Page 9 of Stone Deep
I climbed out of bed and pulled on my jeans and shirt. Ipicked up my shoes. There was a piece of paper inside one of them. I pulled it out. It was a coupon for another night in the room. There was writing on the back. “I’m really bad at saying good-bye. I hope those scars heal completely one day. XO Britton. PS. if I ever find my magic fairy dust, I’ll be sure to send some your way.”
I reread the note three times before folding it and putting it into my pocket. I fished out my phone as I walked out the door. The grumpy motel manager scowled at me before stomping back into his office. I dialed Hunter.
“What?”
“Good morning to you too, ass. I’m stuck near the highway right off the Tatter Lane exit.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, his mouth full with something, “good for you. What do you want from me?”
“A ride would be nice. My keys are on my dresser.”
“Fuck, Slade, I’ve got shit to do.”
“Then send Street. Tell her I’ll wait by the onramp near the bus bench with the creepy looking realtor picture.”
“I’ll come get you, but it’s gonna cost you a twelve pack.”
I hung up and headed toward the bench. My mind rolled back to the night before and the petite cutie with the slightly hoarse and extremely sexy voice. Pretty much everything about her was hot. It was definitely a motel room hook-up I wouldn’t soon forget. I couldn’t get rid of the disappointing feeling that kept inching into my gut knowing that I wasn’t ever going to see her again. It seemed she had a lot of shit going on in her life. Hopefully, she’d find a way out of it all.
I sat on the bench. The morning sun was starting to burn off the layer of coastal fog. It would be another warm summer day. I’d planned to wake up and head out for some bodysurfing, but that idea had been quashed by my over sleeping in the dingy motel room. The water and sand would already be too crowded for a decent morning of waves. The offshore breeze that came with the afternoon temperatures usually made the swells choppy and flat.
I glanced at my phone. The batteries were nearly dead. Cleveland had sent a text last night. “The bar owner called the cops to check out the gun the girl dropped. Turned out to be a real looking toy gun. Where did you end up?”
I didn’t have enough juice in my phone to text back, so I stuck it in my pocket, leaned back against the creepy realtor’s smiling face and closed my eyes. If I knew my brother, he’d take his sweet fucking time. Thinking about the girl and the almond shaped brown eyes that took up half of her face, my mind melted into a sleepy, satisfied state. With the sun to warm me and the traffic at this particular onramp being almost nonexistent, I was close to dozing off when screeching tires startled me awake. The faded gray cargo van pulled up directly in front of the bench. It took me a second to get my bearings. In the distance, I saw my own car rambling toward me. I stood from the bench just as the van door slid open.
Two of the guys from the bar lunged out of the van. They’d caught me by surprise, and before I could dive out of the way, they grabbed me and shoved me headfirst into the van. I swung around, and my fist hit one solidly on the jaw. They hadn’t had time to shut the sliding door before the driver screeched off. The motion sent me backward, and my head smacked the wall of the van. I jumped up,deciding I needed to leap from the vehicle before we hit the highway. As I sprang forward, a horrible stabbing pain shot through my side.
“That was for coming into our fucking bar last night,” the guy with the knife growled.
My hand pressed against my side. Blood seeped between my fingers. The shock at knowing I’d been stabbed stunned me at first, but when I saw his big knuckles and the blade coming at me again, I shot up from my crouch and jumped through the open door. I pulled my body tight and rolled as I hit the hard dirt lining the road. The impact knocked my shoulder out of whack, but I could hardly feel it over the searing hot gash in my side. Road grit stuck to the blood that was soaking my jeans and shirt. My body was writhing with pain and an angry voice in my head was asking ‘Is this it? Am I finished with this life?’
A cloud of dust kicked up, and I heard more tires screech behind me. “Slade!” Hunter yelled.
I pushed to sitting and struggled to get to my feet. Hunter had the phone to his ear as he ran toward me. Just as I got my feet under me, my head spun and I collapsed.
Hunter caught me before my ass hit the dirt. “I’ve got you.” He lowered me slowly to the ground. He yanked off his shirt, balled it up and pressed it against the knife wound.
In the haze, I saw a few more faces leaning over us. “I just gave the highway patrol a description of the van,” a man said to Hunter.
“Thanks.” Hunter’s free arm went around my shoulder, reminding me of when we were kids hiding in my closet trying to avoid our drunken old man. Sometimes, when we had been really scared, Hunter would put his arm aroundme to stop the shaking.
Every movement hurt. “Fuck.” I felt my body and mind weakening from blood loss, pain and shock. “Do you think I’m going to die? Not a great ending just bleeding to death out on the fucking onramp.”
Hunter pressed his hand harder against the blood flow. My side had grown numb. “Don’t you even fucking think about it, Slade. Do you hear me? Just hold it together until we get you to the hospital.”
Sirens sounded in the distance. I rested my head against his shoulder. “Fuck,” I repeated. I looked down at the blood soaked shirt he held against my side. “Guess I’m going to owe you a twelve pack and a shirt now.” I could feel consciousness drifting out of reach.
“The ambulance is here, so hang on, buddy.” Hunter’s voice sounded different, less confident, less strong as it floated through the fog in my head. He reached up and rubbed my head. “Hope she was fucking worth it, dude.”
A fleeting image of the girl went through my mind. “She looked like fucking Tinkerbell. And yeah, she was worth it.”
SIX
BRITTON
In my attempt to slip by Nina’s cubby without her seeing me, I’d taken the extra long route through the employee lunchroom and out the far door. But, it seemed, nothing short of an invisibility cloak was going to do the trick.
“Brit, wait,” Nina squealed.
