending with the local amenities – a small playground, a tiny school, a grocery store, and a gas station.

Before her, the one bar, with its rough no-nonsense exterior, and behind her, Sissi’s diner.

A typical American joint with its candy colours, chrome exterior and great big windows.

What a contrast. Heaven and hell facing off against one another and she stepped towards her fellow avenging angel on instinct.

To see Sissi, to sneak a confidence-boosting hug…

But the diner looked busy which meant her friend was busy and she’d already done enough phoning Astrid in. She didn’t need to be involved in this as well as everything else.

She jumped as the door to the bar slammed open.

‘Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to spook ya!’ A grey-haired rocker rolled out, his smile friendly enough, the biker badge on his back as he swung his leg over his Harley, less so. Was he seriously going to ride that in this weather? With those fumes coming off him?

‘You lost?’

She shook her head and he gave a laugh, revving his engine and making her startle.

‘If I was you, I’d carry on walking; they’ll eat you alive in there.’

Great. Just what her jiggly nerves needed to hear.

‘I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.’

He held her gaze as he backed his bike out, curiosity rather than concern creasing up his brow and then he was off, his words hanging heavy in the petrol infused air.

Don’t listen to him, Sinclair.

This was small town Massachusetts. What was the worst that could happen?

You’re the one about to confront the man who terrorised his family for almost two decades…

But she had witnesses, plenty of witnesses judging by the noise, and since when had she been too afraid to get the story? Never.

Tightening her cashmere coat, she reached for the door and?—

‘Astrid!’

Sissi…?

She spun on her heel to find her friend running down the steps of the diner, tugging a jacket over her pink checkered uniform. ‘Wait up!’

‘Honey, what are you doing?’ she hollered over a passing truck. ‘You’re supposed to be working!’

‘This is more important,’ she said, racing across the road, straight into Astrid’s arms and they hugged each other tight.

‘It’s so good to see you, Sissi.’

‘And you, but if you think I’m letting you go in there without me, you’ve got another thing coming. They’ll take one look at you in this utterly fabulous coat and eat you alive.’

‘But Sissi?—’

‘No buts, you’ll need me to translate your fancy accent.’

‘My fancy?—’

‘Just kidding, come on.’ She looped her arm through Astrid’s and tugged her inside.

The second the door swung closed, every head turned their way. From the men at the bar, to those mid-game at the pool table, to those sitting in the booths against the walls. Shit.

Her nose wrinkled. What was that smell? Beer, sweat and something indescribable. Age-old tobacco? And not the kind you’d stick in your reed diffuser.

She blinked, her eyes adjusting from the dark outside to the neon tinge within as she plastered on a smile. ‘Bloody hell, Sissi,’ she said under her breath, ‘this place is?—’

‘A whole ’nother level, I know.’

The place wasn’t small but the sticker-clad walls and low lighting made it feel tiny. Not to mention the narrowed gazes making her want to shrink into the floor.

Sienna strode towards the bar where three lone individuals sat, seasoned regulars judging by the way they seemed to blend into the wood.

‘Hey Boots!’ Sienna called out, seemingly to no one, and a guy appeared from the back. Grey hair, fuzzy beard, twinkling eyes.

‘Sienna, doll, to what do we owe this pleasure?’

She gave him an easy smile that took the edge off Astrid’s nerves, particularly as one of the seasoned regulars was currently giving her a snarl… or was that supposed to be a smile?

‘I was looking for?—’

‘Well well well, look what the cat dragged in…’

A man rose up from a darkened booth, his black hair slicked back, its sheen making it hard to tell if it was grey at the temples or blue from the glowing Coors sign overhead. He was tall, broad, with a jaw as chiselled as his boys, and cheekbones just as high. Of course he would be handsome.

Take James Bond, stick him in biker gear and age him by thirty years and this man was him. Though most of that ageing came from the bottom of a beer bottle, she’d warrant.

‘Take a wrong turn, Miss Prim?’

‘Save the sarcasm for someone who cares, Rick,’ Sissi threw back. ‘My friend here wants to talk to you.’

