Chapter 10 – Ethan
Ten
Ethan
I see this man's hand on Amanda's ass, notice her body tensing with fear and react without thinking. In seconds, I cross the small Cumberland Farms floorspace, grab him by the throat and toss him backwards into a shelf.
Amanda shrieks. "Ethan!"
I know. The cops. This is dangerous. But I don't give a shit. The guy hits his head on the way down and sputters, but he's a big 'un, so he brushes the snack packets away from his body and rises to his feet.
I want to look him in the eye before I kill him.
"Outside," I snarl at him.
"Ethan, THINK!" Amanda screams at me. She's a very observant woman. She notices my hand resting on my breast pocket, willing to put a bullet in this man if he so much as flinches in the wrong direction.
"Sir, I'll have to ask you to take this outside," the cashier says, reaching into her pocket for her phone.
We can't have footage of this. I pull my gun out and she screams so loud, flinching so hard in surprise that her phone goes flying and slides across the floor behind the counter. I point my gun at Mr. Hands and gesture towards the door.
He raises his hands in defeat and wisely obeys my instructions, walking towards the door. Amanda holds onto her snacks and follows me without an instruction. Good instincts on her.
Once we're outside, I conceal the gun as much as possible with my jacket. Mr. Hands keeps his eyes pointed right at the barrel.
"Which car?"
He points to a silver green Buick Enclave and I lead him towards the door.
"Get inside."
"Ethan, think. Prison..."
I glance over my shoulder at Amanda, who is pretty deep into her protein shake for someone concerned about prison...
"Guard the bike," I command her firmly. "I'll be fine."
The man looks at her pleadingly. "I didn't do anything. She'll tell you, man."
Amanda doesn't move. Does she really think her presence will stop me from killing this man?
"You touched her ass," I growl at her. "I saw you. Now you apologize to her, or I'll paint your windshield with your brain."
Amanda makes an uncomfortable grunt. The man has a wet spot on the front of his crotch already. Dick.
"I'm sorry," he blubbers. "I'm sorry. I didn't know she had a boyfriend. Just a little harmless flirting. I'm SORRY!"
I shove the gun back into my jacket. Relief floods the man's face. Too soon. I grab him again and shove him up against the Buick. He yelps, but that yelp turns into a downright scream as I force his shoulder out of the socket, dislocating it with ease as I shove him to the ground.
"YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T. FUCK! DICK! FUCK!!"
I kick him in the shoulder with as much force as I can from my boots. He turns red and the smell of piss and shit fills the air.
I turn my back on him, fixating my attention on the most important person to me right now. Amanda's face slackens with confused terror and likely a little shock at this type of violence considering her fancy, educated status.
"Bike," I snap at her. "Now."
She swallows and nods, unable to take her eyes off the man on the ground. I step between them and gesture towards the bike while the man howls. He'll be fine. Eventually.
We get to the bike and Amanda hands me a bag of peanuts.
"I thought you might get hungry."
Then, she hands me the Zyns and I look at her with confusion.
"That was your money."
"I thought you could use something."
"Hm."
I pop open the 6mg peppermint Zyns and put one in. I would argue with her more about daring to spoil me, but that bitch is still writhing and howling on the ground and I could use the relaxation.
"You can eat and ride," I tell her. "We should get out of here."
"You didn't have to do that."
"I did."
"Think she'll call the cops?"
"No. She reacted to my patches. He might be dumb enough to do it though. We should go."
Amanda gives me a quizzical look.
"You reacted without thinking."
"Did I lose therapy points?"
"That's not how it works."
I gesture to her helmet. "Bike. It's not a big deal. It's my job now. Keeping your ass out of trouble."
For the first time since I threw this woman over my shoulder, she doesn't even fight me. She sticks her snacks in my pockets for easy access and grabs the helmet herself.
If dislocating a few shoulders is all it takes to get some obedience around here, I really don't mind.
Amanda doesn't fuss, fight or grip my body hard enough to cause bruising for the rest of the drive into New York City. We don't have to go straight into Manhattan, but it's still a pain getting to the quiet neighborhood in Brooklyn where Magnum agreed to put us up.
Mom should be there already. She'll have to meet Amanda, but I won't let her get nosy and involved in the situation. Amanda is a slight liability, but she's my problem, not moms.
The address is 24 Emory Street and there's a space small enough to park a brand new Harley in a driveway alongside the house, which couldn't hold a car bigger than a Mini Cooper.
Amanda gets off the bike and stares around with the fresh-faced curiosity of a tourist. I hate cities. I don't care to make eye contact with any bums or civilians who might roam around nearby.
"Where's the Statue of Liberty?" she asks, genuine confusion registering on her face as she glances around at the brownstone homes and mid-rise apartment complexes.
"We're in Brooklyn."
Amanda shrugs. "I moved from Chicago straight to Boston. Never bothered with New York."
"My friend owns real estate all over the country. We can stay for a few days before his new tenants move in."
She sidles close to me and looks at the door to #24.
"You have fancy friends for a biker."
"Thanks..."
She sighs. "I don't think I've gone this many days without looking at my planner or schedule."
"We've only been gone one night."
"Exactly."
I won't apologize to her for saving her life. Planning and scheduling can wait until we're in the clear.
"Let's head in. My mom should be waiting for us already."
I walk forward, but Amanda doesn't match my step. I pause and face her.
"What is it?"
"Your mom?"
"You were listening in on my phone call. Yes, I have a mother."
"Everyone has a mother. I just didn't expect… Nevermind."
"Is that a therapeutic analysis?"
"It could become one," she says. "Will your dad be there too?"
"He's dead."
"I'm sorry." Her facial expression is genuinely anguished, but I don't want to linger on it. Truth is, dad went out the way he would have wanted. He would have hated rotting in a nursing home bed with some inexperienced CNA playing Candy Crush over him as he wheezed out his last breath.
Nope. Dad was all about guns and glory.
"Don't be."
I don't tell her that mom has cancer. That sympathetic expression on her face could quickly turn to doubt and the last thing you want with a woman is for her admiration to transform itself into doubt.
I ring the doorbell out of politeness and punch the keycode in. Magnum uses the same password for everything, and we've all known each other for so many years that any club member could guess their way into a Sinclair building complex.
I hear mom's footsteps on the other side of the door, but I open it first so I can have some control over this meeting with Amanda, who I neglected to mention on the phone. Mom walks down the hallway with her glasses perched on her head and her cellphone in hand.
"You made it!"
She wraps her arms around me in an embarrassingly unmasculine hug which puts Amanda right into her line of sight before I can do any prep work. Fuck. She gasps and lets go of me.
"Who is this beautiful young woman?"
"Mom!"
"I'm Dr. Yancey," Amanda says in a clear, fancy sounding voice. Mom looks at me and glares, taking Amanda's hand and shaking it. They both smile at each other in a way that instantly scares me.
I can never leave these women alone together. Never.
"That's enough." I pry them apart before that handshake turns into a hug. Women love hugging.
Mom swats my shoulder. "Little bear, don't be rude. How was your ride into the city?"
"Terrifying..." Amanda mutters.
"He's a horrible driver," she says. "I can't tell you how many crashes he's been in. Not just bikes. Four-wheelers. Snowmobiles."
"You told me–”
See? I knew this was a bad idea.
"Amanda, our bedroom will be on the left. Get settled."
"I don't have any luggage," she says.
"Maybe some coffee for you both?" Mom offers, with a scheming tone of voice.
"I'm fine," I growl.
"Okay. Amanda and I can hang out while you get settled..."
There is no way in hell I'm leaving these two women alone to discuss me. Not a fucking chance.
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