“I’m sorry, I have to go. Please. Send someone out here. Hurry. I think my boyfriend and those goons have raced across the railroad tracks. And there’s a lot of trees and overpasses and things for them to get hurt on.”
“Ma’am. Do not go after them. Please, stay on the line with me and wait for—”
I hung up the call and ripped Michael’s door open. I climbed in, slamming the door closed as I buckled my seatbelt. I dropped my purse to the floorboard and slipped my phone into his cup holder. Then I looked him straight in his eyes as he waited for an explanation.
I sighed. “I’ve called the police. But we have to find Clint. He’s in a lot of trouble. Serious trouble.”
Michael scoffed. “Shouldn't shock you one bit.”
“He’s in trouble because he saved me from a group of drunk guys who wanted to take me, Michael.”
“Take you? What the hell do you mean, ta—”
I leveled him with a stare that told him everything he needed to know. Finally, he pulled away from the curb and whipped a U-turn.
“I take it the revving engines beyond the railroad tracks are them?”
I nodded. “Yes. Please. Thank you.”
“And you said you called the police?”
“I did. I told the 9-1-1 operator as much as I could remember. I just hope Clint doesn’t get into too much trouble for helping me like that.”
Michael paused. “What did he do, exactly?”
I shrugged. “What he always does. Harassed them to get their attention so I could run and hop the chain-link fence of the playground back there.”
Michael nodded, but he didn’t say anything. And for some reason, I wanted to know his thoughts. I wanted him to talk to me, even if it was in anger.
“Does he know the guys or anything? Or was it just a group of random guys?”
I winced, knowing how he’d react to the answer. “Two of the guys were from the football field fight the other day.”
He scoffed. “See, Rae? That’s what I’m telling you about this asshole of a dude. He’s always in trouble. That’s why you never should’ve gotten involved with him in the first place. You’re a good girl. You’re not the kind of girl who throws it all away on some dickhead with a nice face.”
I gritted my teeth. “I know you're pissed off at me. And rightfully so. And yes, you’re also probably right about Clint and this entire scenario. About a lot of things. But he did what he did tonight to protect me. I need you to trust me on that. So spare me the lecture and give it to me some other time. You know, when we figure out whether Clint is dead or not.”
“Would do the world some good.”
“Michael!”
“I don’t like the dude, okay? He’s an absolute maniac. Has been our entire high school career. Those comments he made about Allison? Absolutely unacceptable, whether he’s screwing my friend or not.”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek. “Just fucking drive.”
“Fine by me.”
40
Clinton
At least they’re far away from Rae.
It was the only thought that filled my head as I sped down the back roads. The further we got away from the railroad tracks, the worse the road conditions got. And suddenly, I understood where that phrase came from: ‘The other side of the tracks.’
I’m not ever using that fucking phrase again.
I zoomed by crumbling neighborhoods with broken porch lights and cars propped up on cement blocks. I weaved in and out of abandoned neighborhoods, cursing how those assholes kept up with me. These guys were bad news. They had every intention of doing harm tonight. And with the endless supply of beer bottles and cans being tossed at the wheels of my fucking bike, they were still drinking.