Page 40 of Property of Riptide
“So they make fun of each other instead, huh? Sounds like every man I’ve ever met,” I admit.
“Yep, showing emotions is icky to them,” she laughs. “Unless it’s with their woman, and even that is hit or miss.”
“Are you warning me, Issy?”
“No, Van, I’m preparing you,” she rebuts. “These men don’t use flowery words, they show how they feel instead of expressing it.”
“Riptide has already cautioned me about that. I know where I stand with him and that’s all that matters. Like I told him, actions speak louder than words do where I’m concerned.”
“You’re going to make him a damn good old lady, Van,” she praises. “I’m glad you found us and had the guts to come see us.”
“I was running on instinct and determination,” I confess as she leads me to the driver’s side of my car. “Thank you, Issy.”
“For what?” she asks.
“For accepting us, holding out a helping hand and making us feel welcome,” I say.
“You’ll always be welcome here, Van. You and little G both. You’re family now, and we never kick family to the curb. I just wish we had been able to give you glowing memories of Gage, but in the end, he redeemed himself in my eyes.”
“I’m still sore about it, Issy. And now that I’ve gotten to know you, I’m angry anytime I think about it. I hope his sister appreciates the sacrifices he made for her.”
“I don’t have answers on that aspect of things, Van. All I know is that he didn’t know about her until threats were made. He gave into their demands because he didn’t see any other way. I’m not excusing his behavior and choices, but I can understand them. I just wish he’d come to us, we would’ve helped him.”
“If only we could turn back time with the knowledge we have,” I ruminate. “I’d snatch him up by his ears and drag him to you myself.”
“We’re ready,” Riptide says, coming up behind me and wrapping me up in his arms. I lean against his chest and reach out for Issy. We grab hands and say a silent goodbye. “Take care, Issy.”
“You too, Rip,” Issy says, choking on her words. “I’ve asked Van to let us know when you get home. Safe travels.”
I get into my running car, because this is Texas and the temperature is on steroids so the air had to be on for my son. Even that makes me nervous because I worry that it won’t be cool enough while idling but I needed to let Issy and Rio know how much I appreciate their hospitality. It’d be rude of me not to. Riptide reaches in and across me, strapping me in. “Remember, Van, if you need to stop or anything else comes up, flash your lights at me and we’ll pull over.”
“Got it,” I tell him, smiling up at him.
Four hours later, I’m yelling at the true crime podcast I’m listening to. One of my favorite things to do when driving is catch up on the latest released ones. “Why?” I whine at my radio. “Go the other way, lady! Don’t walk toward the noise coming from your closet, you nitwit! Haven’t you watched every horror movie ever released? You haul ass the other way, preferably with a butcher knife in hand.” But does she hear me shouting my protests over the airway? Hell no, she keeps creeping toward that closet. What is wrong with people? We learn about stranger danger and self-preservation as children, but for some damnreason, the older we get, the more we forget all of those lessons we were taught.
Right as they’re about to get to the part where she finds out who or what was hiding behind those doors, my phone rings, interrupting the program. When I see ‘Riptide’ flash across the screen of my car, I decide pausing it to hear his voice isn’t a bad thing.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Darlin’, Indiana and I are going to branch off and head to the back, I need you and Zoey to keep driving no matter what you hear. Do not stop for anything.” Cold chills race up and down my spine, it isn’t what he wants me to do that has me feeling that icy sensation—it’s the detached urgency in his tone that has my teeth chattering.
“Okay,” I drawl out. “Everything alright?”
“I’m sure it is, but Icer says we have a tail so Indie and I are going to give him another set of eyes,” he states.
“Oh shit,” I mumble, gulping because my mouth has gone dry and I feel dehydrated. “Be safe, Riptide.”
“Always am, baby.” I’ve heard that from him before and he kept his word so I’m not going to let my internal freak out cause him any friction. He disconnects the line and my show picks up where it left off, only this time, I’m not as into it as I was before. As he and Indiana veer off and turn their motorcycles around, I press my foot down on the accelerator as far as it’ll go to the floorboard and pick up speed. I should be nervous the further my speedometer raises, but I’m letting my instincts take over. As the endless interstate whizzes past me, and I see nothing but deadland out my side windows, I know that we’re on our own.There will be no squad coming to our rescue—I haven’t seen any cops or passerby’s the entire drive. It’s as if this stretch of the highway has been ghosted.
I glance up at my rearview mirror and see Zoey keeping up. Then I hear the pop, pop, pop of what sounds like fireworks being shot off but I know that’s not what it is.
It’s gunfire!
“Oh, God. Oh God, oh, God, oh God,” I chant, my eyes tear filled. Suddenly, this high rate of speed I’m traveling at doesn’t seem so frightening.
Tires squealing join the orchestra of sounds coming from behind us. Then I hear metal clashing and that internal freak out I was keeping a tight control of leaps out of me and I scream.
“Please!” I scream to the universe. “Don’t let my guys be the ones who got hurt.”
