“No way. He’s my ticket out of here. Don’t follow me or he gets it.”
And then he’s gone out into the night. “We can’t let him hurt Bark,” I say, standing clear of Stone. He cradles my face in his hands. His eyes are red and swollen. I read so much in his face. Concern, ownership, affection, and maybe more.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks.
“I’m okay. But Bark…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get him.”
He jogs down the hallway to the front door, stepping on the glass and cutting his feet. “Sonofabitch!” he yells but doesn’t stop. I watch him hobble painfully outside, and I follow, attempting to avoid the shards of glass.
Outside, the storm is worse, and the rain soaks through my sweatpants and sweater within a matter of seconds. “Where are you going?” I call after Stone.
“Go back in,” Stone yells over the storm. “I’m going after him.”
He opens Ruby’s tiny garage. I follow him. Inside, he hops into her golf cart. It’s about a million years old, one of the first models of electric golf carts ever made, I assume. It’ll never survive the storm. “She’s going to kill me,” I say, hopping into the passenger seat.
“No, you stay. This is too dangerous,” he orders, starting the cart.
I shake my head. “No way. Where you go, I go. And Bark is my responsibility.”
“He’s got a gun, Norma!” he shouts at me. “A gun!”
“He’s got a gun, Stone! A gun!” I throw back at him.
“What’s happening here? Are you doing a feminist thing?”
“Am I doing a feminist thing? What the hell does that mean? I’m just pointing out that you’re not impervious to bullets, either.”
“Neither are you!” he shouts, wagging his finger under my nose. “Just listen to me and stay here.”
I cross my arms in front of me and stare straight ahead. “You’re going to lose him if you don’t get going.”
He punches the steering wheel. “I might not be able to protect you.”
“I might not be able to protect you,” I say, throwing it back at him in my best Gloria Steinem impression. Secretly, I’m thrilled that Stone wants to protect me, even though his attitude worms its way into my system even more, and I might not ever be able to get over him.
“I’m chasing after an armed, escaped bank robber because he’s holding a dog hostage,” Stone complains, as he backs out of the garage. “How the hell did this happen?”
“Don’t forget to add that you’re mostly naked, the back of your head is completely bald, you have a huge shiner, and your feet are bleeding.”
“You told me that my hair looked fine.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll be dead long before anybody sees it.”
CHAPTER 7
It takes five minutes before we catch sight of Tucker driving Stone’s cart. Summer Island’s roads weren’t made for rain, and there’s flooding everywhere. Our lights barely illuminate a few feet in front of us. Ruby’s ancient cart is having a terrible time staying on the road, but the chainsaw killer is having a harder time.
“What’s he doing?” Stone asks, wiping the rain off his face, as he peers into the darkness.
“Oh my God. It’s Bark. He’s fighting him.”
“Go, Bark, go.”
We get closer, and with him fighting off Bark, the escaped bank robber doesn’t realize that we’re right behind him. “What are we going to do once we catch up to him?” I ask.
“I’m going to be a hero.”
