Page 16 of Devil's Due

“Yeah, I’ll take you home. Don’t like the idea of you going off with a stranger.”

She frowns, then snaps out, “I’m blind, not helpless.”

I nearly smile at the vehemence in her tone. “Not suggesting you are. But this place is crammed, Stevie. Don’t know how long you’ll need to wait for a ride. It is late on a Saturday. Fastest way to get you back is for you to come with me.”

A snort makes me look up. Pyro’s eyes have widened. But he doesn’t know my philosophy of thinking the pillion seat comes in useful for anyone needing to hitch a ride. Doesn’t mean anything more to me. Waste of time having one if you’re not going to have a passenger, and no point me reserving it for an old lady seeing as I’m not going to go down that route again.

“Ever been on a bike?” Pal asks, dubiously, his eyes studying hers. I’m just about to reply and say her sight or lack of has nothing to do with her ability to hang on when she replies.

“Not for a while, but back in my late teens I used to ride on the back of a bike.”

“So, not a virgin?” I grin, though she won’t be able to see it.

Her cheeks flash red. “No.”

“Well, come on then. Let’s get you home.” At last I get to my feet and hold out my hand.

She hesitates.

It hits me I’m exactly what I warned her of. “Hey, I know I’m a stranger…”

“It’s not that. I don’t think of you that way, not after everything you’ve done for me. But, could you give me your hand?”

Well, fuck.Stupid fucking idiot. This time, my hand reaches out further and grasps hold of hers.

She takes it but doesn’t keep hold of it. Instead, once she’s standing, she moves it until she rests her fingers in the crook of my arm. “Lead on.”

Pyro’s watching her, then giving a jerk of his head, steps in front of me. He clears a path ahead, and I lead her through. All’s well until we get to the door and instead of taking the ramp, I step down…

Luckily my reactions are fast and I manage to catch hold of her before she topples right over. I hear a muttered ‘fuck’under her breath.

“Jeez, babe, I’m sorry.”

“Beef, if I had a dollar for the number of times people have forgotten to warn me about a step, or a curb, I’d be a very rich woman. That’s where Max is good.”

“Your dog warns you?”

“Yes. He stops.”

“Dog’s got more fuckin’ brains than you, Beef.”

“Can it,” I growl. But Pyro’s observation has made Stevie giggle, even though she’d stiffened at the reminder she was without her dog.

Steps, curbs. Stop at them.If a dog can be trained then so can I. But why the fuck am I trying to commit that to memory? I’ll take her home, drop her off, make sure she’s okay, then go get that fucking beer that has my name written on it.

Chapter Seven

The lamps around the parking lot cast good light in places, poor in others. For the first time in my life I’m studying where to place my feet. While Pyro and Pal squeeze through narrow gaps between the cars making a direct beeline to our bikes, I lead Stevie up and down the rows taking care there’s no obstacle in her path.

By the time I’ve reached my bike, I’ve a new admiration for Max. While I’ve only led Stevie a short distance, it’s clear that no distractions are allowed, and the job requires complete concentration. Somewhere in the depths of my memory I recall being told you shouldn’t interact with a service dog while it’s working, and now I understand the reason why.

When we reach my bike, I remember that my saddle bags are still full of my clothing, and the pillion seat is heaped high with the rest of the shit I brought with me. But I needn’t have worried. Pal’s already unhooking the bungee cords and Pyro’s piling my bags on his bike. True brothers jumping in and sorting out a problem you didn’t even know you had. Pal even extracts a helmet from his pannier.

“Jay’s,” he explains, “but I think it will fit.”

I approach Stevie. When the helmet touches her head, she jumps. “Fuck, sorry. Just putting a helmet on you, okay?”She can’t see, dumbass.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” But my unexpected action has shocked her, I can see how her breathing sped up.

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