Chapter 16 - Back It Up
Later that day Flint returned to the duplex and pulled into the empty driveway on Bryce’s side, prepared to take another stab at getting Goldie committed to The Cause. He opened the car door and heard the thump of bass coming from her side of the building. It was after five o’clock. The rain had stopped and Flint had assumed Darby would be at the restaurant and that Goldie would be home from school, but the skull-rattling boom of hard-hitting hip-hop wasn’t what he expected to hear.
He stepped up to the porch and looked in the front window where the curtains had been drawn back, and his mouth went dry. It was Goldie, her mouth rushing along to lightning-fast lyrics over a bass-line so heavy he could hear the window rattle in its frame, shaking her ass to the beat as she dusted the furniture.
Flint was hypnotized. He started to groove with the music a little, admiring the sway of Goldie’s slim hips as she shook them along with her feather duster. Aw, hell yeah. Back it up for me, Pumpkin.
His usually-alert senses barely registered the vehicle coming from the dead end of the street until it backfired directly behind him, sounding like a gunshot. Goldie screamed, her head whipping around for the source of the bang. She met Flint’s eyes outside her window and screamed again, seeming to duck out of sight.
Flint stood there frozen. Did she think he hadn’t seen her, and she was trying to hide? He wasn’t sure whether he should back down the stairs and leave her alone or knock on the door and ask her why she’d ducked. He chose knocking.
When Goldie opened the door she was rubbing low on her left hip, a pained look in her eyes. “Ow. You scared me.”
The expression on Flint’s face must have relayed his confusion, because Goldie’s cheeks pinked. “When you startled me, my foot slipped and I fell.” She flushed more. “I’m a little clumsy,” she said quietly.
His resolve strengthened. He wanted her working alongside him. “Let me make it up to you. Dinner tonight?”
Goldie’s smile froze and he knew she was going to turn him down. He should have tried something different. He smiled and put his hands up, palms-out, trying to show her there was no pressure to say yes. He wasn’t so attached to her answer at all. Nope. And he definitely had not been rehearsing the best ways to ask her the whole way here. “Leftovers are cool, too. I wanted to offer.” He turned for the stairs. Dammit.
But Goldie’s shy voice had his toes doing a happy dance inside his boots that had nothing to do with a mission accomplished. “Just let me grab a sweater.”
Once she was settled in the passenger seat and Flint had jogged around to climb into his side, he popped the question. “You mind if we go by the BBOC first? There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Goldie looked over, her expression wary but curious. “Another switch?”
Flint shook his head. “No, just you and Cora on that list for now.”
She nodded and they headed out, speaking of light things, like her new job and how she was getting around. No magic, no vampires. Definitely no shifters. He didn’t know why he hadn’t told her that part yet. Hadn’t come up.
Then she said that cat’s name. “But Riot said he’d have my car fixed soon.”
Flint startled. What in the hell? Something about that male was still not sitting right. “So you know that Riot was toting Darby around town today on his motorcycle? You’re okay with that?”
Goldie stared out the window. “Not like I can stop her. What do you have against him, anyway? He seems nice enough to me.”
How was he going to explain this to her? He didn’t want to scare her, and J had told him to keep his mouth shut about Riot’s record, but Flint had to tell her something. It was only fair she know who her sister was getting mixed up with. “I run this sort of physical fitness training group-”
“Like Crossfit?” Goldie interrupted.
Flint gave a laugh that sounded more like a grunt. “Not quite that serious. Anyway, one night about a year ago Riot nearly beat a guy to death and nobody knows why. They were supposed to be sparring.”
Goldie’s eyes went wide with alarm. “And you think he could do that to my- uh, to Darby?”
Well, shit, now she was scared anyway. Flint rushed to backpedal. “No. I mean, I don’t know. He’s never hurt a woman as far as I’ve heard. But he’s a shifty fucker, that’s for sure.”
Goldie settled back into her seat. “Warning her off him won’t work. It will push her at him.”
She sounded like she was tired of it. Best of friends, or not really friends at all? He was beginning to have his suspicions, although the pair looked nothing alike. “How long have you two known each other?”
Goldie hesitated just a beat before answering. “Times like this, it feels like forever.”
They parked and Flint opened Goldie’s door, watching her petite legs reach for the faraway ground as she slid from his car, her head only coming up to his shoulders when she landed. No sir, Flint did not mind his women being short. Seeing her reminded him of the way she’d danced when she hadn’t known he was there, the shimmy of her hips and the way he’d wished he could be pressed up against her as she grooved to the rhythm. But instead Flint chased the image from his head and pointed away from the river, behind the store. “We’re going that way.”
They went up the hill together, side by side. Goldie slipped once on the muddy ground and Flint reached out to steady her, ended up holding her hand. She didn’t pull away. Mmhm. He wanted to ask her out again, nevermind that they were already on a date. Kind of.
At the top of the hill, they stopped and looked down at Carick, standing there talking on his phone. Between that average human behavior and his outfit of jeans, long-sleeve red t-shirt, and hiking boots, the big fucker almost looked like a NFL football player on his day off. Except bigger, and scarier, like you could tell by looking at him that he didn’t belong.
“Who’s that?” she said, letting go of Flint’s hand.
“That,” he said, feeling the chill of her absence more keenly than he wanted to admit, “is our switch expert.”
Goldie gaped at him for a second or two before turning and striding on. Was she angry? Curious? He couldn’t be sure.
They got closer and Flint was struck by how delicate and defenseless Goldie looked next to Carick. The Steward was a full two feet taller than her and at least three times as broad. Next to him Goldie looked like an elf from Santa’s workshop. “Goldie, this is Carick, leader of The Cause, sometimes called the Steward. Carick, this is Goldie, the switch I met last week.”
Goldie stuck out her hand for Carick to shake, still looking unsure of herself. Carick ignored the proffered hand and stared at Goldie, looking her over from top to bottom. “She glows green, yes?”
Flint nodded, looking at Goldie, inviting her to speak if she wanted. “Green. Right.”
Carick nodded sharply. “Welcome to Breath Coven. Let's start your training.”