What have I done? Is Shadow calling my dad right now? Why is that the first thing that keeps coming to mind? This isn’t about my dad. Not at heart. It’s about what I owe this man. I was right. I sensed he was hurt, and I was correct, but what have I done to him coming here like this?
I’m doing my frantic panic breathing when the door opens so swiftly that it bangs against the side of the house with nothing to catch it. Shadow steps out, a black duffel bag looped over his shoulder. He’s no longer wearing his leather vest. He has a plainblack hoodie on. An old ballcap hides his face, and he’s left the leather gloves and biker boots on.
He walks right past the bike.
Strides past me as if I’m not standing here. He doesn’t turn his head or spare a look for me or anything. I might as well not exist.
He storms down the driveway, making quick work of it with his long legs, veers right at the end of it, and starts down the sidewalk.
I have no idea what’s happening, but saying that I don’t have a good feeling about this is the understatement of understatements since the word understatement was invented.
I swallow thickly, trying to push the gut wrenching anxiety back down. My pulse still beats so wildly at my throat that it practically smothers me.
I only hesitate long enough to tell myself that this isn’t a situation that I can fix. I should accept that and go home, call my dad, confess what I’ve done, and—
What?
Call it a day? A night? A life?
I can’t fix this, but I can’t do that either.
By the time I get to the end of the driveway, Shadow is halfway down the block. I run after him, fully expecting him to break into a run and keep running until he loses me.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t. I fall in beside him, panting from the short run. It’s not that I’m out of shape, but I was havingtrouble catching my breath since I saw him come out of the house. And for the past week before that.
“What are you doing?” I gasp out.
I’m sure he’s not going to answer me. He’ll keep his face turned to the front and pretend I’m not here, or he’ll look right through me like he did earlier.
Maybe he thinks that answering me will make me go away faster. Whatever his thoughts, he answers me with one word spat through clenched teeth. “Leaving.”
“What?” I gasp, and not solely because I’m out of breath. “Like for good? Why?”
“Because I liked my life the way it was,” he snaps. “About as uncomplicated as it got. I told your dad this would happen.”
“What would happen? That I’d try and meet you?” My eyes shoot straight to the duffel. I have no right to anger. It’s mostly shock that heats my blood up. “You’re bugging out like it’s the end of the world or the zombie apocalypse because ofme?”
“I’d be right at home with the zombies,” he sneers.
I walk alongside him. It’s not easy, given that the pace he sets is one I basically have to run to keep up with. There’s no turning around and heading home now. I didn’t fully comprehend just how bad ‘can’t be fixed’was.
I don’t know what to say, except that I remember Dad telling me that Shadow isn’t like other people. If he wants to spar, I’m up for it. I change my tactic, instead of sweet and sappy, I add a little salt. Or a lot. “You do know that this is building walls instead of bridges.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if you don’t like me,” he says tonelessly, increasing his pace.
“That’s random, but okay. Is it because you don’t like you either? Has that been going on since the fire or before?”
He stops dead so fast that I overshoot him and have to turn around. At least I get to see his face. It’s mostly shadowed from the hat protecting his features from the streetlights, but his eyes flash angrily. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly obnoxious in a perky way, which makes it at least ten times worse?”
“Hey, you chose to bug out on foot. You could have just driven away. I couldn’t have caught up to you then.”
“The bike is a club thing. The vest too.”
That winds me, but I have to put on a brave face and pretend that it doesn’t. This is real. He’s trulyleaving. He liked his life here. He said so. He can’t give it all up because I showed up at his house.
“Didn’t you take club vows?”
“Tyrant will let me out of it. He’s not into spilling blood if he doesn’t have to. The club isn’t prison. It’s a brotherhood. You can ask for space from your family when you need it.”
