Pitch Black (Romantic Thriller, Completed)

Chapter 11

On Monday morning, I got up an hour early to do my chores and get Samara ready to travel to the vet. Luke had promised to arrange transport for eleven, which I assumed meant a driver for Portia's outrageously expensive horsebox. A horsebox that spent its time parked up behind the barn because, according to Susie, Portia had only used it twice in the last year.

At five past eleven, there was still no sign of a driver. I checked my watch again then compared it to the clock in the tack room. Yes, it was spot on.

"Have you got Luke's number?" I asked Hayley.

"I wish."

Should I call the vet? Hotwire the horsebox and drive it myself? No, Ash, forget that option. At ten past eleven, just when I was wondering what Bradley would do in a situation like this, Luke's Porsche swung into the car park. He jumped out and jogged over.

"Ready to go?"

"As I have been for the last half hour. But the driver hasn't turned up."

"Yes, he has. I'm driving."

"You?" Not what I'd been expecting. "You've got an HGV licence?"

"Surprised?"

"You don't strike me as a lorry driver type of guy."

"Don't judge a book by its cover. Or a man by his Porsche."

How many times had I heard that sentiment? An ex once told me I looked like a prom queen and fought like a Velociraptor.

"Fair enough. Dare I ask why you learned to drive a truck? I'm betting it wasn't so you could spend your weekends taking your sister to horse shows."

Luke snorted. "You guessed right. No, I used to go motor racing with a group of friends, and I got the licence to drive the car transporter."

"What kind of racing?" I'd always loved cars, ever since I learned to steal them as a teenager. When I could afford to buy them legitimately, I'd started up a collection. Driving was yet another thing I'd missed since I'd been away.

"We started off with Caterhams then ran a Porsche in the British GT championship. A friend and I shared that drive."

"How long were the races?"

"Anything from one to three hours. I loved that car. There's nothing like driving around Brands Hatch, flat out at the head of the pack."

Hmm... Driving a stolen Camaro with six cop cars chasing you could be pretty exhilarating.

"Did you win?"

"Once or twice. I wasn't too bad."

"You said you used to race. Why did you stop?"

"When my father died, I had to run his company and start living in the real world."

I recognised the flat tone in Luke's voice and the blank look on his face. I used both when I wanted to hide my own feelings.

"I'm sorry," I said, and I meant it. "It must have been hard to give up something you loved."

Luke didn't answer, just walked off to the horsebox. Rather than standing there like an idiot, I went to fetch Samara from her stable. After a brief pause at the foot of the ramp, she followed me into the back of the lorry, and we set off.

"Do we have far to go?" I asked.

"About ten minutes."

Neither of us spoke on the journey, but the silence was strangely comfortable.