Page 42 of Back in the Saddle

“You still could have told us about them,” Harlow pushed.

“Really?” I asked sharply. “Why? What’s the purpose of you knowing my parents are useless wastes of space, not only when it comes to parenthood, but all around?”

“Because we know and love you,” Harlow shot back.

“And what will that help?” I retorted.

Harlow’s head ticked with insult, so I dialed it back.

“I don’t mean it like that, Lolo,” I said quietly. “I mean, you guys are the good parts. You guys are the rewards after growing up like that, and then getting out of it. You guys are normal and caring and good. You guys are where I can be, and where I don’t have to be back with them, mentally or physically. So if I stay with you physically, that means I don’t have to go back to them mentally.”

Harlow’s face got soft with understanding.

Well…

Shoo!

Raye took us out of that, thankfully, by asking, “What did you just learn from those guys that came here?”

I turned to Raye. “What you heard. That’s it. They told me Jeff is a Street Warrior. And before you ask, I don’t know what that is. But obviously, I have to find out.”

They nodded and Luna turned to Raye, “I’ll call Jinx. Maybe she or one of the girls has heard of them.”

“Awesome,” Raye replied. “And tonight, maybe a run by Mr. Shithead’s place of business. We can bribe him with fresh porno mags and maybe he’s got some intel.”

“Good plan,” Luna said.

I knew they wouldn’t let me fight it, so I didn’t.

And if I was honest with myself, now that we were here, it felt all kinds of nice that they were so in to take my back.

But more, Jeff’s.

“Right. Now…Eric,” Harlow prompted.

Crap.

To buy time, I looked at Raye and asked, “Did you know NI and S investigated all of us and track our cars?”

Her eyes got big, and she answered, “Cap told me they did that to me, but…all of you?”

I nodded.

“No shit?” Luna asked.

“Oh, how sweet. They’re looking out for us,” Harlow cooed.

Blech.

“It’s incredibly invasive,” I noted.

“I can have a chat with him,” Raye said in a voice that told me what was coming next. And then it came. “But I don’t think it’ll make a difference. The last time they went through this, people were shot. Yes, plural. Shot at, and that’s plural too. Stella Gunn’s apartment was exploded by grenades?—”

“No shit?” Luna asked.

“None at all,” Raye answered, then she recommenced her litany of what befell the Rock Chicks. “There were a slew of kidnappings, at least one car bomb, several car chases, arson, stalkers?—”

“Stop,” I begged.

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