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“Have I told my father I have an interview for a job in Atlanta? Nope.”
Oh, great. Now I’m probably going to get to be the messenger who will definitely be killed when Isaac finds out she’s leaving not only town but the state. “Are you going to tell him, or do I have to be the one to break the bad news?” I ask.
She whips around to face me with a scowl. “He doesn’t need to know about my interview.”
“Right. He wants to know your every move day and night, but he won’t care that you’re driving states away for an interview. You know I have to come with you, right?”
“Fine,” she huffs. “I’ll try and tell him tonight. And I’ll try to get you out of it.”
“Good luck. Isaac has been on edge when it comes to you lately. We think he doesn’t want to lose you so soon after having Laurel get married and move out.”
“We?”
“Some of the guys in the club.”
“So all the bikers are talking about how nuts my dad is behind his back? Glad it’s not just me.”
“We would never call Isaac nuts. We’ve just noticed that he’s being a little…overprotective of you lately and nearly dragged us into a war with the Savage Kings because of it.”
“No kidding.”
“So, where to next?” I ask to change the subject from the Kings. I’ve abided by RJ’s insistence that I stay away. Not that it’s been easy. But since all I’ve done is sleep and babysit Lyla for the past week, I haven’t had time to even ride past his auto shop like a creepy stalker.
“Ah,” Lyla begins as she glances around the outdoor shopping center to see if we’ve missed any of the many, many stores.
When she doesn’t stay anything, I try again. “Lyla? Where are we headed?”
“I-I don’t know yet,” she stammers. “And, okay, so maybe this makes me sound crazy, but there’s a guy behind us, and he looks like the same weirdo who was at Laurel’s wedding.”
“Okay. So?”
“So, he’s creepy! Who wears a hoodie to a wedding?”
“A hoodie? Why do you think someone wearing a hoodie is creepy? Doesn’t everyone wear one now and then?”
“I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not his attire. I guess it’s the vibe I’m getting from him. Please just stay close, okay?”
“You must be worried if you want me closer,” I remark before leaning in so that our shoulders rub as we walk down the sidewalk.
“I said close, not closer,” she grumbles before pushing me away. “And forget the power suit. Let’s just get the hell out of here.”
“Parking lot?” I ask.
“Yes. I’m ready to go home.”
Okay, so I’m not convinced the dude in the hoodie is an actual threat, but I should probably tell Isaac about him tonight.
We’ve just stepped onto the pavement when I hear an all-too-familiarpop-pop-popof gunfire. Suddenly, I’m dropping to my knees, pain shooting through them before I can blink. There’s a searing heat in my right side. And when I look down, there’s a river of blood flowing out of my shirt. Instinctively, I press my hand over it while trying to catch my suddenly shaky breath.
“Oh my god!” Lyla screams. Bags go flying, and she appears in front of me.
Crap. I guess Lyla was right about that guy. He just fucking shot me!
Her image is growing hazy. And speaking is more difficult than usual. Just taking a breath makes the pain in my side hurt even worse. Within seconds, I’m in agony, and my fingers are soaking wet.
Holy shit, I’m bleeding a ton.
I’m going to die either from the gunshot wound or… “Your father…is gonna kill me,” I manage to whisper through clenched teeth.