He came a step closer, his glassy blue eyes narrowing into suspicious slits as he turned them on Astrid and gave her a thorough once-over that made her shiver.

‘Well, why didn’t you say so?’ His dark brows twitched up and he ran his tongue over his lips. ‘Walk this way, baby doll. I’ve always got time to talk to a pretty face.’

Oh, fuck. She felt the tension in Sissi ripple through her arm. They stepped forward as one and he rocked his beer bottle at them. ‘Ah-ah, not you, Miss Prim, you can sort a round of drinks.’

‘Carter, I don’t want no trouble,’ Boots said, his voice low in warning.

‘Trouble?’ Rick gave him a grin, his hands raised. ‘Who said anything about trouble? Sounds like we’re going to have a nice chat and a drink, right, baby doll? Gotta say, I’m curious to hear what about though.’

Astrid gave Sissi a nod. She had this. In fact, the more unsavoury he was, the better she felt. Because finding a broken man and making him relive the horror he’d inflicted would’ve have sucked. This guy however…

‘What can I get you?’ Sissi asked her.

‘I’ll have a Johnnie Walker neat.’ More to warm herself up than to balance the nerves.

‘A real drink.’ He arched a brow. ‘I like this one. I’ll have the same, now hurry along little miss…’

Sissi fired her a subtle eye roll and walked off.

‘Mick, Tommy, shift it!’ Rick blurted with a flick of the wrist. ‘I’ve got company.’

Two guys eased out of the booth and slunk off to the juke box in the corner as Astrid shrugged off her coat and took their place, careful to use up the whole bench so Rick would have to sit opposite her.

‘So, what can a stunner like you need from me?’ He pressed his bottle into the table as he leaned back in his seat, eyes glittering. ‘Because I have ideas, sweetheart…’

‘I’m a journalist.’

He drew his mouth back to one side. ‘That figures.’ He gave her another one of those invasive once-overs that left her skin crawling. ‘And how can I help?’

She entwined her fingers on the tabletop, leaned forward just enough to show no fear.

‘I’m working on an article about the Titan Twins.’

He barely batted an eyelid, it was his jaw that gave him away, pulsing with the clench of his teeth. He raised his beer to his lips, took a swig.

‘Of course you are.’

Sissi arrived with the drinks, her cautious gaze sweeping between them as she placed them down.

‘Thanks, love.’

‘Yeah, thanks love,’ he mimicked, a lewd look in his eyes as they flicked up to Sissi and back to her again.

‘And what exactly do you want from me?’

She swallowed the distaste in her mouth, waited for Sissi to take a seat far enough away that her friend wouldn’t have to endure any more of his ‘charm’ then threw her drink back in one. Her eyes fixed in his as she slammed her glass down and stated very clearly, ‘No bullshit that’s for sure.’

‘Then you’ve come to the right place.’ Respect glinted in his gaze as he raised his whisky in salute and downed it with a satisfied hiss. ‘Ah, that is good.’

‘You’re a whisky man?’

‘I’m an any-kind-of-drink man, but I guess you’ve probably heard that already.’

She tilted her head. ‘I have.’

‘What else have you heard?’

‘I’m not interested in repeating back hearsay, Mr Carter, I want to hear your side of things. I want to hear what it was like bringing kids up in Ashbury Falls. I want to hear about your family life, before you all parted ways. I want to hear how it affected you.’

He gave a derisive laugh. ‘Oh, you’re good. Very good. You really wanna hear my side?’

Something in his eyes set her teeth on edge.

‘That’s what I said,’ she forced out, trying to ignore the wriggle in her gut that said maybe, just maybe, he was a source too far for her article.

He leaned into the table, his hands too close for comfort as he planted them in fists before hers. ‘Pull the other one, sugar; you want to condemn me like the rest of them and I’m gonna be honest with you, I couldn’t give a fuck.’

She winced.

‘Not what you were expecting? You think you’re the first person to hunt me down and ask me shit?’

‘I want to hear about your life, your family, you . Your story, no judgement.’

‘There’s one problem with that, sweetheart.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘I remember jack shit from those days.’

‘Because you choose not to remember or?—’