I had no doubt he’d make good on the threat. Bat in hand, I jumped down the side of the car farther from him and backed away.
“You have your girlfriend to thank for this,” Lonny said, tossing a clear bag of pills between Reece’s knees. Reece swayed, slick with blood and sweat, red drops spattering against the plastic.
Lonny’s gaze was heavy on me as he angled into his car. “I won’t forget this, Boswell.”
The Lexus ghosted out of Sunny View. I tossed the bat and dropped to the ground beside Reece, afraid to touch him. He cradled his ribs, each breath harsh and shallow.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He spit blood in the dirt, then snatched up the bag and jammed it in his pocket. “He could have killed you!”
“What the hell was I thinking? What the hell were you thinking? Look at you!”
An angry gash split his lip and dripped off the end of his chin, and blood trickled from his left eyebrow. He was caked in dirt and blood, but he’d been lucky. Oleksa had been righthanded, sparing Reece’s piercings. “We need to get you to a hospital. Can you stand?”
“No! I can’t go to a hospital. They’ll call the cops.” His face contorted in pain as he tried to straighten himself. “I’m fine. Just help me up.”
Reece wrapped his left arm around his ribs. I grabbed his right, and together we eased him to his feet. Groaning, he maneuvered himself out of his jacket and peeled his T-shirt over his head. Angry black bruises were blooming over his ribs.
I watched, helpless, as he balled up the shirt, then pressed it to his head to staunch the bleeding. With labored breaths, he worked his arms back into his jacket and eased himself onto the bike.
“Come on.” The order rasped in his throat as he released the kickstand.
He could go to hell. I kicked through the tall grass, snatching my bat off the ground. “I’m going home.”
“Leigh, wait!” The kickstand snapped back into place and I heard his boots behind me.
I kept walking.
“Leigh! I’m sorry.” His apology echoed off the trailers. “You can’t go home. You shouldn’t be there alone tonight. It’s not safe.”
I swung around. His blood was streaked across my hoodie and my hands. “I can take care of myself !”
He looked at me—really looked at me—for the first time. And I wanted him to. I wanted him to understand what I had been ready to sacrifice, though I wasn’t sure why.
He blinked away blood and wiped his eyes with his balledup shirt. “You didn’t have to get involved. Haven’t you ever heard of a cell phone?”
“I don’t have one!”
“Well, you should. What if something happened to you? You’d be a lot safer carrying a cell phone . . .” He gestured to the bat I still gripped.
My vision blurred with angry tears. “Next time I won’t bother!” The adrenaline slipped away, leaving me raw and cold all over.
He let out a long, tired breath. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I should have said thank you. Now will you please put down the bat and come with me?” He held a hand out, waiting.
I let the bat fall to the ground and looked down at my fingers. At the blood under my nails. My hands were shaking, and I stared at them, half expecting them to crumble. Reece grabbed the front of my hoodie and pulled me to him.
“I need . . .” He looked in my eyes with a raw and tangled expression. Then he pulled away and it was gone. He cleared his throat. “I need you to hold this while I drive.” He pressed the crumpled bloody T-shirt into my palm.
I looked toward home, down the rows of metal boxes with dead bolts and security lights that never felt like enough. I didn’t want to be alone.
I straddled the bike, legs unsteady. He reached behind and took my sleeve, lifting my hand to his wound. I wrapped the other around his chest, tucking my hands inside my sleeves to keep from touching the bare, hot skin under his jacket.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To see a friend. And then I’ll take you home.”
17
Reece knocked on the door of a rattrap row house. I drew my hoodie tighter around me. The sounds of this neighborhood weren’t too different from my own; thumping subwoofers of an old beater with its windows down, neighbors yelling and glass breaking next door, dogs barking. Familiar sounds aren’t always comforting.
Reece banged again, harder this time. Someone rustled behind the peephole.
“Gena, it’s Reece. I brought a friend.” The slide chain and dead bolts were already in motion.