“I’ll be right here waiting.”
I give her a quick kiss on her forehead before reluctantly walking away. I don’t love that Braden is hanging around, but she will be fine with our friends. The sooner I go deal with my truck, the sooner I can get back to her.
I find Dillon and Carson waiting by the door. They both look grim, but I expect it’s for different reasons.
“Okay, what’s going on?” I ask them.
“Outside.” Dillon pushes open the door and leads us out into the dimly lit parking lot. He walks silently, in hurried steps, towards my truck. Carson and I follow close behind.
Stopping a few feet away, he says, “I noticed your passenger-side tire was flat first, but when I got closer, I saw it wasn’t just the front tire. It looks like someone slashed them all.”
“What the fuck?” Carson says, crouching down, running his fingers over the sidewall before rising to his feet.
“Seriously?” I walk around the vehicle. Sure enough, every tire is deflated like a balloon.
“This wasn’t an accident,” Carson says, stating the obvious.
“No shit.” Dillon snorts and then says to me, “I wasn’t sure if you would want me to say anything in front of Beck or if you just want to take care of it. This has Braden written all over it.”
“Fuck,” I growl. “He was here. He was texting her from inside earlier.”
“Shit.” Carson rubs his palm up his jaw and walks in a slow circle. “What’s the plan?”
“I’ll run home and grab the flatbed and tow it to the garage. I’ll have to check, but I may have the tires you need in stock. If I don’t, it will take a day or two to get them in.”
“Yeah, okay,” I agree, running my fingers over the face of my watch.
We all glance up when the bar door opens, country music slipping out before it closes again. Boots crunch across the gravel, unhurried as Riot makes his way towards us.
“What’s going on? Beck said you have a flat.” He looks down, narrowing his eyes before he looks back at me in surprise. “They’ve been slashed.”
“Apparently.” Suddenly I don’t care about my truck at all. I need to get back to Beck.
“She’s fine,” Riot reassures me as if he can read my mind. “The next round is about to begin. Since most of our team is out in the parking lot, Logan is sitting with them.”
Inhaling deeply through my nose, I say, “Okay.”
“Are you going to tell her?” Carson asks, glancing at the truck and back to me.
“I should, but I don’t want to. She’s having fun, and I don’t want that fucker to ruin her evening.” Running both hands through my hair, I begin to pace.
“She’ll be pissed if you don’t,” Carson says.
“Oh, I know.” I puff out a breath.
“You need to tell Mason,” Riot mutters, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“That can wait until morning. We don’t need to draw any attention to the situation right now,” Dillon says. “I’ll take a few pictures before I load it on the truck and then again once I get it in a bay.”
“I can drive you both home,” Riot says. “Logan and Hannah have their hands full. She’s going to convince Meg to come back to their cabin for the night for a sleepover.”
Kicking a stone with his boot, Carson mutters, “Yeah, she probably shouldn’t be left alone.” Turning to Dillon, he asks, “Do you need any help?”
He furrows his forehead and rubs a hand across his jaw. “No, I’m good. I’ll be right back with the truck.” He grumbles as he walks away.
“Text the group chat if you change your mind,” Carson calls after him.
“I won’t.”
