Nodding his head, he lets it go as Drew moves the phone from her face, but lifts it up quickly. A smile spreads on her face, and it feels as if it lightens my soul. Maybe she isn’t as miserable as the last few voicemails make her seem.
“She has questions.” Collins tells me.
No shit.
“She deserves some answers.” He tells me as if I don’t know.
I don’t answer him. I wait on the side street before pulling onto the road a few seconds after she passes.
It makes me smile when she pulls up to pistons and gets out of the car, moving into the lobby and seeing the bay door roll open.
“Atta girl.” I mumble to myself as I know she caught the clue about the likelihood of the tracker on her car.
Am I certain that Sherman put one in her car? No, but there’s enough of a possibility that she needs to be safe.
“Goddamn,” Collins mumbles as the bike in the bay revs to life and Drew rolls out.
Without turning it off, she moves off the bike back into the bay before exiting the lobby of the shop, locking the door behind her.
“Typically, I’m not attracted to biker chicks, but —”
“I will murder you.” I mumble while following behind her, leaving enough space so she doesn’t spot us, but close enough so we don’t lose her
Collins laughs, shaking his head. “I mean, you gave it up, might as well make a move.”
I know he’s fucking with me, but he’s still getting underneath my skin and making me grip the steering wheel tighter.
“I’m just fucking with you, man, but know it will be someone.”
“I know.” I nod my head as my heart aches at the thought.
“And you have no one to blame but yourself.”
“Can we not?” I ask him.
“Suit yourself.” He mumbles.
The car falls silent, and we continue to follow Drew on the bike as she makes her way through the city. I’m about to veer off from her as she leaves the city limits when she veers off and pulls into the parking lot of a drugstore. Kicking over the bike, she grabs what I can only assume is her wallet out of the bag before walking through the sliding doors.
“Do you have a bike?”
“Yeah.”
“How long have you had it?”
“We finished it when I was 17.”
“We?”
“Yeah. Ash, Z, Zeke, and I built all three of ours.”
“So you helped build that one?” he points to the bike that’s waiting for Drew.
“Yup.”
The conversation falls again as Drew reappears from the doors, sighing as she shoves a small bag into the saddlebag and kicks over the seat, once more.
We watch as she pulls back out onto the road, but I don’t move the car, just continue to watch after her as she leaves the city, telling myself this has to be done.
