Page 117 of L.O.V.E

“I gotta go.” I slammed my palms on the table, my heart hammering, chest constricting. My only thought was getting to Natalie.

Footsteps tracked behind me. Heavy. Determined. I reached my car. Turned.

“You’re not doing this alone.” Tango walked around to the passenger seat.

“I can handle it,” I argued, though I had no idea how.

“We know.” Tito tucked into the back seat, filling half the space. “Don’t wanna miss the fun.” He was already on the phone. “Hey, Bunny, Aida still with you?” He paused, nodded, said, “Good. Listen. I need your help.”

Sitting cool as a cucumber, Tango explained, “Tito owns the top floor of Natalie’s apartment. She’ll be fine.”

Natalie

Children of all shapes and sizes littered the playground, their energy addicting, their giggles and squeals infectious as they enjoyed the first sunny day in months.

Cole’s face lit up my screen, and I answered with a heady, “Hi.”

“Hey, gorgeous. Where are you?”

“Sitting in the park. I sent Mom and Dad off, and it’s so beautiful today I didn’t want to go back inside yet.”

“Do me a favor?”

“Sure.” I snuggled into the collar of my coat. “What’s up?”

“Head back. Lock up. I’m on my way. Should be there in fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“Cole. Why do you sound upset?”

“I’ll explain when I get there. Please. Just go back inside for me?”

“Okay.” I looked around, worried. “You’re scaring me a little bit.”

A pause. A loud exhale. “Sorry, sunshine. Don’t mean to scare you. Just got some information you need to hear.”

“Okay.”

“Call me when you’re safe inside?”

“Sure.” I tucked my phone into my back pocket, pushed off the bench, righted my crutches, and headed the half block toward home.

At the front entrance, my cell buzzed. I should’ve continued inside, but instead I read the screen.

Gotchu

Shit. Shit. Shit. I turned to look over my shoulder and dropped a crutch.

“Shit!” Hobbling on one foot, I bent to retrieve my fallen support.

“Let me get that,” came the familiar voice.

I stilled, the chill permeating my bones.

Slowly, cautiously, head throbbing, chest pounding, I rose to face my greatest mistake.

“Holden.” I scanned my surroundings. The street was busy, the sidewalk dotted with people. I was safe for the time being. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

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