“Think we spooked her?”
“Maybe,” I allowed. “I mean, something sure did. Could’ve been us, or her, or a guilty conscience…”
I really didn’t want to think that was it. We’d grilled Sawyer of course, to see what he’d said to her in the mini-mart. But he’d claimed their entire conversation was limited to, of all things, beef jerky.
In any case, we’d driven straight back to New York, after a quick stop to lock up the cabin. Once there, Hayden wouldn’t even go in. We shut down the hot tub, turned off the lights, and sped home in record time. All with her slumbering away across Sawyer’s lap, deep in the back seat.
We woke her up outside her apartment, even though we were loathe to let her out. It wasn’t safe. We offered to pick up a few things and let her stay with us for a day or two, until the whole thing with her asshole boyfriend had been settled. Hayden politely refused. She thanked us and headed inside, assuring us that everything would be alright.
After staying ten minutes, we were forced to reluctantly pull away. We were worried that maybe we’d freaked her out. Overstepped our bounds. Something was seriously strange, though. Her laughter, her flirtatiousness, her attitude; everything had done such a one-eighty in the few paltry minutes it had taken Carter and I to pump a tank of gas. One minute shewas running inside for snacks, looking happily forward to our last night at the cabin, and the next she was demanding to be taken straight home.
That’s when I reminded myself: I never was any good at understanding women.
“Think we should callher?” Carter ventured. “I mean, we can’t just let her go. Not like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m talking about the Blond Berserker!” cried Carter. “That asshole’s been riding around, harassing her friends, and out looking for her all weekend. Now that she’s finally home, what do you think he’s going to do when he finds her?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “And I don’t like it any more than you. But Hayden’s a big girl. She’s tough. For some reason, I think she can handle it.”
Carter scoffed, and pointed at the door. “A monster likethat?” he argued. “You think she should be left to handle a guy that big, that psychotic, that out of his fucking mind totally crazy—”
And just then, in a cosmic moment of cataclysmically bad timing, the door opened…
… and the Blond Berserker walked straight into the bar.
~ 19 ~
CARTER
It didn’t seem real; pointing at the door and having him walk straight through it. At exactly the moment I was talking about him, too.
Cole ‘the Hammer’ Kane made the bar in three long strides. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse, but insistent.
“WHERE IS SHE?”
I continued sorting the mail, as casually as I could. All while keeping an eye on him.
“Where’s who?”
His face twisted angrily, as he pounded a ham-sized fist onto bar. Glasses rattled. Coasters jumped.
Grizz however, remained perfectly still and unfazed.
“You know damn well who!” Cole shouted. “I’m looking for my girlfriend! I’m looking for Hayden!”
He reached down, grabbed the closest stool, and flung it backwards. I watched it sail across the room as if it were made of Styrofoam, hit the wall, and come to rest right beside the front door.
Casually I picked up my phone and started punching buttons.
“What are you doing?” Cole growled.
“Calling the police,” I replied calmly. “Having you trespassed.”
“Trespassed!?”
“Sure. You just vandalized my bar.”
