Page 112 of Otto: The Hawthornes

I didn’t watch as she flew out of the garage, just stepped outside, my pistol up. Someone was standing close to the front door of the house and I fired at him, moving forward.

Gravel sprayed and I barely glanced toward the Mustang as it skidded backward. Esther hadn’t been lying when she said shecould drive a stick. She was in first before I could blink and was flying down the driveway.

The man by the house finally went down, and I spun, looking for the other one. He was running toward the Mustang. It clipped him as Esther flew right past.

Good girl.

I ran toward him, and I was almost there when the roar of Harley pipes filled the air.

Chapter 17

Esther

Itried reallyhard to follow Otto’s directions, even though everything inside me told me to wait for him, but as I turned out onto the road going way too fast, I saw the motorcycles coming toward me. They weren’t in their lane.

Panicking, I swerved hard. Straight into the ditch.

I came to a jarring stop, biting my tongue in the process.

The motorcycles passed, turning into our driveway, and I let out a small sob of relief. They’d help Otto.

I nearly peed my pants when a gloved fist started pounding on my window.

“Hey, you okay?” the man yelled, yanking at the door.

He was wearing the same kind of vest that Otto wore.Friend.

“I’m okay,” I called back, fumbling with my seat belt and reaching for the lock at the same time.

“You sure?” he asked, throwing open the door. The car was sitting at a weird angle, and he had to stand against the door to keep it from closing again. “You’re bleedin’.”

“I’m okay,” I repeated, scrambling out of the car. I wiped at my forehead and cheeks, assuming I must’ve smacked my face and hadn’t realized it. “You have to help Otto. He’s at the house—” I stopped, my eyes widening in horror as I realized I’d sprayed the front of his vest and flannel with blood.

“Whoa,” he murmured as I stumbled. “You’re alright. Let me see your mouth.”

“Otto,” I repeated, pulling away. “You need to help Otto.”

“He’s got all the help he needs, sweetheart,” the man replied. “Trust me on that. Now I need to know why you’re bleeding.”

I stared over his shoulder at our driveway as I opened my mouth wide so he could look inside.

“Damn,” he said, pulling a black bandana out of his pocket. “You cut the hell outta your tongue and lip. Here, put some pressure on it.”

I nodded and pressed the bandana against my mouth as I pushed past him. He stayed close to my side as we crossed the road and held me back until he was sure that it was safe for me to go closer. When the house came into sight, my breath caught in my throat. You could see the flames coming through the living room window.

“Shit,” the man muttered as we got closer.

A few of the men were dealing with the guys who’d attacked us, but the rest of them were running in and out of the house. Otto turned away from his uncle Will as I reached them, and cursed.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” he asked gruffly. “Fuck, you’re bleedin’!”

“I bit my tongue,” I replied, hysterical laughter bubbling out of my mouth. “I wrecked your car.” My voice broke on the last word.

“And we’re glad you did,” Will said dryly. “Rather than plow into us like a bowling ball.”

“Shit, Esther,” Otto murmured, pulling me into his arms. “Is that it? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I sniffled. “I wasn’t going that fast.”

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