Page 20 of Violent Skies

“Get it running, we’re taking it with us,” he says, jogging toward the door of the garage that leads into the house. “Hurry.”

“Koa!” I call out to him but he’s gone into the darkness. I stick my hand into the junk, making sure that everything vital is connected. I check the oil quickly and it’s clean, full, and recently changed. Alright. I look around frantically. Hotwiring a car like this isn’t hard, but it’s confusing and I could fuck it up. This is Koa’s area of expertise, but my eyes land on the tools and I smile like an idiot. Hanging on the peg board against the back wall is a set of original keys. I grab them and slide into the driver's seat, whispering a quick prayer before pushing the keys into the ignition. When the Cuda rattles to life it’s a miracle.

I climb out and run around to check the tires before doing another once over under the hood as Koa clambers back into the garage, shoving some things into his pockets.

“It lives!” He claps loudly and runs his eyes over it. “Here.” He chucks the keys to the Mercedes at me without taking his gaze off the Cuda. I catch them, a little pissed off that he’s just taking the car, but I swallow it and walk toward the driver's door. “Take that to Westfall and get your ass home. Birdie’s going to flip when she sees this thing.”

I nod, the resentment stirring violently.

“Take the back roads, it’s going to be loud and you don’t want to draw attention,” I warn him, but he brushes me off as he climbs inside.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Riggs.” He revs the engine with a smile on his face and peels out of the garage the second I hit the opener for him.

PRESENT DAY

“Fuck,” I groan, making the mistake of palming my chest in a sleepy grip as I stretch awake. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck as I roll out of bed. The bruises on my chest are deep purple, staining my tattooed skin with hints of red where blood blisters beneath the surface. Everything is on fire and every single move I make burns through me. I reach for my phone, checking the time. Even half dead my body wakes me up before the sun. Standing I give my muscles a chance to adjust to the damage that’s been inflicted on them.

I can’t be bothered with a shirt but I grab the grey zip up on my chair and gingerly pull it over my sore skin as I walk toward the open door. I pause seeing her sitting on the couch eating a piece of toast and just take the moment of peace to remind myself of who she is, to this family. To Koa… To me.

Her hair is pulled up into a messy bun and it shows off the chain that holds the necklace Koa stole that night. An oval ring of diamonds that Cress didn’t even question when he gave it to her. I grind my teeth together, I can still hear her excitement over it. I drove across the city, dropping off the Mercedes only to get sent back out for more because it didn’t matter how much it was worth. We owed Westfall two cars that night.

The Cuda, even in rough shape, would have covered it but Koa took it back to the garage, to Birdie. Who was even more excited about the old muscle car than Cress was her necklace. His girls, his family, his garage.

I groan, trying to stay quiet but she turns to look at me with a serious look on her face as her eyes scan over my practically naked torso.

“You lived,” she says after she finishes chewing.

“Unfortunately for you, I did.” I give her a smile that she groans at.

“Are you breathing alright?” is her next question; Cress first, nurse second.

“Yeah, it hurts like a bitch but lungs are getting air,” I tell her and start across the living room to the kitchen. “You still wear that?” I point to the necklace around her neck and she looks down at it like I’ve offended her.

“He gave it to me… that's all I have left of him.” She sounds sad and the words he stole it almost leave my lips, but I inhale a small, slow breath.

“You have Birdie,” I remind her. “She probably could have used a little more female attention. Now she’s a fucking animal.” Just like Koa always wanted.

“Birdie is fine,” Cress tells me, pulling her baby pink cardigan over her chest. “We talked.”

“At least you’re talking to someone.” I pour myself a coffee.

“You don’t deserve that mercy, Riggs.” Cress spits, and before I can argue with her, she’s gone. It feels like it’s never going to get better and most mornings I just miss the kids we used to be.

“Is it always like this?” I keep close to Birdie as she weaves in and out of bodies. It was her idea to bring me to the next race and I’m suddenly regretting saying yes out of pure curiosity. I knew they raced, just not like this. Any time I went with Koa it was to a drag strip and not the chaos of a packed parking garage in downtown Phoenix. It smells like cheap perfume, exhaust, and the music is so loud coming from more than one place that my ears sting.

She let me borrow an outfit of cargo pants and a pink top she’s never worn that rides up on my stomach and makes me feel too old to be around all these people.

“This is quiet,” she says over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, you look hot and no one is going to touch you if you’re with me.”

Over the years of watching her grow up I never saw this version of her. She’s always been a wild one, unchained by the burden of how others perceive her but she’s different now, almost like she enjoys their criticism. It fuels her further than praise ever could. She’s in a pair of leather hot pants and a crop top that’s more of just a bra, but it’s getting the attention of every person we pass by.

We break through the crowd and the guys are standing around Rafe's car talking to each other while Murphy taps away on his cellphone. They look up when they hear her boots and Riggs scowls.

“What are you doing here?” he asks me, clearly still sore as he shifts uncomfortably against the hood.

“Simmer,” Birdie flips him some attitude. “We’re done with that. If I’m in, Cress is in, full transparency.”

Riggs laughs, his face instantly twisting in hurt and I’m grateful for the pain that blossoms across his chest.