Page 171 of A Little Broken

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Dodge, calm down,” I order.

“I thought you said you were trying to take care of her, not feed her to the fucking sharks.”

“What’s your problem?” I snap. “I’m not in the mood to be yelled at, all right?”

“Why’d you bring Tatum to the fight?” he demands.

“Because she wanted to come?” I offer, well-aware the invitation was my first mistake of the evening, though I’m too bitter to rehash it with Dodge, considering he clearly feels like being an asshole tonight.

“I don’t give a shit if she wanted to come,” he argues, proving my assessment is on point. “These events are dangerous. You know that. How could you be so fucking careless?”

I grind my teeth, bend down, pick Tatum’s helmet up, and place it in the saddlebag, so I can get out of here as soon as I’m finished with this conversation. “What’s going on?” I push. “What aren’t you saying?”

Silence.

I shift my cell to my opposite ear, trying to read between the lines no matter how little information he’s giving me right now. “Dodge, it was one fight with a bunch of college students and locals.”

“Yeah, locals from The Drift,” he reminds me.

This again? Pretty sure if I had the power to crawl through the phone and shove him, I’d do it. “You forget I’m one of them,” I growl.

“Nah. If I’d forgotten, I wouldn’t have let you fight at all.”

“Let me?” I scoff.

“You know what I mean.” His silence blares through the phone, leaving me uneasy. “Listen, it isn’t only the locals I’m worried about.”

“What are you saying?”

“If it was only locals, do you really think Judge would be here?” Dodge demands. “That I would be here?”

“What are you saying?” I repeat. “Stop talking in riddles, and tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“You really wanna know how Rudy died?” Dodger seethes. “He died because Judge messed with the wrong people at one of these fucked-up gatherings. They lost a shit-ton of money, thought Judge played them, and killed his best friend for it, all right? That’s why Judge pulled the plug on these events. It’s why they should’ve stayed dead in the first place. You understand?”

I don’t. I don’t understand at all. What the hell is Dodger talking about? Leaning against my bike, I point out, “Rudy died from a drug overdose.”

“Did he?” Dodger challenges.

And fuck me, I don’t know. I don’t know how he died. I don’t know anything. Not anymore. Not after the inflection in Dodger’s voice, hinting otherwise. Why would they lie?

Dropping my head toward the night sky, I ask, “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I need you to understand. And I need you and Tatum to be safe.”

I look up at Tatum’s building, catching her silhouette in the window. “We’re safe.”

“Good.” He pauses. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure you don’t wanna get caught up in this.”

He’s right. I don’t. Not before I answered this call, and sure as hell not after. “I gotta go.”

“Me, too. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

“Yeah.” My hands shake as I hang up the phone, dialing Roman.

He answers on the third ring.

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