I stare at them. “You did that for Milo.” Not that I've started speaking, it feels a whole lot easier to keep going.
“Leave her alone.”
“She’s going through a lot.”
Taylor and Crew are on my side, I think. For once, at least. I flash them a smile and they smile back. It’s a brief exchange but I can see that for one, they are hurting, too. We all miss him. Athena, too. We all deal with grief differently. She’s in organizational mode and when nothing goes her way, life gets hairy.
Hendrick has entered bodyguard mode, his face set, his orders sharp and brief. They clash with every step in a whirl of color that I can’t stand and want to hide from.
A whirl of color that should include Milo.
A sob breaks from my chest and everyone freezes.
“But we need to go. Hendrick says so.” Athena crouches before me, one hand on my knee. I tuck my legs under me and scoot backward. She comes, too. “Come on,” she murmurs in a softer tone, one reserved for sick children or puppies that don't do the right thing. She used it on Milo often when he didn’t do what she wanted. It worked, for him. “Let’s get in the car. It’s a short trip back to the place where Hendrick works. Then we can reset. It’s what he wants.”
I close my eyes. I want to stay here. I want to be with Milo until they move him. I want to understand why everyone isn’t sadder or more frightened.
I want, I want, I want.
But they don’t seem to hear me, or care.
I shrug. It’s not like any of it matters to Milo anymore. Why should I care? “Alright. If it’s what Hendrick wants.”
“It is not what Henrick wants.”
My heart soars as he stops behind me. His voice is loud and clear, pushing the pressure of the world back several steps. Athena stands and retreats. It’s one step but also…it’s one step.
I inhale and manage to keep my breath for longer than two seconds. A record for the past hour, I know.
“I want to go with you.”
My words push out and I’m proud.
“You got it, love.” His hand lands on my shoulder. More rule breaking.
A smile flickers my lips. Milo would have loved it because it’s so inappropriate. My smile grows bigger, for him.
“Bye,”I whisper.
Athena frowns. “We haven’t decided anything, yet,” she objects.
Hendrick gives my shoulder a decent squeeze. “She wasn’t talking to you. Ready to saddle up with me, harp girl?”
I twist and blink up at him.
“But the limo…” Athena splutters.
I find Hendrick’s dirty smile, and I like it. Love it, even. Like I do him.
“I’m ready.”
Being on the back of Hendrick’s Triumph is nothing like I expected to experience in my life. My day to day is about practice and keeping my hands strong, not whipping across the desert on the back of a bike that has chunky tires swearing a man’s leather jacket that bears a stitched logo that saysSIN EATERSand a picture of a death’s heat and wafting smoke behind it.
The look on Hendrick’s face when he put the jacket on me was nothing shy of pure possession. When he asked if the leather felt good, I said yes. His mouth crashed down, his kiss hard and rough and breath stealing. And then we are flying across the desert floor, grit and dust flying around us with the knowledge that the person who shot at me and killed Milo could be anywhere between here and Valor Springs.
Hendrick has been silent otherwise, his hand occasionally drifting to settle over mine where they wrap tight around his waist. Otherwise, he only rides hard, dodging around rock formations that I swear some Texas desert god has placed there just so there’s no such thing as a straight line between hi home and our destination.
Eventually, the building we seek comes up. We're approaching it from the wrong angle, but Hendrick cuts a wide berth, anyway, circling around. Before we get there, metal pings off metal, then again. He swears, peeling away.
