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Who am I to help in this situation, anyway?
Just a whore being bartered by two different pimps.
The sour truth coats my tongue and constricts my throat.
Yet, through the debilitating realization, I still watch the brawl play out like a football game. Stoney steps over a couple bodies on the way to pay his injured son a visit, Foster at his side.
Just as he bends over to drag a staggering Kal upward, Coty flies onto the scene, yanks Stoney around, and slams his forehead against Stoney’s nose. Kal falls back to the ground, and Foster kicks him in the ribs repeatedly, ensuring he stays down.
Movement not but twenty feet adjacent to them challenges my panicked focus, and I dare a glance that direction just in time to see Vee and Brodi slink away from the scene, disappearing behind the judges’ booth.
“Shit.” The swear passes my lips in time with my realization that Vee and Brodi are dipping out, using the brawl as a distraction to do that thing these guys pair up to do. I turn abruptly to Jess. “Hey… I… I need you to cover for me. Stay low. When this all clears, tell… tell them I went to return my mom’s clothes or something.”
She shakes her head emphatically. “What!? No! Where are you going?” I shake my head, unwilling to admit to anything at all. She blanches. “Y-you want me to lie to them?”
“Jess. You lie to K.O. every time you whisper sweet things in his ear. He is the damn Enforcer.” I regret the comment immediately. “Sorry, hun. I just really need to get to Vee; he is about to do something that will really fuck him up, and I… I gotta do something about it.” Her lips press together and unfocused gaze tracks over my shoulder. “Just a little white fib? I promise to do exactly as I said, so it is at least a partial truth. Swear.”
I have absolutely no intention of throwing myself in the line of fire; I just need to stop him before he gets too far away.
She inhales and exhales deeply. “Okay.”
A breath of relief rushes out of my lungs. I squeeze her arms. “Thank you. Seriously. I owe you.”
“N-nah. All good.” Jess chuckles nervously.
After giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, I haul ass toward the parking lot, rounding the corner and leaving the deck, beelining it toward Remi and Revelry. I scarcely catch her. Her brake lights flash a bright red as she approaches the exit.
Sprinting toward her, I investigate the road, hoping with all hope that I am fast enough to catch her before she leaves. In the distance, two swarthy black superbikes turn at the light a block away, the same road that runs along the back of the saloon. Less than a block beyond that light, Crow and Hayes both flash their brakes, pulling over when they realize Remi isn’t right behind them.
Remi must notice me running like a maniac in her side mirror. She keeps her toes on the ground, waiting. Without asking permission, I hop on and slap her right arm several times, indicating which way to go. Her feet lift, and she twists the throttle as she leans into the turn. “Take a left just up here,” I holler over the clatter of her engine.
Her helmet bobs once. “Kill your lights!” I yell just as she slows slightly to make the next turn. She does, no questions asked.
Too soon, a handful of blocks ahead, two separate brake lights flash then go dark. My lungs seize and fingers curl tight against her jacket. “Wait…” I whisper, my mind running a million different directions. When she doesn’t hear me, and we get closer… too close… I slap her arm several times. “Stop. Stop, stop,” I repeat until she gets the idea.
As soon as she does, I hop off. Balancing, she flicks up her visor. “What the hell is going on?” she asks.
My eyes flick in the direction the guys went black and back to her again. “N-nothing. Just… thanks for the ride.”
“Here?” she asks, eyebrows hiding behind the top of her open visor.
“Yeah. Here.” I point down the road. “They stopped across from my house.”
I think…
…but I really hope not.
