“I’ve gotta go,” I say. “Call me back.”
I hang up, another idea having formed. I call Gloria next.
“Know anywhere Royal might go when he’s upset?” I ask. “When he’s being reckless?”
“There’s a strip where we race sometimes,” she says. “But there’s way too much traffic right now. Why?”
“Can you go down there and make sure he’s not there?” I ask. “He’s in my car. Call me if he’s there.”
I hang up and hit Colt’s number. “Hey, Dynamo,” I say, already on a role. “Have you heard from Royal?”
“A couple days ago,” he says. “When he booked his fights for December.”
“Call me if he gets in touch with you about Slaughterpen,” I say. “And can you do me a huge favor and run down and make sure he’s not there?”
Colt sighs. “You’re a pain in my ass, Appleteeny.”
“Ditto,” I say. “But somehow, I still tolerate you.”
“It’s the hope that you’ll get a shot at this super mega fine dick one day,” he says. “It’s kitty catnip. Just ask Dixie.”
“Seriously, thank you,” I say. “You can have my cut next time I fight.”
He laughs. “So… Never?”
“Book me in next weekend,” I say. “Thanks, Colt. I gotta go.”
“Anything for you, Teeny.”
I hit end on the call and look at the clock. We’re almost at the bridge. Just a few more minutes. My hands are shaking. What if he jumped? It’s later in the year and colder than when he jumped with me, and it was cold as fuck that day. Will he be able to swim before hypothermia has his seizing up? Would he even try?
I remember his arms around me like a vice as he let out his breath, sinking into the depths of the water with me.
It’s dark. It doesn’t hurt anymore.
I hit call on my phone again, think of what Colt said.
“Hey, girl,” Dixie’s voice answers on the other end, sounding bubbly as always. “I thought you were still mad at me about the video.”
“I need help,” I say. “Royal’s in my car, and he might be in danger, I don’t know. Can you go by the school and just call me if my car is there?”
She’s quiet a few seconds. “If you want to be friends again, you know I like everyone,” she says. “If you don’t want to be friends but you have tea, or even if you just wantmeto spill, that’s fine. But don’t call me asking for help with Royal.”
“Dixie,” I say. “It’s important.”
“Where were you when Colt was in the hospital?” she asks. “Was that not important?”
“Got it,” I say. “You’re right, we’re not friends. And by the way, Colt didn’t hesitate to help. Sit with that for a while.”
I hang up just as Duke speeds toward the one-lane wooden bridge, the beams arching over it having recently received a new coat of white paint. They glow like ghostly arms reaching up into the low, stormy twilight sky. Headlights wash over the planks, nearly blinding us as a car shoots onto the bridge from the other side.
“Motherfucker,” Duke yells, jerking the wheel. The huge vehicle seems to move in slow motion, lumbering off the road just as a zippy, little blue Miata skids to a stop beside us in a cloud of exhaust and burnt rubber fumes. Magnolia waves, her curls in a crazy tangle around her smiling face.
I roll down the window. “No sign on the other side?”
“Nope,” she says. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “Thanks for checking.”