I pull up outside the Youngblood house to drop Solana off. Big Ed’s in the driveway, half under his Harley with tools scattered around him. He looks up as she hops out of my truck, oilstreaking his hands, and juts his chin at me in that universal biker greeting that also asks “what’s going on here?”
“Thanks for the ride,” Solana says quietly.
Big Eddie wipes his hands on a rag and wanders over to my truck, eyes narrowed with curiosity. “Why’s my niece riding with you?”
Solana pauses, glancing between us.
I keep my tone casual. “I left the party early to swing by Rachel’s. Then I saw her walking and figured I’d give her a ride home.”
“That so?” Eddie asks. He’s studying me, but not with suspicion. More like mild interest. “Heard she’s babysitting your boy now.”
“That’s right.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “About time she got outta the house. Girl’s been moping around for weeks, holed up in her room. Starting to worry she’d turn into a hermit.”
I catch Solana’s deflating sigh, her shoulders dropping as she turns and starts toward the house.
Her uncle has no idea what she’s been through. He hasn’t the faintest clue why she’s been “moping.”
The obliviousness would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.
“Yeah,” I say more as filler. It’s all I can say considering I can’t exactly tell him his niece was assaulted. That she’s barely holding herself together.
“Anyway, good looking out,” Eddie says, already turning back to his bike. “Better you give her a ride than walking.”
“No problem.”
“You heading back to the party?”
“Nah. Going home.”
“Tom’s probably still giving speeches,” Eddie says with a knowing smirk. “Man loves the sound of his own voice. Glad I left when I did.”
“That he does.”
I’m ready to leave. Ready to get out of this conversation before I say something I shouldn’t.
“Good to have him back though,” Eddie says. “Should be interesting seeing where things go from here.”
“Yeah, should be. See you around, Ed.”
“Later, Prez.”
I drive off, watching Eddie go back to his bike in my rearview mirror. Solana’s already disappeared inside, probably to her room where she’ll sit alone with whatever that phone call told her.
I make it maybe three blocks when my phone suddenly pings with a new text message.
I wait ’til the next red light to check it.
thank you for this afternoon. for everything.
I stare at the words longer than I should. My thumb hovers over the keyboard, a dozen responses forming and disappearing.
You’re welcome.
Anytime you need me.
Are you okay?
