Chapter Nine #2
She’d changed into jeans, boots, and a black T-shirt. Simple. Practical. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and the bruise near her hairline had faded a little over the last few days, though I still noticed it every time.
I noticed everything about her now.
That was getting irritating.
Anchor swung onto his bike and pointed at all of us. “We’re going for a ride and coming straight back.”
Pearl climbed on behind him and patted his stomach. “Absolutely.”
“You’re lying.”
“Maybe.”
He shook his head and fired up the bike.
Prime started laughing as Shay got on behind him.
I handed McKayla her helmet. “You good?”
She pulled it on and nodded. “As long as nobody expects me to be graceful getting on.”
“Wasn’t expecting that.”
Her eyes narrowed behind the visor. “Rude.”
“Honest.”
She climbed on behind me and settled in easier than she had the first time. No hovering hands now. No awkward hesitation. Her arms slid around my waist like they belonged there.
I started my bike, the rumble moving through both of us, and felt her hands tighten slightly.
Anchor pulled out first, because of course he did. Prime followed, then I took up the rear with McKayla behind me.
The island road curved through the trees, past the haunted house sitting quiet in daylight, past the ticket booths and food stands that looked almost harmless when they weren’t lit up and crawling with tourists. A few guys working security lifted their chins as we passed.
I kept my eyes moving out of habit.
We crossed the bridge to the mainland, and the lake opened up on both sides, bright under the afternoon sun. The wind pushed against us, and McKayla’s body tucked closer to mine automatically.
Not because she was scared, but because she trusted the ride now.
The road stretched ahead in a smooth ribbon beyond the bridge. Anchor kept an easy pace, not too fast, not too slow, and for once there wasn’t a damn thing to do but ride.
No footage.
No bodies.
No screaming tourists.
No radios crackling with bad news.
Just engines, road, wind, and the woman behind me holding on.
We passed the edge of town and headed out toward farmland where the road widened and the trees gave way to open fields. Corn stood high on one side, green and thick beneath the sun, while pasture rolled out on the other side with a fence line cutting across it.
McKayla tapped my shoulder suddenly.
I glanced in the mirror.
She lifted one hand and pointed hard to the right.
I followed the direction and saw a small group of calves near the fence, all wobbly legs and big ears, one of them kicking sideways like it had just discovered its own body.
I laughed before I could stop it.
Baby cows.
The woman had spotted baby cows like we’d just passed a national landmark.
She tapped again, more insistently this time, like I might not understand the importance of the cow situation.
I reached back with one hand and patted her thigh.
Her fingers squeezed against my stomach, and even with the helmet on, I could feel her happiness. It was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. And somehow it made the whole damn ride better.
I let my hand rest there against her leg longer than I needed to. Longer than I should have.
The denim was warm from the sun, and her thigh fit beneath my palm like the rest of her had fit against me from the second she climbed on my bike. I should’ve moved my hand back to the handlebars. I didn’t. She didn’t move away either.
The road curved gently, and I guided the bike through it one-handed, her body following mine easily.
Behind us, the island and all its ghosts got smaller.
Ahead of us, the countryside opened wider, and for one stretch of road, McKayla wasn’t a missing sister’s desperate investigator, and I wasn’t a brother trying to keep a body count from climbing.
We were just two people on a bike on a nice day.
That should’ve felt wrong, instead, it felt like the first full breath I’d taken in weeks.
Anchor turned right at the next intersection, heading toward a smaller county road lined with trees. The ride slowed a little, and I finally moved my hand back to the grip, though McKayla’s arms tightened briefly like she’d noticed.
We rode for nearly forty minutes, looping along back roads where the pavement was smooth enough to let the bikes hum and the fields rolled out in every direction.
Shay pointed at something once, Pearl leaned into Anchor through every curve like she’d been born for the back of his bike, and McKayla kept finding things she apparently thought I needed to witness.
Horses.
An old barn painted red.
A tiny farm stand with a crooked sign that said SWEET CORN.
More cows.
The woman liked cows. Good to know.
When we finally looped back toward town, Anchor slowed at a stop sign. Straight ahead led toward the bridge back to Skull Island. Left led toward the ice cream place.
Pearl leaned around Anchor’s shoulder and pointed left.
Anchor’s head turned slightly. Even from behind, I could picture his face.
Annoyed.
Resigned.
Completely whipped.
A second later, his blinker flashed left.
I laughed under my breath.
McKayla leaned closer to my ear. “Are we stopping for ice cream?”
“Yeah.”
“But he said no stopping.”
“He also loves Pearl.”
