some other time,” he says. “Maybe I’ll tell you then. Maybe I won’t.”
“Tell me now,” I push.
“Do you want to know why I followed you when Pigpen asked me to?”
I want the answer to the other question more, but knowing he won’t give it to me, I nod. Any information is better than none.
“I followed you because evidently you have people in your life who are worried about you, and those people are connected to the club. I offered you a ride on my bike because from the moment I saw you interact with you dad at graduation, well….”
He shuts his mouth and somehow his not finishing the sentence makes me edgy. I try to trace through every interaction I had with my father and think of what he might have seen. I wince at the memory and absently rub my arm where Dad had grabbed me.
“I’ve been through anger,” Dust continues in a soft voice. Softer than I would have thought possible for a rough guy like him. “I’m helping you because no one else should be pushed to the point that I was, and I’m trying to help you figure out your problems without it having to go as south as it did for me.”
There’s a weird buzzing sensation in my head as I look into the eyes of a stranger, and see for the first time someone who understands the madness in my mind. “What’s going to happen to me?”
“That’s up to you, but first you need to know your options. So, let’s walk to the clubhouse, find your friend, and take this one step at a time. Until you decide your next move, I’ll stick around the clubhouse in case you decide you want to bail. I always feel better knowing I have an out.”
Relief shoots through me and I could hug him for his offer, for this gift. He’s not the only one who feels more secure knowing there’s a way to leave. That’s the only way I know how to survive.
Chapter 16
Eli
Pigpen and I sit on the picnic table Emily had been on earlier, and the two of us watch as Razor listens to his girlfriend, Breanna. They’re on the front porch, and her head and hands move as she speaks. Razor’s one hundred percent locked onto her every word, nodding occasionally, and his shoulders are squared like he’s ready to jump off the porch and throw the punch that will start a gang war. The kid’s quiet by nature, so the silence on his end isn’t unusual, but what hits my stomach is the intensity of his eyes. Evidently nothing she’s saying is good.
Breanna just spent thirty minutes inside Cyrus’s cabin with her friend Addison, and from the hopelessness on Breanna’s face, Addison didn’t leave because her father asked her to clean her room.
“If this is as bad as I think, Addison needs to leave her home.” There’s no joke to Pigpen now, and when he’s serious, my skin crawls with the sensation that death’s not too far behind.
“I know,” I say.
“We can call the county extension for domestic abuse,” he continues. “They’ll come get her and take her to a shelter, but I think us taking her out of town will be the better option.”
I know that, too. “She doesn’t trust us.”
“Mia didn’t know me, and she got on the back of my bike.”
“But Dust trusted us, and she only left town with you because he told her that you’d lay down your life to protect her.” Truer words have never been and will never be spoken. When Pigpen’s sworn to protect someone, no one could ask for a better guardian.
Breanna stops talking, and Razor pulls her in for a comforting hug, the type that offers strength and security. The type that hopes to hide how bad the situation really is.
Pigpen readjusts beside me. “I keep waiting for that kid to catch a break.”
“Razor’s only hurting because he cares. That’s not a bad thing.”
“No, but I want something to be easy for the kid. Maybe he could have two months without his heart being torn out.”
Pigpen watches Razor, and the guilt and the pain Pigpen keeps buried deep slips out into his expression. I can’t help but wonder if, in all these years, Pigpen’s had two hours without having his heart ripped out. “Razor’s pain isn’t your fault.”
Not at all interested in what I have to say, Pigpen leans forward, rest his arms on his thighs and rubs his hands together.