Page 99 of Life To My Flight

I thought about the fact that Cleo probably wouldn’t like me driving without him knowing I was out, but then I thought about the alternative of having Molly here all night, and I came to a quick decision.

“Alright,” I said as I walked slowly forward. “I’ll go get some clothes and shoes on. I’ll meet you by the front door.”

***

Rue

“Thanks for the ride,” Molly said reluctantly.

I nodded, and watched her step out of the car and slam the door without waiting for a reply.

“You’re welcome,” I said to empty air.

Bitch.

I watched her as she wobbled up the stairs, praying that she wouldn’t fall backwards.

I gave a sigh of relief as soon as she made it through her door, and pulled a U-turn before heading back towards Cleo’s place.

The purple taco bell sign called my name, and I may, or may not have stopped and gotten three tacos.

I’d just finished the final taco when I pulled into Cleo’s drive, and was stunned with what I saw.

In the thirty odd minutes I’d been gone, huge stadium lights had been erected sporadically throughout the area, and no less than five police cars, six bikes, and two large four wheel drive trucks filled the small area.

“Holy shit,” I breathed.

The blue and white lights on one police car was on at the bottom of the drive, and he stopped me when I turned in.

Coming to a stop, I rolled down my window and was blinded by the cop’s flashlight shining into my eyes.

“Ack!” I said as I flinched away from the light. “Why?”

“Ma’am, we have a situation here. You’ll have to turn around and go back the way you came.” The police officer said.

I blinked. “But…I live here!”

The cop turned his head, and then reached for the radio on his shoulder.

“Yeah, we have a woman down here claiming to live here,” the cop said.

I pursed my lips. Why on earth would I lie about that? Who in their right mind would say they live somewhere where there were five cops and who knows how many bikers all standing around looking pissed?

I put the car in park, and turned off the engine in just enough time to see Cleo coming out of the house at a full sprint, barreling straight towards me.

“Shit,” I hissed.

He looked really, really mad.

Why on earth was he running so fast?

I’d just gotten my belt off when my door was yanked open and, like a rag doll, was pulled into Cleo’s arms.

They felt like steel bands around me.

He squeezed so tight that I was having trouble breathing…not to mention tasting the three tacos I’d just eaten.

“Can’t. Breathe,” I squeezed out.

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