“So we are stopping for ice cream because Pearl wants ice cream?”
“Yep.”
McKayla’s arms tightened around me, and I heard her laugh through the helmet. “I like her.”
“Most people do.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah.”
“She seems good for Anchor.”
I watched Anchor turn into the small ice cream shop parking lot ahead of us, Pearl already looking pleased with herself before he even cut the engine.
“She’s his weakness,” I said. “And his strength.”
McKayla went quiet behind me.
I pulled into the parking spot behind Prime and killed the engine.
For a second, McKayla didn’t move. Her arms stayed around me, her body warm against my back, the faint vibration of the ride still buzzing through both of us.
Then she slowly let go. I immediately missed the weight of her hands.
That was a damn problem.
She climbed off carefully and pulled her helmet free, her hair falling messy around her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed from the wind, and her eyes were brighter than they’d been in days.
I liked that too much.
Pearl hopped off Anchor’s bike and looked at him with wide innocent eyes. “Oh wow. Ice cream. How did we end up here?”
Anchor stared at her. “You pointed.”
“Did I?”
“You know you did.”
Prime chuckled while Shay practically skipped toward the small walk-up window.
McKayla leaned against my bike beside me. “You know, for dangerous bikers, you guys are very easily manipulated by pretty women.”
I looked down at her. “You saying you’re pretty?”
Her mouth opened, then shut. Then her cheeks turned just a little pinker. Well, damn, that was interesting.
“I was speaking generally,” she said.
“Sure.”
“I was.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That calm agreeing thing where you clearly don’t agree.”
I leaned slightly closer. “Would you rather I argue?”
Her eyes flicked to my mouth for half a second. “No,” she said finally. “Probably not.”
The air shifted between us.
A quiet awareness in the middle of the parking lot while Pearl argued with Anchor about sprinkles and Shay tried to convince Prime to get a cone bigger than his head.
McKayla cleared her throat and looked away first. “I’m getting ice cream.”
“Good plan.”
“I deserve it.”
“You do.”
She looked back at me quickly, like she hadn’t expected me to agree.
I held her gaze, because she did deserve it.
She deserved ice cream and a break and a sister who answered her phone. She deserved a hell of a lot more than being trapped in the middle of our nightmare.
But for now, I could give her this.
A ride.
A few baby cows.
Ice cream.
A few minutes where she got to smile without forcing it.
McKayla’s expression softened for one dangerous second before she turned and headed toward Pearl with her arm looped through Shay’s.
Prime stepped beside me and crossed his arms. “You’re staring.”
I didn’t look away. “No shit.”
He chuckled. “At least you’re honest about it now.”
“Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m starting.”
I finally looked at him. “You wanna keep your teeth?”
He grinned. “There he is.”
I shook my head and headed toward the window.
The girls were already deep in discussion about flavors, with Pearl insisting that ordering vanilla at a homemade ice cream place was a crime and McKayla arguing that vanilla was only boring if the person eating it lacked imagination.
Anchor looked like he wanted to be mad but couldn’t quite manage it.
Shay ordered something with chocolate, caramel, and enough whipped cream to make Prime raise both eyebrows.
I stood beside McKayla while she studied the menu like it was another investigation. “Need help?” I asked.
“This is a serious decision.”
“You found a guy in hours of footage, but ice cream is what takes you down?”
“Yes.”
“Good to know.”
She glanced at me. “What are you getting?”
“Chocolate.”
“Basic.”
“It works.”
“So do socks with sandals, but that doesn’t mean they’re right.”
Pearl gasped. “Exactly.”
Anchor groaned. “Don’t encourage her.”
McKayla smiled wide.
There it was. The whole reason I’d suggested the ride. Not that I’d admit that to anyone.
She finally ordered cookie dough in a waffle cone, then looked at me like I should be proud of her.
We got our ice cream and stood off to the side near the bikes, everyone eating in the sun like we were normal people doing a normal thing on a normal day.
We weren’t. But for a few minutes, it was close enough.
McKayla licked a drip before it ran down the cone and looked out at the road. “This was a good idea.”
I leaned against my bike beside her. “Yeah.”
“Don’t sound too excited.”
“I’m thrilled.”
“You sound like a hostage.”
I looked at her.
She looked back.
Then both of us laughed.
And for the first time in days, the sound of her laughing didn’t feel like something I had to earn.
It just happened.
Light.
Easy.
Dangerous.
Because the more she became comfortable beside me, the more I forgot she wasn’t mine to keep safe forever. And that was exactly the kind of thinking that got a man in trouble.