Page 144 of Love Bleeds Red
The quiet one swallows hard. Baseball Cap and Small Eyes look at each other, silently communicating their options. Imight be outnumbered, but my presence has shifted the entire dynamic.
“Whatever, psycho,” Baseball Cap finally says. “She’s not even that hot.”
That does it. The careful control I’ve been struggling to maintain snaps like a dislocated joint. Something I’d very much like to do to him right now. But instead, I continue to memorize his face, burn it into my memory along with every detail I can capture about his friends. The logo on Small Eyes shirt. University Athletics. The scar on Tall Boy’s chin. The license plate number as they walk toward their beat up Jeep. HDR 4792.
I don’t move until their car starts and they drive out of the lot, taillights disappearing into the night.
But I’ll see them again soon.
Right now though, Bailey needs me. I tap gently on the car window.
“Bailey? Can you unlock the door for me?”
The locks click, and I slide into the cluttered passenger seat. She’s curled up against the driver’s door, shaking so hard her teeth are chattering, and tears are streaming down her face.
“Hey,” I say softly, not reaching for her yet. “You’re safe. They’re gone.”
“I’m sorry,” she gasps between sobs. “I’m sorry, you were right, I wasn’t ready?—”
“Stop.” I keep my voice gentle but firm. “You have nothing to apologize for. Those pieces of shit had no right to come near you.”
She looks at me with red, swollen eyes. “How did you know?”
I rub the back of my neck, knowing she’s not going to like my answer. “I was already here. Waiting in the parking lot next door.”
Her jaw slackens. “You followed me.”
“I was worried.” The words sound inadequate even to my own ears. “I know you wanted to do this on your own, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you walking out here alone. I drove myself crazy… I’m sorry.”
She stares at me for a long time, and I brace myself for her anger. Instead, she launches herself across the center console and into my arms, sobbing against my chest.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for coming.”
I hold her tight, feeling the aftershocks of tremors in her small frame, and that cold rage starts building again. Those fuckers put their hands on her. Made her afraid. Made her feel helpless.
“Can you drive?” I ask after her breathing starts to even out.
She nods against my chest. “I think so.”
“Let’s get your stuff, then you can follow me home. Stay right behind me, okay?”
“Okay.”
I help her out of the car—her manager Derek’s, she tells me as we walk back toward the employee door. I refuse to let her go inside alone, and we pass the office where Derek is laughing at a YouTube video behind the partially closed door. I clutch my fists to stop myself from going in there and wringing his neck for being such a useless shithead.
“Don’t,” Bailey wraps her hand around my arm. “It’s not his fault.”
I guess I’m not that great at hiding my feelings. I nod, stuffing my anger down deep so it can stew and grow until I can release it on those three fucking predators.
Bailey grabs her purse and keys from behind the counter while I keep watch by the back door, scanning the parking lot for any sign those assholes might come back. They won’t. I could see it in their eyes when they drove off. But my protective instincts are in overdrive right now, so I can’t help but stay vigilant.
“Got everything?” I ask as she rejoins me.
She nods, clutching her purse against her chest like armor. “Yeah.”
I walk her to her car—a small used Honda that her parents helped her buy a few weeks ago. She gets in and starts the engine while I fire up my bike. I pull out first, checking my mirrors constantly to make sure she’s still behind me as we wind through the dark streets toward home.
But with every stoplight and turn, my mind keeps circling back to those three guys. To the way they cornered her. To that final insult as they walked away.
