Page 134 of Rest In Knotty Pieces

He kisses her cheek. I wonder if he will still like me if I stab her in the eye. She doesn’t really need two.

“I know, but I want to find out what she wants. I’ll be back-” he glances at me.

“He will be back in about five hours, and then he’s all yours.” The words feel like acid on my tongue.

She narrows her eyes. “He better be. You are supposed to be gone.”

I don’t correct her about my identity, and neither does he. Which rankles.

I grab my helmet from where I left it and pull it on my head. He gets one from somewhere. I climb on the bike I stole and wait for him to hop on behind me.

Some asshole rides up with his bike and gets off. I think I remember him from Kestrel’s memories, but I can’t be sure. My Pix takes the bike, touching the other asshole’s shoulder in a far too familiar manner.

So, he’s going to refuse to ride with me.

Fine. Fuck you very much.

I rev the bike and turn my head, looking at him through the visor. Then I take off, leaving him stumbling over the decision as to whether he chases me or not. If he doesn’t follow, my next attempt to get his help will involve swollen balls and an inability to sit easily for the next month. I don’t want to be mean, but I will.

Luckily for his cock, he catches up with me a few minutes later. I look at him, rev the bike, and take off, flying well over the speed limit. We’re in the middle of nowhere; it’s just us and the trees, there are no cars.

Nothing.

But us.

And miles of road.

My anger seeps away, and the worry returns. This is why I don’t like being out. If I have to exist, I think too much. I am a chronic over-worrier, I have to know the plans down to the exact, precise, and perfect moment. No detail escapes me.

But riding out here with so much time to think, I worry about my plans falling through. And I have a lot of moving pieces.

Pix is another piece of my puzzle.

He’s going to do this because I know what kind of person he is, and despite him being a killer, he’s a protector and a defender. He will hear me out, and he will do it because it protects Merle.

I’m not above using his connection with her to my advantage.

We ride until we reach a town.

I stop the bike and leave it clicking and ticking in the tree line where no one can see it, then I pull off my helmet. My stomach flutters as I wait for him to join me. I don’t speak, I don’t tease him. Nothing about this is a game anymore.

The walk is nice. Thirty minutes through thick grass and tall trees that turn the temperature into a cool day. The town itself has about a thousand residents.

A thousand people. It’s tiny.

No one knows anything about this town, it’s surrounded by mountains, is almost backwards with technology and city advantages. It’s quaint. There is an ice-cream shop, a pub, a service station, one mechanic, and it likes to celebrate holidays and have little festivals.

It’s cute and exactly like a million other small towns. There is nothing exceptional about this place.

Which is why I brought it here.

I stop across the road from a cottage. It’s got bushes that stand taller than a person, and they are covered in pink flowers. The door of the cottage is green, and there’s a white letterbox with a pink daisy painted on the side.

“Who lives there?”

“Mrs Potter. She likes to read at night and does the crossword in the morning. Her beta partner smiles too much, and everyone loves him.” My voice is soft as I recall their information. “He works at the local mechanic shop part-time, but hispassion is carpentry, though he helps everyone out when he can. She likes to bake. Her house always has cookies. Melting moments are her favourite, but she loves a good fruitcake, too. They are in their fifties, and they are just really, really decent people.”

“What are we doing here, Raven?” he snarls, out of patience.