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I narrowed my eyes. “What is this? An interrogation?”
He chuckled. “I don’t give a fuck where you are or where you go. Just get your shit straight with Joker soon so I can stop worrying about the two of you going to war.”
Then he licked his blunt, stood, and walked into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
I stood there, debating waking Joker and spilling my guts. At least then, I could go and be with Tori without worrying, but I decided against it. I had somewhere to be, and Tori waited for me. I would need more time when I finally sat Joker down and told him everything.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, I pulled into Tori’s apartment complex and killed my engine. The usual parking lot squatters nodded at me as I passed before I went inside her building and took the stairs to her apartment. She opened the door before I could knock, and I pulled her into my arms, needing to feel her against me again.
We kissed, and I had to force myself to pull back. I wanted to take her to my special place, and I couldn’t do that if we ended up back in her bedroom, lost in each other.
“Ready?” I asked, smoothing some hair behind her ear.
Her cheeks flushed with happiness, and I felt like the most powerful man in the world, knowing I put that glow on her face. “As ready as I’m going to be.”
She had a small bag on her shoulder, and I took it so she didn’t have to carry it.
“Does Gracie know you’re leaving?”
“Yes. She’s going to a movie with friends tonight, but one of their dads is bringing her home afterward. She said he’d ensure she was safe and secure before he left. She’s supposed to text me once she’s here and the door is locked.”
I nodded, hating that she and Gracie lived in a dangerous place.
Soon.
I would ensure they were in a safer area one step at a time. Whatever I had to do to make it happen.
She locked up, and I took her hand as we descended the stairs. She looked cute in comfortable drawstring pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. When I helped her onto the back of my bike, her pants slipped down her hips and exposed an inch or two of skin, and I had to keep myself from kissing it.
Once she was on the back of my bike, I put her small bag inside my backpack and put it on her back. I got on with her, and once her arms were wrapped tightly around me, I cranked the engine and pushed up the kickstand. I revved my engine, loving how her hold tightened before I slowly backed out and pulled away from her building.
I drove, enjoying the feel of her behind me and watching the world blur past us as we left the city and started toward solitude. The roads weren’t busy, and the weather was perfect for a long motorcycle ride. She pressed the side of her face into my back, and I sighed in contentment.
We stopped for gas once before we made it to Tybee Island. We passed palm trees and colorful signs with sailboats and excursion information welcoming us to the island. The crisp smell of the ocean lingered in the air, and I breathed it in, loving the flow of beautiful memories it invoked.
Taking Tori to my favorite place meant something to me. She was a good thing in my life, and I wanted to share a piece of me I had never shared with anyone else. I could only hope it didn’t bite me in the ass if things went south. Anything was possible, and I knew better than most that good things typically ended badly.
My stomach growled, so we stopped at my favorite little eating shack, Huc-A-Poos, before going to South Beach. The place was famous for its pizza, and my mouth watered just thinking about the pineapple and cooked ham.
I pulled into the dirt parking area, and my eyes scanned the welcoming beach shacks I visited each time I came to Tybee.
“Thank God. I’m starving,” Tori said once I turned off the engine.
I helped her off the bike, and we held hands across the lot and up the steps to the wooden decked courtyard area. A bell jingled when I opened the door and held it for Tori to go in before me. Once inside, we were welcomed by the chaos that was Huck-A-Poos. Christmas lights were strung across the ceiling, covering a few surfboards attached to wall beams. There was a mixture of tables to sit at, but random couches and chairs were also all over the place.
Road signs hung on the walls and stuffed parrots perched on windowsills. The place was a blast—a mix of decor and colors that somehow worked. It was all very beachy, but the main reason I kept coming back was their fantastic food.
We sat at the bar instead of a table, and it wasn’t long before a familiar face beamed back at me.
“Well, look who’s here! It’s about time you showed your pretty face again,” Betty, my favorite server/bartender at Hucs, called out over the music.
Open mic night had started early with a few drunks who decided to take over the stage.
I grinned and leaned over the bar, kissing her on her aged cheek. She blushed and patted her graying hair before swatting at my arm bashfully.
“And who’s this?” she asked, nodding at Tori.
“This is Tori. Tori, this is Betty, the loudest mouth in the south.”
