Page 35 of Deadly North

I realize that I don’t want to find out.

Still, I cannot stand to be in this clubhouse any longer. I don’t want to be here when he gets back. I could go back to Kat’s place, and I’m sure she’d put me up in their guest room. But I’m not in the mood to be around people right now. I don’t want to have to mask my emotions.

But I have another idea.

I go to Melissa’s apartment and ask her to make sure that Tedward has food and water while I’m gone. Then, I tell Reed I’m taking my bus on a drive.

Reed opts to follow me from behind on his bike instead of riding with me. I visit a bookstore, treating myself to a few new bestsellers I’ve heard good things about. I stop off at a grocery store to grab myself some prepared food for dinner. Then I drive over to my place, which is still not habitable, and park my bus in front of it in the street.

Reed gets off his bike and comes up to the bus. “What are we doing here?”

I jerk a thumb at the house. “This is where I live. They’re still renovating after the fire, so I’m going to sleep in the bus instead. There’s a fold-down bed in there, so I’ll be fine.” I shove a bag at him. “Here. Dinner. I didn’t know what you wanted to eat so I just guessed.”

Reed stares at me for a second considering. “Okay,” he says, taking the bag. “I’ll be over there.” He points to a tree in the front yard. Ambling over, he sits down under it and crosses his arms.

I have a moment’s worth of guilt that I’m about to make him sit out here all night, but I shove it down. It’s not my fault that the Bastards have appointed themselves my personal bodyguards. It’s not like I can tell him to leave, because we both know he won’t.

Climbing back into the bus, I have my dinner at my tiny table. Then I pull down the bed and find the pillow and blankets I have stowed in a compartment in the back. I settle in for the evening, with my cell phone and the books I bought for entertainment. But I must be extremely tired, because before long I fall dead asleep.

I’m jolted awake sometime later. When I open my eyes it’s completely dark inside the bus. Glancing through the window I see it’s the dead of night, and completely silent, so it must be late. I sit up and squint, trying to figure out what woke me up. A noise? I don’t remember anything, but something jarred me into consciousness.

Then I hear it again. A rustling, then a couple of thumps, followed by what sounds like… a man’s voice? Scrambling off the bed, I go to the back window and peer out.

And that’s when the door flies open and someone enters the bus.

Whipping around, I let out an involuntary shriek. The figure rushes toward me and grabs me. I scream as loudly as I can for Reed and struggle against the man, blinded by the darkness. I manage an elbow to his ribs, which earns me a roar and a hard fist upside my head that stuns me. For a second, I’m unable to move or think, but finally I wrench around in his arms. I try to angle myself so I’m facing him, but his arms go around me like a vise. Blindly, I flatten my open left hand and swing it toward his head, connecting solidly with his ear. The man lets out a scream of pain, letting go of me for a split-second. It’s all I need. I knee him hard in the groin, then scramble backward and grab a tattoo pen, ramming it into his back with all my strength. Roaring, the man flings a fist back and clocks me right in the face. I fall back against the edge of the fold-out bed, hitting my head. Somehow, my brain registers the cabinet next to me and what is in it. I yank open the bottom drawer and pull out the Beretta Nano I keep there. Now that it’s in my hand, I have a flash of panic about using it, but my survival instinct overrides it. “Get out!” I shout, and fire into the dark.

My assailant flies backward, though I don’t think I’ve hit him, and stumbles out of the door.

Lying on the floor, I listen to my rapid, panicked breathing, and try like hell to get a hold on my pain as I hear an engine start and then roar away. I don’t know how long I’m lying there, maybe half a minute or more. When I can finally pull myself up into a stand, I drag myself out of the bus, almost fall down the stairs, and rush outside to see Reed lying unconscious under the tree. I stumble toward him, calling his name.

But when I get there, I see it’s not Reed. It’s Mack.

“Mack!” I cry. Forgetting my pain, I sink down next to him, grabbing him by the shirt to shake him. He groans. My heart leaps to hear that he’s not dead. I start to chant his name, pulling him harder with one hand to try to get him up while my other goes around to the back of his head. Something wet makes contact with my hand, and I almost scream when I realize it’s blood. “Mack, wake up! Come on, talk to me!”

He groans again, panting a little. “G, thank fuck you’re okay…”

“What happened?” I urge. “Tell me!”

“I…” he leans over and vomits onto the grass.

“Shit!” Tears spring to my eyes, but I refuse to let myself fall apart right now. “Okay, come on, Mack. We need to get you into the bus. I’ll drive you to the clubhouse. Come on, help me lift you up.”

He groans again, but sits up and tries to get his legs under him. Somehow, we both manage to heave him up. When he’s standing upright, he bends over and retches again, but then he takes a deep breath and puts a heavy arm around my shoulders. Slowly, we make our way to the bus and he climbs up the stairs on all fours, collapsing heavily onto the floor.

“I’ll drive as carefully as I can,” I croon. “Hang tight. We’ll be there soon.”

18

MACK

“He’s likely got a concussion,” Wishbone says to Gigi, peering into my eyes with a small flashlight. “But his pupils aren’t dilated, and he’s not slurring his speech, so those are good signs.”

“Bone, I’m right fuckin’ here,” I grouse. “What’s with this ‘he’ shit?”

“Mack, be nice,” Gigi admonishes me.

“How’s your headache?” Wishbone asks, straightening.