When he wakes up.
Because he will.
He has to.
And this is all for him.
Isn’t everything?
“Lyd. Did you hear me?”
“Do not call him.”
“Then finding out who shot at him is going to be near impossible.”
“Figure it out without alerting Lynx that you know you saw him.” I end the call.
It doesn’t take me long to catch up to Storm. He was hauling ass, but I’m going faster. Fox’s revelation is stuck in my head, and he said Storm and Lynx knew one another well while Lynx has never fucking told me Storm was around. In fact, he said the opposite; that I’d never run into him. Fox’s evidence was thinbut he was able to make a connection between Storm’s parents and my uncle and business dealings he was certain Storm had been a part of.
Someone is lying. I wonder if it’s Fox, but I know he’d give his life for mine.
And now Lynx Flynn is driving by my fucking house. A dozen times. All while avoiding me.
That’s not normal behavior.
If he has something to do with what happened to my brother, my world will get messy, fast. But I don’t believe he does. I don’t believe in anything but family and the power of the unseen, and really, aren’t they one and the same?
Storm throws on his turn signal.
We’re the only ones on this road.
I can play it safe and keep driving, or I can let him know I’m tailing his ass and turn right now.
Fuck it.
I need answers because the puzzle is growing infinitely more complex as I zoom out. I don’t bother putting on my signal but I turn onto the bumpy, dirt road right after him.
And I know the moment he realizes I’ve been following him.
I hear his engine rev, the turbocharger spooling.
Then he’s fucking gone.
And he cuts his goddamn lights.
What. A. Fool.
I leave mine on, the ruts and dips in the road jostling the car. The Q is low to the ground and it makes navigating inhospitable roads difficult at high speeds. No doubt I could probably beat his ass in a straight off the line race but this isn’t that, and I’m not wrecking my baby.
Fuck him.
I’ll find him no matter what.
I feel Lele in my arms, shaking, sobbing, and I grind my teeth and widen my eyes, staring into the dark as leaves blow by and mud kicks up from the storms this week.
Storm.
What a stupid fucking name.
