Page 28 of If You Go
Thirty seconds? A minute? I don’t know. My hands are vibrating, they shake so bad. I can’t get my breathing under control, I feel like I might pass out. He reemerges with two duffels, a packet, two flip phones, chargers, and guns. The weight of the world reorders itself around the sight.
He drops the bags and strides over to me, grabbing my face firmly, but gentle enough to guide my eyes to his. With our foreheads together he takes a large inhale, causing my brain to mimic him. I reach up and grab his wrists tightly, as if they are a lifeline I didn’t realize I needed.
“Wherever you go, I go,” he says. “Here are your clothes. Do you need help?”
I don’t answer. My hands are numb. He takes that as a yes—peels the shirt off me with efficient gentleness, slides my bra on, then my top, kneels to work jeans over my shaky legs, and socks onto my feet. No panties. Not asking. He’s changed too: black slim cargos, fitted black tee, high tops, that brutal multi-pocket jacket. He looks like the thing men cross streets to avoid.
“Surry, have you used a gun before?”
I nod. My dad insisted beginning at twelve. Range days instead of recitals, another reason I should have guessed he was more than justin the security world. He places a pistol into my palm. Muscle memory checks the mag, the chamber, and the safety. Loaded. Safe on. It slides into my waistband like it was made for me.
The weight wakes something in me. I look up at him, grab his shirt, pull him down, and kiss him hard—like lighting a match inside my own chest. He kisses me back just as fervently.
“Thank you,” I breathe against his mouth. “I needed that.” He smiles tightly down at me, going in for one more kiss, quick but firm.
Then we move.
Back in the living room, the air tastes like chalk. Joshua stands alone now, backlit by the torn wall; the others are gone.
“Where did they go?” I ask, throat raw.
“Corver took Juniper, Richie, and Hazel to our safe house,” Joshua says, eyes still working. His jaw works when he says June, showing his clear disdain of being separated from her. “Your dad’s guys took the other three to the hospital. Selene caught shrapnel in her abdomen. She’ll be fine if they get there quickly. She’ll likely need surgery, though. It bled, yeah—but it was red and steady, not that dark, pumping arterial—so I’m betting high odds.” He finally looks at me. Steady. Grounding.
“Okay, so what are we doing?” I cross the dining room, snatch my purse from a chair buried in dust and glittering glass. My phone is inside, blessedly intact.
“We hang back,” he says. “They’ll assume you got pulled the second it went off. Let ’em chase ghosts while we breathe and think. Everyone’s prepped. Don’t be afraid.”
I nod, but the laugh that punches out of me tastes like a sob. “Okay, so then what? Safe house? Mexico?” The laugh breaks. “I can’t be taken. He can’t take me. I can’t be there again. I’ll kill myself this time.”
I’m not sorry I said it, and I mean it. I can’t go back. I know I thought that would solve all our problems. But the time I endured with Gavin was more than enough for an entire lifetime. I look at Brenden. He doesn’t look shocked by the declaration, simply serious. Josh on the other hand, his face is alarmed, but alert.
Brenden steps in behind me, arms gentle but iron, breath warm and gentle at my ear. “He can’t take you because I won’t let that happen. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m not going anywhere either, shorty,” Joshua’s mouth crooks, having recovered from his shock. “You’re stuck with that giant idiot, which means I’ve got your six like I’ve got his.”
The panic eases its claws a fraction, barely. I nod.
“Okay. So what’s the plan when we do finally leave?”
“We need to talk to your dad,” Brenden says. “See what he wants to do.”
Easy. I thumb Dad’s contact and put it on speaker.
“Oh, my sweet Surry,” my father answers, his accent thicker—stress always drags Galway into his mouth. “I’m so glad ye’re okay. Yer sister’s just in the doors o’ the hospital. Why aren’t ye with her?”
“It’s okay, Papa. I'm still with Brenden and Josh Slater at their apartment.”
“Aye, good an’ good. I’ve always admired th’ lads.” Brenden and Josh both shoot me a look. I can’t help the smirk before shrugging. Seeing them so shocked is hilarious, but I am equally out of the loop on what that means.
“Yes, Daddy—I’m sure Samuel has told you lots about them.”
“No, love, I’ve kept my eye on ‘em fer a time now. Glad ye found ’em.” That surprises me. I had no idea that my dad knew the Slater’s more than just what Sam had told them. To know the Mafia has been watching them, I’m not sure if they should feel proud or terrified.
“Oh. Okay. Papa—where do I go? What do we do?”
“Go t’ the place where the sky meets the sea, Surry. D’ye know the one?” His voice lowers, meaning threaded through sound.
“Yes. I know.” The memories of salt and gulls, and the heavy scent of the sea roll through me like a tide. It’s the code we use whenever we talk about it.
