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“Yeah?” he snapped into the phone.
He sat and listened, his eyes moving over my face.
“Now?” he asked. “Shit,” he muttered to himself. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
He swiped at his screen, pulled out his wallet, and tossed a fifty on the table. No way did our food cost that much, which meant he was leaving one hell of a tip.
“We have to go,” he said, standing from the booth.
I followed him out, and he rushed us onto his bike.
“I don’t have time to take you back to Zada’s,” he said before he put his helmet on.
I nodded, understanding. I didn’t mind. I loved riding on his bike. It was the only dangerous thing I felt safe doing, and it gave me a sense of freedom.
We sped away, hitting the main road going much faster than any other vehicle around us. I held on tight, my fingers digging into his hard abs, and I tucked my helmeted head against his back.
He was leaning low, allowing the wind to roll over us instead of us cutting through it. My anxiety reared her ugly head, but I stomped her down. We were going faster than usual, but I knew Aiken would keep me safe.
I leaned with him when we took a sharp turn onto a side road, and soon we were pulling up in front of a rundown house. A pit bull was tied to the front porch, growling and barking toward us, and there was so much trash in the yard you could hardly see the spots of grass and dirt.
The screened door was barely hanging on, and there were several broken windows with cardboard pushed into the frame from the inside. My eyes surveyed the area around us, landing on the familiar bikes of Saint, Crow, and Joker. They were nowhere to be found, which meant they must have been inside.
Aiken got off his bike, removed his helmet, and set it on the seat in front of me.
“Don’t move from this bike,” he said, pointing at me with a look in his eyes that said not to argue.
I nodded, agreeing before he turned away and jogged toward the front porch and through the broken door. I sat on the back of his bike, jerking every time the massive, gray pit bull barked at me. I had no idea where we were, but it was apparent it wasn’t a safe area.
The sound of glass shattering echoed from inside before I heard a woman scream. It was still early, and yet there was so much going on already. I sat waiting when a black SUV drove by, turned around, and drove by once again.
My nerves and imagination were getting the best of me. All I could think about was the people in the SUV stopping and snatching me from the back of the bike. So, when they drove by the third time, I decided maybe moving closer to the front door of the house was a bit safer. After all, Aiken was inside.
I slid from the bike, careful not to knock it over, and I stepped around the trash in the front yard and toward the front porch. The pit bull growled at me, his teeth gnashing in my direction. I was sure the rope was the only thing keeping him from eating me alive.
I took the three broken concrete steps to the front porch and waited by the door for Aiken to come out. Again, the black SUV drove by, and this time I could see a guy in the passenger’s seat eying me. I breathed deep, trying to relax my nerves. The last thing I needed to do was have a massive panic attack in a strange place with no idea what was going on inside.
The panic attacks had slowed, and I had stopped carrying around my prescription for the last week or so. Maybe that was a bad idea considering I could feel the weight of anxiety pushing down on the top of my head. Reaching up, I twirled and twisted a single curl, pulling and tugging on it until my scalp burned.
It was coming, and I wasn’t sure I could stop it. I scanned the yard, starting my sensory steps, and trying to find five things I could see. Before I made it to three, another female scream sounded from inside, and I could no longer remain still.
Perhaps she needed help. I wasn’t going to be much help, but I couldn’t stand there and do nothing. Aiken was inside somewhere. I would be safe.
I pulled open the broken screened door and stepped inside. The smell of dogs, cat urine, and mildew filled my senses, making me cover my mouth and nose with my palm. The food I had just eaten at Waffle House threatened to come back up, but I swallowed and prayed it wouldn’t.
There was no one in the front room. There was a ripped couch covered in dog hair pushed against the wall. Across from the sofa, there was a flat-screen on the floor leaning against the opposite wall.
I followed the familiar sound of Joker’s voice down a long hallway until I reached an open door at the end of the hall. Peeking into the room, I gasped at what I saw. Joker was in the corner, his arms wrapped around a half-naked woman as he held her back. She screamed for them to stop, her eyes wild and her hair crazy.
Crow was beating the hell out of some guy on the floor. Saint was standing over them with his hands fisted at his sides. And then there was Aiken, who was standing over a guy sitting up on top of a stained mattress. He had a gun pressed against the guy’s temple, his eyes black, and his jaw tight.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, backing away and preparing to run.
“Shit,” Saint said, his eyes coming to mine.
Aiken looked up at me, his expression changing to one of sorrow before switching to anger. “I told you to stay put,” he barked.
I turned and fled back down the hallway without thinking. I ran through the living room and out the front door. The pit bull lost his mind, growling as he pulled against the thin rope holding him back.
