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“If she is hurt, we will need to figure out how to help her. Too many people can create an overwhelming situation. Honestly, it can make the situation worse than it already is. Do you want to frighten her more than she might already be?” They mumble to themselves, not replying to my questions but also not protesting anymore. “We need to be able to protect her and ourselves without putting your lives at risk.” The girls finally seem to digress as they sit at the counter of the bar. Unlocking my phone, I note that the dot hasn’t moved at all.
“We need to go,” I call, ready to run out of the place and start on foot to her. Massimo kisses Sofia’s hair and peels himself away from her.
Loading back into the SUV, the driver takes off toward where I pulled her location. It says it’s a thirty-minute drive, but with the way he is driving, it should only take about twenty.
“Sof said something interesting,” Massimo starts, looking up from his phone. He opens his mouth a few times before closing it, obviously struggling with what he is trying to say.
“Spit it out,” I demand softly. He swallows thickly and looks as though he regrets saying anything to begin with.
“The girls think Birdie is pregnant.”
Time seems to slow even more after that simple word. Ringing takes over my ears as I struggle to wrap my head around it.
Pregnant.
“What?” I whisper and squint to watch his lips.
“Pregnant.” I don’t hear him say it with the pressure building in my head, but it’s clear that’s the word he is forming on his lips. Words don’t come to me at that moment. I’m struck in literal silence, unable to wrap my mind around it.
“How?” I mutter. Leaning forward, I drop my head into my hands and try to calculate everything in my head. It’s a rhetorical question which he knows, so he lets me sit with the thoughts whirling in my brain. “Shit.” I mean, we were sort of leaving it up to fate, really. If it happened, great. If not, we could always keep trying.
That would explain the extreme reaction, though. She is already not feeling like herself then add the shitty photo she must have gotten…that’s a rotten fucking equation. My phone is proof that she tried to call me. She tried. Now we’re adding fuel to the fire with her stranded in fuck knows where.
“Hey.” A hand lands swiftly on my shoulder shaking me out of my darkening thoughts. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. There was nothing you could have done to prevent this.”
“I could have answered my phone,” I croak through the thick lump sitting in my throat. “There is so much I could have done to prevent this.”
“It’s the past. Is there anything we can do about it?” Shaking my head, I pinch my eyes closed harder to get the images of what I could possibly be going into out of my head. “We need to prepare for the worst case scenario, man.”
“How far are we?” I ask. Sitting up, I lean my head back on the head rest and close my eyes.
“Five minutes, sirs,” the driver calls from the front. The only acknowledgment I give is a silent nod. I can’t tell if it’s the anticipation of seeing Birdie possibly mangled all to pieces or what, but my heart sits directly in my throat as we drive in complete silence. My brain comes to several different conclusions.
She is wrapped around a tree somewhere in a ravine. The car is wrapped around a tree, pierced through it, and she is stuck inside. There is a possibility that the car is flipped over and a tree is stuck through the middle of it, the metal grinding could probably scare—
“We’re here, I believe,” the driver calls back. I yank the car door open, hopping out and looking around for her or the car. It doesn’t take long for me to notice red and yellow flames pillowing from between the trees. I take off towards it.
“Scout, wait!” Someone screams after me. I refuse to listen. Birdie is in there. I slide down the side of the hill, trying and failing, to stay upright. My foot catches on a protruding root and I tumble. I land harshly right in front of the smoking vehicle.
“Birdie!” I shout, standing on shaky legs and looking inside the broken windows. Strands of blonde hair sit on the shards of glass on the other side, but at least I can see her..
“Scout,” she mumbles, her voice hoarse and scratchy, most likely from breathing in the smoke.
“I’m here, baby,” I coo, brushing my hand over her hair and pressing my palm into the cut on her head to stop the bleeding. She groans against the pressure and raises a hand to push me away, yet it falls back down after only being raised a few inches.
The cocking of a gun echoes behind me before something is shoved into the back of my head. I freeze.
“Now, now, pretty boy,” a guy taunts, shoving me forward into the upturned car. My stomach sinks more as the smoke in the hood starts billowing faster and thicker. “You touched mine; I touch yours.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask calmly, not wanting to raise his hackles any further. He and I are both already on edge, there is no doubt he would pull the trigger at the slightest move. That doesn’t mean I’m just going to take it lying down. Gun shots ring out from above us, and the guy behind me laughs.
“Sounds like they are getting taken care of. Maybe you’ll think not to touch something that doesn’t belong to you.”
“I have no clue what you’re even talking about,” I retort, trying to wrack my brain with clues. Nothing comes up, and I’m left frozen with Birdie trapped in a car that looks about ready to combust.
“You’re part of his crew. If he didn’t fuck us over, I wouldn’t be here enacting revenge.” His tone gets colder by the second, though he must realize my continued confusion with my silence. “What about you kissing my wife?” He shouts as he slams the butt of the gun against my head. Hissing with pain, I quickly shove my hand into my waistband and pull out my own gun. Pointing it directly at him, we remain at a standoff. His face is visibly red, his hand shaking. His head is muddied, which I can use to my advantage.
“She kissed me! I didn’t want her then and I certainly don’t want her now!” I shout in defense, still attempting to get everything else he said to comprehend. “I’m not a part of anyone’s crew. I’m just a fighter!” That part may be a small lie, but it’s not far from the truth. I do fight, it just usually ends with my anger faded and another demon sent back to hell.
