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22
Ryder
Absentmindedly, I bring my hand to my face. I let my fingertips run over the spot where her lips touched my skin. It’s like she left an imprint, just like her scent is lingering inside the truck, and her presence never seems to leave my house.
I have to force myself to drive home, fighting the urge to turn around and make her come back with me. Driving on autopilot, I’m lost in my thoughts. I did the right thing by leaving her, I tell myself. She doesn’t belong with me…
All my internal rambling ends when I turn onto my road. Blue flashing lights from two police cars and an ambulance light up the street. All parked in front of my house.
What the fuck?
When I get closer, I spot Maddox’s bike on the front lawn, him standing next to it.
I park in the street, cut the engine, and hop out of the truck.
“Why the fuck are you not answering your goddamn phone!” he yells at me, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Someone called the cops hearing shots inside your house. When the cops got here, the door was kicked in, and the windows smashed.” I look past him, only now realizing the damage.
Then my fucking heart stops.
Mojo.
Pushing past Maddox, I run inside the house. A cop tries to stop me at the hallway, but I shove him down until I get to the living room.
There are two medics and a cop all hovering over my dog, who is sprawled out on his side, whimpering in pain.
“Is this your house?” one of the cops asks.
“Yes.” I kneel next to Mojo’s head, gently stroking his ear.
“Someone broke in and shot your dog,” the same guy tells me.
One of the EMTs is putting pressure on Mojo’s wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
“Where is your girlfriend?” the cop asks. “She might be in danger.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Do you know who this note could be about?” He points at the wall.
I look up and read the large black letters spray-painted on the wall.
Your bitch is next!
Fuck.
“Don’t let my dog die!” I yell at the EMTs as I jump up.
Maddox is standing in the doorway, reading the writing on the wall.
“Maddox, stay with Mojo, and get him to a vet. I’ve got to go.” I’m normally not the one giving orders, and the deep frown on his face tells me he doesn’t like this one bit. Still, I trust he is going to do this for me, whether he thinks I’m making a mistake or not.
The cop yells something after me while a second tries to stop me from leaving. I shove him to the ground, leaving him lying in the grass, and get into my truck.
With squealing tires, I take off, leaving my house behind in the review mirror and going back to the place I just came from. It’s a twenty-minute drive that only takes me ten minutes this time around.
