so he can look at me.
“Yes, perfect,” I say and squeeze closer to him.
“I think she’s in some kind of shock,” he tells his friend who’s now standing beside us. “She shot a guy back there.”
“Fuck, I thought I heard a shot,” the friend says. “I just hoped I was wrong. What are you gonna do with her? You can’t bring her back to the bunker, you do know that?”
“I knew it going in,” Colt says testily, trying to pry open my arms so he can look at me, but I’m content to just let them keep talking. I don’t need to be a part of this conversation.
“Shit, you sure she’s not on something?” Colt’s friend asks. “That’s the last thing we need.”
“It’s just shock,” Colt says, but he somehow doesn’t sound very sure. Smart guy. This fogginess in my brain could very well be the madness I’m sure I’ve inherited from my mom rearing its ugly head in me. She was all dreamy and lethargic in the beginning, that’s how it’s started. I need to pull myself together. Right now. Right the fuck now.
“Remember how I was the first time I killed a guy?” he adds. “I still don’t want to think of that. It’s hard.”
“This is so messed up, Colt. How many guys did you kill back there?”
“Three,” Colt says. “And the third one would’ve gotten me if she hadn’t shot me. She basically saved my life. Let’s find a motel for her. She’ll be fine in the morning.”
“And then what?”
Right the fuck now. Get it together, Brenda.
“I’m fine,” I say, my voice so weak I barely hear it. “I got money for a bus ticket out of this place.”
“It’s like 2 AM,” the friend says. “I bet there’s no buses going in and out of this sorry ass town.”
I start shivering harder. He didn’t even say it harshly, but it just yanked the little bit of reality I’d managed to get a grip on right out of my grasp again.
“You go on back to the bunker, Blaze,” Colt says. “Tell Ace what happened and that I’ll be back tomorrow morning. I gotta get her to a bed.”
“You’re such a dog,” Blaze scoffs, but it was a poor attempt at mockery. He sounded way too concerned and kinda scared.
“I got this, don’t worry about it,” Colt says, and I like how sure he sounds. At least one of the three of us sounds like he’s got it together.
“If you’re sure,” Blaze says, doubt thick in his voice.
“I’m sure,” Colt replies.
Then his friend is walking away and Colt is telling me to hang on. What else am I gonna do? Good thing it’s also the only thing I want to do.
The next thing I’m aware of is sitting on the back of his bike alone, not shivering, and not quite awake. We’re in a parking lot of a roadside motel, the place quiet, dark, and almost empty. A silver station wagon is parked right next to me, there’s a beat-up dark pickup truck a ways away and a couple of bikes. But all the windows of the motel are dark. Most of the only illumination is coming from the reception booth, where I see Colt through the huge windows getting a room.
Sleep sounds like a good idea. A very good idea. I hope he hurries up.
“You feel better?” he asks as he exits the reception and walks back to me.
“Yeah, I think so,” I say, wrapping my jacket tighter around my body because I think I’m about to start shivering again. My voice is still very frail and wispy.
“Room 6,” he says, showing me the key. “This place looks all right. For a night at least.”
“Yeah,” I say, and it’s all I can say.
We ride to the room, he parks right by the door, then helps me off his bike like a perfect gentleman. I honestly can’t remember the last time a guy was this thoughtful with me. This caring. This concerned. Maybe it hasn’t happened since my dad died. But I hold my own. I don’t really need a guy to take care of me. Still, it’s so good to have his arm around me leading me to the door, as I lean against him.
The room smells musky and disused, bleach the strongest aroma in the room. It’s practically a palace room compared to my bedroom at the Sinners’ clubhouse.
I should shower. I really need it. But by the time we stop at the side of the bed,