"You're sure?"
"Yeah. I'm sure."
The truth is, I don't want to let her out of my sight yet. Don't want to watch her drive away and spend the whole night wondering if she made it home safe. If that asshole has friends who might still be around. If she's okay.
I just want to know she's safe. That's all.
But I’m lying, and I know it.
I also want more time with her. Want to hear more of her voice, see more of her smiles, exist in her orbit for as long as she'll let me. Want to tell her things I've never told anyone except Erin and maybe not even her.
I'm in deep. So fucking deep I can't see the surface anymore.
"Okay," Joanna says. She takes a breath, steadies herself. "Let me grab my stuff and I'll be ready to go."
She moves past me toward the corner where she'd been sitting. Picks up her backpack, checks inside it for something. Her hands are steadier now. Still a little shaky, but better than before.
She's tougher than she looks, than she probably gives herself credit for.
I watch her organize her things with that same care I've noticed before. Everything has its place. Everything gets accounted for. The habits of someone who can't afford to lose anything, even something small.
"I need to actually clock out," she says, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "And let Rampage know I'm leaving. He tracks everyone's hours."
"I'll walk with you."
The cleaners are finishing, working around some overturned chairs and broken bottles. The Riders are posted by the doors again, talking quietly. Rampage is behind the bar, pressing ice to his split lip.
He looks up when he sees us. His eyes go from me to Joanna and back again. I can practically see him adding things up, drawing conclusions.
"Everything okay?" he asks.
"Yeah," I say. "Joanna's heading out. I'm giving her a ride."
"Following her, you mean?"
"Riding with her."
Rampage's eyebrows go up slightly, but he doesn't comment. Just nods. "Alright. Joanna, you good with that?"
She nods. "Yeah. I'm good."
"Those assholes won't be back," Rampage says. "But if you see anything weird, anything at all, you call me immediately. Understand?"
"I will. Thank you."
He waves her toward the back office. "Go clock out. Take tomorrow night off if you need it."
"I'll be fine—"
"Take it anyway. Paid." His tone leaves no room for argument. "Consider it hazard pay for dealing with drunk idiots."
Joanna looks like she wants to argue, but practical need wins out. She nods and heads to clock out.
Once she's out of earshot, Rampage turns to me. "You know what you're doing?"
"No fucking clue."
"She's got a kid, Danny."
