Page 40 of The Rowdy Ones
I carefully exit the RV, not interested in hearing the slapping of flesh. It reminds me of another time, in my past, that Jace’s flesh slapped against mine. There’s nothing sexy or erotic about it. To be honest, it’s triggering.
Once outside, I breathe in the icy cold air. I could wait in the truck with Uncle Atticus, but I’d rather walk with Rowdy.
So he’ll touch you?
I’m grateful for the wind that chills my skin. Otherwise, shame would have me sweating right about now.
Woof.
Whipping my head to the left, I listen for the sound again. Wolf? Coyote? Dog?
Woof. Woof.
It’s nearby. I hope it’s not rabid or vicious.
The door to the RV opens and the steps creak as Rowdy descends them. I know it’s him because I can usually sense his intense presence even without his smokey pine scent.
His palm touches my lower back and I shiver.
“It’s cold out here,” he grunts. “Let’s get to the truck.”
We make our trek through the newly fallen snow to Uncle Atticus’s vehicle. Rowdy is quiet, but I get the sense he wants to say something to me. Before we reach the truck, he fists my coat, forcing me to stop. I whip my head over to angle my face up at him.
“What?”
“Sorry you, uh, walked in on all that.”
“I can’t see, so we’re all good.”
He sighs heavily and I smell the mint of his toothpaste. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“It’s fine. Let’s go.” I reach out, touching the truck, hoping to find the door handle.
Rowdy gently takes my arm and guides it in the right direction. “Yup.”
Once inside, I smell Uncle Atticus’s coffee. It reminds me of Gwen’s special coffee. I wonder if I could purchase some of my own to drink in the mornings. I’ll have to ask her where I can get it.
“You gave us all a scare last night,” Uncle Atticus says to Rowdy once we’re on the road. “Everyone thought you were dead. We got you that phone for a reason.”
Rowdy grunts. “I’m sorry. Just went out for some alone time. Lost track of, well, everything. Won’t happen again.”
“Damn right,” Uncle Atticus bites out. “I’m going to make sure your tracker is working too. I didn’t think we’d need one on you, but I was wrong.”
I know Rowdy hates being spoken to like a child based on his huffs of frustration, but I agree with Uncle Atticus on this one. Not knowing where he was all day yesterday was stressful. When we learned of the homicide, it was even worse. I really thought he was dead.
My stomach twists and I feel slightly sick. Reminds me of the morning sickness I started getting. Great. Now my heart hurts too.
Shoving an earbud in my ear, I tell my phone to play the playlist Weston helped me make. It’s all music I’ve never heard of, with dark, soulful tones and lyrics. I love it. My favorite is a Death Cab for Cutie song called “I Will Follow You into the Dark.” Even though Weston chose it for me to listen to, it makes me think of Rowdy.
I’ve made it through my favorite songs on the playlist by the time Uncle Atticus shuts off the truck. I’m not keen on them walking me in because last time, they were dicks.
“Stay here,” Rowdy says to him. “I’ll get her to the door. Keep this thing warm. It’s cold as fuck out there.”
Uncle Atticus grunts and turns the engine over again. I slide out of the vehicle and shut the door behind me. Rowdy clutches me on the back of the neck, his large hand warming me.
“What’s on your schedule today?” Rowdy asks, thumb rubbing along the side of my neck and causing me to shiver. “Any cool shit they’re teaching you?”
I command for my phone to read me today’s schedule. In a robotic, female voice it says, “Orientation and mobility therapy including white cane, echolocation basics, terrain awareness, and other mobile practices such as walking routes and navigating stairs.”
