Page 68 of Love Me Dangerous

I give Kirilee a quick goodbye hug and hurryto catch up with Ava and Hutch. At the food truck pavilion, we meet up with more of our friends.

We’re discussing our options when I spot Gabe standing with two of his hunting guide buddies at the Sunset Spur Taco Truck.

“Come with me for a sec,” I say in Ava’s ear.

She gives me a look. “What about Kirilee?”

“We’ll be right back,” I say.

She rocks up on her toes to say something to Hutch, who nods before turning back to our friends.

I grab Ava’s hand and lead her to the exit.

It’s still early, but locals and tourists alike are heading into the festival from the lot across the street. We wait our turn to cross, and once we’re in the gravel parking lot, I walk to the nearest big truck and climb onto the tailgate.

“What in the world are we doing?”

The cool wind makes my eyes water, but from this vantage, I can speed up our search.

“Got it.” Gabe’s black truck is parked three rows away, on the far-left side.

“Got what?”

I jump down. A group of older festivalgoers in their starchy-looking denim and wide-brimmed cowboy hats cast me a look of concern, but I grab Ava’s hand and pull her away. “Come on.”

When we’re alone, I say, “If Gabe’s here, so is his truck.”

“And we care because?”

“Zach thinks he may have broken something on the front left when he fought back. Maybe it was a headlight.”

Ava’s eyes light up. “Ohhhh.”

We round the second row. Gabe’s truck is parked facing away from us.

I look behind, then to the right, down the row, but this section of the lot is full, so there’s no traffic. I slip between the left side of Gabe’s truck and a minivan. The shelter from the wind makes the space feel warm, the dust swirling around our ankles.

The canopy over Gabe’s truck bed has tinted windows, hiding his cargo. When we dated, we spent enough time in this very truck bed thatI would remember seeing a baseball bat. More unwanted memories twist through my thoughts, making me feel exposed even though those times are long over. I don’t like thinking of how things were between us back then. How I felt about myself. Like I was damaged goods. Like I didn’t deserve better.

The cab looks tidy the way it always does during hunting season because he’s often carting around clients.

No baseball bat.

When we get to the front of the truck, I’m careful not to touch anything. My small fingerprints would stand out on the dust-coated black paint. I squat down so I’m eye level with the left headlight assembly. Though I don’t know much about cars, nothing looks broken.

“You sure it was the left?” Ava asks, her hands on her hips. She walks to the right side, her sandals crunching on the gravel, and squints closely at the headlight.

“That’s what Zach said.” I peer at the left one from different angles, pivoting on the balls of my feet. There’s a thin light bar bordering the top and side of the headlight and turn signal assembly, which is covered by a thick layer of plastic. The cover has a few minor scratches, but Gabe regularly takes his clients off-road, so that’s not a surprise. Inside, neither of the individual lights look broken or cracked, and there’s no glass or pieces resting inside the bottom of the cavity.

“It happened a few days ago, so he could have fixed it?” Ava returns to my corner.

“Possible.” I stand up and sigh.

“Who else would want to hurt Zach?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “What if it was just a warning?”

Ava rests a gentle hand on my shoulder, her eyes filling with kindness. “You’re a goner for this boy, aren’t you?”

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