Page 21 of Everest

Tequila chokes on her drink, which startles Wick.

Nova’s laughing so hard he damn near spills his beer.

“He disappears into the tree line, no flashlight. No TP. Twenty minutes passed before he came walking back, lookinglike he’d been to war, holdin’ his boots in his hands and no fuckin’ socks on.”

The entire group erupts. Catcher is doubled over, Nova wipes tears from his eyes, and Riggs laughs while signing what’s being said to Luna, who shakes her head and signs ‘disgusting.’

“I was blowin’ napalm and prayin’ for mercy. Nothin’ but soft cotton was touchin’ my pucker button after that, so I offered up my socks like a goddamn sacrifice.”

London’s gaze catches mine mid-laugh and lingers momentarily before shifting away. Her face glows in the firelight, her lips slightly parted, her eyes fixed on the flames, and she gets lost, like she is a thousand miles away.

What’s that all about?

London stands, brushing her legs. “And on that note, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” she says lightly. “Not feeling great.”

Promise frowns. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” London nods. “I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow, so...” her voice trails off.

I’m not buying it.

For weeks now, she’s been dipping out early, avoiding people, slipping away like she’s got something to hide.

Maybe she does.

That thought sits like a fucking rock in my stomach.

I don’t want to care.

I shouldn’t.

But I do because, like it or not, she’s got her hooks in me.

While the rest of the crew shoot the shit, I sit silent. I wait, giving London time to get some distance before checking out myself.

When I think enough time has passed, I stand. “I’m out.”

Kiwi eyes me. “First London, now you? Somethin’ you not tellin’ us, mate?”

“No.” I do my damnedest to keep my tone neutral, not wanting to stir up more speculation and curiosity than I already am by leaving.

“Stay safe,” Riggs says, leaving it at that.

I nod. “Always.”

I turn my back and stroll across the yard, heading for my bike, the whole time feeling the weight of everyone’s stares.

The sound of my engine tearing through the night makes my leaving anything but subtle, but I don’t give a fuck. I only have one thing on my mind—London.

I have no trouble catching up to her car, but I keep my distance, far enough back that she won’t notice me shadowing her. As we near the exit back to the city, she blows right by it.

Where the hell is she going?

A fucked-up feeling coils in my gut as I consider the possibility that she’s meeting some bastard. Again, it shouldn’t bother me, but it does, and it gets me thinking about Pop’s words from earlier.

I grit my teeth and try like hell to push my frustration away because if she slips through my fingers, I have no one to blame but myself.

I tail her for another thirty minutes before she slows and flicks on her turn signal. So I ease off the throttle, watching her pull into a parking lot with a neon sign glowing against the darkness, casting a dull red glow over the lot.

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