Blackfoot’s song “Highway” blasts through my earbuds as I race home. There’s a fire in my belly to get there fast. First, I want to see how my man is doing. I figure I should probably help him shower and change the sheets so he can sleep comfortably.
As I think about him, his name appears on my phone, but seeing I’m less than ten seconds away, I skip answering it and just accelerate to get home faster.
There’s some leftover soup, but that isn’t going to be enough for either of us. We need something filling. I’ll grill some chicken or something.
Maybe I can convince Isla to join us.
The feel of her lips on mine has been on my mind all day. But I’m also worried about the conditions she’s living in, and I want to see if there are any jobs I can do to help her move things along. It’s bothering me, she was asking about someone to do her roof. Like, if she has a leak, maybe I can patch it until she finds someone to come fix it for her.
Depending on her mood, I might tell her that I called Jinx to get a quote from him to do it for her.
I turn the corner onto our road. It’s pitch dark, one of the things I loved about this street when we first came to see the house. Beyond the tall pines that line the rear of the property, I can see ink-blue sky and stars.
“What the fuck?—”
There, in the solid beam of my headlight, I catch Garrett stumbling across the street in an unbuttoned shirt, sweats, and his thick biker boots, his gun raised. He looks like the walking dead, a fucking zombie lurching from side to side.
He must hear the bike, it would be impossible to miss, but he doesn’t so much as glance my way. I speed up until I’m close to him. In five seconds, I’ve parked my bike. In another two, I’ve thrown my helmet to the ground and have my weapon raised.
“What are we doing, Bear?” I ask, jogging to catch up to him.
“There’s someone…the fence…tree line.”
He sways, knees buckling. And I reach for him.
“No,” he grunts as he crumples to the ground. “They were watching Isla.”
I grab my flashlight from my pocket and line it up with the barrel of my gun. As much as I want to drop to my knees and help Garrett stand, it’s more important I cover him.
And then, I see who Garrett was watching. A figure, hunched in the darkness, trying to blend against the tree line as he hurries.
He’s moving too fast for it to be Kevin, given the beating I delivered.
I fire a warning shot. Don’t want to kill some unarmed dickhead of a kid who thinks it’s funny to cause shit at night. But I’m also aware that Kevin didn’t run Garrett off the road.
Maybe the two things aren’t even linked, at all.
I sprint toward them, more to prove my point that I’m not fucking around. I don’t want to get too far away from Garrett, given he’s on his knees.
They have way too much distance advantage, and it’s much too dark to pick out any details, like hair color. But the build isn’t Kevin’s either.
“Kai?” I hear my name from Isla’s lips, but, like Garrett, I don’t take my eyes off the tree line. “Oh my God, Garrett.”
I hear the thud of her feet on her porch steps and am glad when they run away from me toward him.
When I’m certain the person has disappeared into the trees, I turn to see Isla stumble to the ground next to Garrett. She’s barefoot, wearing thin pajama pants with a white tank. He’s partly shirtless and in agony. There isn’t enough room in my chest for the anger I feel toward whoever that fucker was.
“Oh my God, Garrett. Why do you have your gun? What just happened?”
Garrett looks up at me, still on his knees, nursing his sprained wrist and tender ribs. “She…needs shoes. Carry her back.”
“I don’t want to leave you vulnerable,” I admit.
“I can walk,” Isla says.
“Kai, please.” But it’s the look on his face, the one that says she’s precious, and he can wait, that makes me act.
“Fine.” I reach down and tug Isla up into my arms. “I’ll be back for you. Stay alert. Don’t move.”
