“It’s fine, but are you sure she’s okay? She doesn’t seem to be coping well.”
“She’s always been that way. Has been since Dad left.
“Left? I thought he died.”
“He did, but it was after he left her. She never got over the rejection,” he explains sadly.
“Maybe, you leaving her to come back to Long Beach has triggered her. Is there anyone who lives nearby who can check in on her?”
“Don’t worry about Mom, she’ll be fine,” he assures me, reaching over to place his hand on my leg again. “We should be celebrating right now.”
“Greaser, I want to talk about u?—”
“Oh, shit!” He looks worried, slamming on the brakes and quickly pulling over.
“What is it?” I ask him when he starts getting out the car,
“Something sounds wrong with the engine.” He throws the door shut, lifting up the hood while I sit and try to figure out how I’m gonna take back everything that happened between us last night, without upsetting him.
“Yep, as I suspected. We’re going nowhere.” He shrugs, opening my door and offering my hand.
“What do you mean, what's happened?”
“It ain’t nothin’ I can’t fix, but I can’t do shit in the dark. Come on, there's a motel a couple of hundred yards up ahead.” He starts to tug me out the car, but I stay put.
“We don’t need a motel, I’ll call Vike to pick us up.” I pull out my cell phone, and when I see that it’s dead, I rest my head back against the seat.
“Come on, we can’t have you sitting on the side of the road in a broken-down car; it would take someone two hours to get to us. It’s late, and you need your sleep.” I give up and allow him to help me out of the car.
“There’s a girl.” He kisses me, keeping hold of my hand and walking us both in the direction of the motel.
“Why thefuckain’t she answerin’ her phone?” I slam my cell down on the table when I get diverted to her voicemail for the twelfth fuckin’ time. “I shouldn’t have let her fuckin’ go. He could have taken her anywhere.”
“Let her go?” Freya raises her eyebrows at me. “In case you’ve forgotten, Alicia is a grown woman.”
“I didn’t mean it like that... I’m supposed to be lookin’ out for her.” I can’t keep fuckin’ still; worrying about her and not trusting Greaser has me pacing the clubhouse floor, full of anxiety and anger.
“Relax, I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe they stayed over at Iris’s place.” Freya tries to talk me down, but it ain’t gonna work. If Alicia wasn’t gonna come home tonight, she would have called.
“I’m heading out to Bakersfield. I need to know she’s okay.” I pick up the keys for my bike and start heading out the door.
“Vike, listen, I know Greaser can be an asshole, but he’s not gonna hurt Alicia; she’s having his brother's baby for Christ’s sake...and unlike some people around here, the guy’s made it obvious how much he likes her.” Ruck chases after me.
“Now ain’t the time for gettin’ ya digs in, Ruck,” I warn. My emotions are getting outta control; I have this sick feeling in my stomach that's telling me something’s wrong.
“Wherever she is, if she’s with Greaser, she’s safe.” He does his best to assure me, but I know differently. I sense the same thing Dev does: there's something not right in Greaser’s sudden change of personality.
“Freya, you went there with her. Can you remember the address?” I ignore him and look back at his old lady, hoping she’s prepared to help. “I’m not gonna make any trouble, I just need to know she’s okay,” I promise, trying to calm my voice.
“I don’t know the address...” She lets out a long, exasperated breath... “But I do know how to get there. I’ll drive; Ruckus has drunk too much, and you're too wired. Come on, Ruck.” She starts heading toward the door, and Ruckus shoots me a look as he starts to follow.
“I was planning on fuckin’ her so hard tonight that she forgot her own name; now I’m heading tofuckin’Bakersfield.” He growls at me as he passes.
“Hey, if Freya was the one you couldn’t get hold of, I’d do the same for you,” I tell him, taking out my phone again so I can try calling Alicia again.
It’s late when we get to Mrs. Stowman’s house, and I knock on the door while Freya and Ruckus watch me from the car.
It takes her a while, but eventually an older woman answers, wearing a nightdress, and I feel guilty for dragging her outta bed when she glances me up and down through the shutter and starts looking worried.
