And while taking out the occupants of the Silverado might have been the fastest way to solve the problem, in my head, I saw myself being overwhelmed by four of them and them taking Wren anyway.
So, I did the only thing I could think of. Gave in to Wren’s plan to get the plate, then got the fuck out of Dodge.
“Yeah. I am. But we don’t know how many armed men were in that Silverado.”
I reach for my phone and dial Grudge’s number.
“What’s up?” Grudge says, his voice echoing around my truck speakers.
“I’m in the truck with Wren. Just got trailed out of the store. They ran Eric and John off the road. I managed to leave ‘em behind on the rural road that cuts through toward Mom’s place.”
“Details?”
“A Silverado. Black. Was lingering around the grocery store lot. Maybe followed us in there, but I didn’t see it. Wasn’t sure how many people were in it, so didn’t engage. It hit a snowbank, so might have trouble getting out.”
“Jackal and Shade are in the clubhouse. We’ll take a ride out now to see. You good?”
I feel how clammy Wren’s palm is. “Yeah. We’ll be fine. We’re headed to Mom’s to drop her groceries off. Will need a new escort back to the ranch house, though.”
“I’ll figure it out. Take care of Wren, yeah?”
I glance over at their pale face. I hate how this is the default for their life. “On it.”
The call ends, and I squeeze Wren’s hand before placing my own back on the wheel.
“We’ll be at Mom’s any minute.”
I’ve taken this route a thousand times before, but today, every shadow between the cottonwoods feels like it’s got teeth.
Wren hasn’t taken their hand off the handle of the door since I called Grudge.
The second we pull off the main road, I crawl onto Mom’s gravel drive. Her porch light flips on the second my tires crunch over the gravel near the family room window.
As I kill the engine, I turn to Wren. “It’ll take them a little while to get another protection crew to cover the ride home. Ithink you’re safe enough in the truck while I unload. But if you wanna come in…Mom already wanted to meet you.”
Wren strokes the end of their hair and looks down at their hoodie and cargoes. “I’m hardly dressed for meeting your mom.”
I reach for their hand and kiss the back of it. “Wren, you look good enough to fucking eat. But if you don’t feel up to it, that’s okay too.”
Wren looks at the front door as if it’s gonna bite them. “Fine.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “You said that with all the excitement of someone facing a firing squad.”
“I don’t often poll well with parents.”
“My mom isn’t an ordinary parent.”
Wren smiles finally. “That’s what I’m worried about. That she’s going to read my aura within five seconds of stepping inside and decide we’re a bad match.”
I slip my hand around the back of their neck and tug them to me. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t believe any of that bullshit.”
It’s only a slight lie. Do I believe a lump of rock is gonna change the way my day goes? No. But do I believe that believing in the lump of rock leads to a self-belief that leads to a good outcome anyway? Sure, I do.
Mom has already got the door cracked by the time we’ve grabbed the groceries and hit the ramp. There’s a grin on her face a mile wide when I gesture with a handful of shopping bags for Wren to step past me with theirs.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Mom says when I dip to kiss her cheek on the way to the kitchen.
“Hey, Mom.”
