Chapter Five
Push
McKayla stood in front of my bike with one hand shielding her eyes from the morning sun and the other holding the strap of the helmet.She looked better than she had when I’d carried her out of the tunnel, but that wasn’t saying much.She was still pale, still moving a little slower than she probably wanted anyone to notice, and still had that stubborn set to her mouth that told me she’d rather drop dead than admit she didn’t feel great.
I swung my leg over the bike and looked back at her.“You ever ridden before?”
Her eyes moved over the bike like she was trying to decide if it was a vehicle or a death trap.“Motorcycle?No.”She tilted her head.“Dirt bike?Yeah.”
That surprised me.I didn’t know much about McKayla beyond the obvious.She was a private investigator.Her sister was missing.She had a smart mouth.She had a concussion.She also had a real bad habit of walking directly into situations she had no business walking into.
Apparently, she also rode dirt bikes.
“Bet that was fun,” I said.
Her mouth twisted slightly, but it wasn’t a smile.“It was until those foster parents got pregnant with their own baby and booted me and Erin out to the next family.”
Push went quiet after she said it.
Not because she said them dramatically, she didn’t, but because she said them the way some people talked about bad weather or traffic.Like it had happened, like it had sucked, and like there wasn’t any point pretending otherwise.
I stared at her for a second too long.
She looked away first.“That got awkward fast,” she muttered.
“Wasn’t awkward.”
“It was a little awkward.”
“It was shitty.”
Her eyes flicked back to me.
I shrugged.“What they did.Not you saying it.”
For a second, something soft moved across her face.It was there and gone quick, replaced by the same sharp humor she kept using like a shield.“Well, congratulations.You just passed the first level of not being emotionally useless.”
“Do I get a prize?”
“Absolutely not.”
I almost smiled.Almost.
The clubhouse door opened behind us before I could say anything else.
Anchor stepped out first, sunglasses already on, his cut settled over his shoulders.Pearl followed right behind him, her hair pulled back and a bright look on her face that did not match the fact we were headed to a motel to collect the belongings of a woman who had seen a corpse less than twelve hours ago.
That was Pearl though.She found brightness in the middle of bullshit.It was probably why Anchor looked at her like she was the only damn thing keeping him from burning the island down some days.
“We’ll ride with you,” Anchor said as he headed toward his bike.“After the motel, we’ll stop and see Bob.”
I nodded once.“Works.”
Pearl practically bounced beside him.“I haven’t been on the back of his bike much, so I jump at any chance I can get.”
Anchor glanced at her over his shoulder.“Any excuse to get your hands on me.”
Pearl rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.“Sure.That’s exactly it.”
