Page 107 of Boneyard HEA

Joseph and his damn drug-fueled party started this. May he burn in Hell, rot for eternity.

I merge onto the highway and head north, feeling the pounding of my angry, anxiety-riddled heart. I’m not normal right now. Surprise surprise.

Those men in London were chasing me. Only me. I find I’ve pressed the accelerator too much and I’m speeding. I ease off. I don’t have a driver’s license here. If I do something wrong and get pulled over, how do I explain this car?

Fuck the police too.

I wriggle, settle myself in the seat, and pray for an easy run to their house. I’ve no phone and no money. I eye the glove box. It’s dead unlikely I’ll find money in there or a paper map, but it’s worth a look.

Phones are bad, remember. Phones can be tracked.

I can do this. I’ll ask directions at a service station and keep calm.

I pinch my lips together. I can do this. Today was scary.

But Shawn and Zasha were worse.

Rafael

As the rider slows his horse to a trot, his frown lessens. “Alden! You’re okay!” The hooves make loud clops when they strike the road. From the way he turned his head as he passed the flattened section of hedgerow, he saw the wreck. Though perhaps not the bodies.

Alden smiles grimly and nods. “I’m fine, father, though the Porsche is a write-off.”

“I see.” The man leans forward over the withers of his mount, his hands fidgeting on the reins, his eyes and mouth hard.

I lower the gun to my side.

He takes a few measured seconds to assess me and my weapon then our nearby surroundings. “Good. Thank god you’re not hurt.”

He carefully dismounts, keeping the reins in one hand, and giving the horse a pat. Then he steps over to also pat his son on the shoulder and grip him there. He gives the bemused Alden a light shake.

At a guess, from the peppering of gray in his hair, he must be about fifty.

Finally, he looks to me. “What’s happened here? That looked like a gun in the grass back there, and you have one. I expect the police have been called?”

“Not ye⁠—”

“No.” I cut off Alden. “I wouldn’t.” I’m thinking fast under the surface while trying to act in command of the situation. This could be a nightmare for the CNC Fraternity. If no one had arrived to see this, we had a chance to cordon off this area and wipe the crash site clean. I will have to make contact and ask. They offered me a broad slate of services for watching her, keeping her under control.

Now I’m having to sort out what to do, in seconds.

Georgia is still back there. I glance above the hedge and am relieved at the lack of smoke in the air—only the same burned rubber and oil smell.

I need to go check on her.

Alden’s father raises his eyebrows. “And you are?”

“The man who shot the three men who spiked the tires then tried to kill us. If…” I say this firmly as he opens his mouth to speak. “If you call the cops, you’ll be in the media spotlight for months.”

“I don’t know you, sir. You carry a gun and you helped my son survive this—I can see this and I am grateful. However, the repercussions from not reporting this and it then being discovered would be worse and much more illegal than⁠—”

“I may have shot a man too.” Alden grimaces. “Wasn’t exactly murder but the asshole was lying down…”

Benjamin sighs. “On top of the awful news I have for you this is bad. Don’t look at your phone, boy. Please.” He runs his hand through his hair, making what was a perfectly orderly short haircut a ruffled mess. “Who am I talking to here?”

“What awful news?” Confused, Alden looks at his father, checks his jeans pocket for his phone and takes it out but doesn’t look.

“Just wait. Please.” Again he squeezes his son’s shoulder.