Blitz (Blast Brothers #3) - Sabrina Stark Page 0,95
said, flicking his head toward the passenger's seat. "I've got your sister."
Chapter 63
Mina
With my heart in my throat, I lowered my head to peer into the passenger's seat. And there she was, Natalie, looking as queasy as I'd ever seen her.
I felt the blood drain from my face. "Oh, no. Is she sick?" Softly, I called out, "Natalie? Are you okay?"
Her eyes opened, and with a weak laugh, she groaned, "Don't ask."
Oh, I'd be asking.
And judging from the sounds of footsteps behind me, I wouldn't be the only one. Sure enough, I turned to see not just my dad, but also my mom, stalking down the front porch.
In his hand, my dad was holding a hammer of all things. As for my mom, she looked nearly as queasy as Natalie as she scrambled to keep up.
I called out, "It's fine. He's just dropping off Natalie."
This was a massive understatement, but really, what else could I say? I still had no idea what had happened, but I was determined to find out.
A half-hour later, we had the whole story – or at least Natalie's version of the story, considering that Chase had stayed only long enough to help Natalie out of his car.
And even that little episode hadn't lasted last terribly long, considering that my parents had rushed over to assist Natalie on their own. And then, almost before I knew what was happening, Chase was already backing out of the driveway without so much as a wave goodbye.
Now, at the kitchen table, Natalie was saying, "I didn't even see her coming."
Her. She meant the woman who'd jumped her.
Natalie was waitressing at a popular bar located right downtown. Tonight, she'd been waiting on a trio of rough customers – one woman and two men – when their own drunkenness had caused the bartender to cut them off.
The trio hadn't taken this lightly. Even worse, they'd blamed Natalie, because she'd been messenger of the unhappy news. When they'd gotten rude and abusive, they'd been tossed out on their asses – not by Natalie, but by a couple of bouncers.
This was near closing time, and Natalie had figured this was the end of it.
No such luck.
Apparently, they'd waited near the back entrance and followed Natalie out to her car – or rather out to my car – where the woman had jumped Natalie from behind.
According to Natalie, the woman was big, bulky, and very persistent.
Plus, she'd had the element of surprise, considering that Natalie hadn't spotted the woman – or her two male companions – as they followed after her.
But apparently, Chase had.
The woman had barely jumped Natalie, when Chase had emerged from the shadows to yank the woman away. For his trouble, he'd been rewarded with a two-on-one fight with the woman's male companions.
Now, at the kitchen table, Natalie said, "I still don't know where he came from."
I reached out and squeezed her hand. "You mean Chase?"
"Yeah, I thought I was alone." With a shaky laugh, she added, "Well, except for the three drunks." She blinked away unshed tears. "If he hadn't come along when he did…" She let the words trail off as the rest of us exchanged worried looks.
Finally, it was my dad who broke the silence. "It's the middle of the night. Why the hell were you walking out there alone?"
My mom spoke up. "Bob, come on. Let's save it for the morning, alright?"
But at the table, Natalie gave a weak laugh. "Want to hear something funny?"
"What?" I asked.
"Chase said almost exactly the same thing."
I paused. "Really?"
She nodded. "Oh, yeah. We're at your car, right? And after the three of them run off, he turns to me and asks if I'm okay. And when I tell him that I'm fine, he says, 'Well, you need to be more careful, because you won't be so lucky the next time.'"
On the other side of the table, my dad muttered, "Got that right."
Natalie continued, "And then he asks, 'What the hell were you thinking, walking so late by yourself?'" Natalie gave a shaky laugh. "He sounded almost exactly like Dad."
My dad grumbled, "Well at least the guy has some sense."
I felt my eyes grow misty. Chase had more than sense. He had guts, too. According to Natalie, he hadn't hesitated to defend her, even when he was outnumbered two to one – or three to one, considering that it was the drunken woman who gave him the fat lip.