“Wait!” I started to follow, but Cletus stopped me with a hand on my arm.

“No time for that right now. Claire knows what she’s doing. We need to leave.”

I pulled out of his grip. “No. No fucking way. I need to see—”

“Duane, let her go. We ain’t got time for this and she ain’t got time for this. Claire will keep her safe.”

I wasn’t so sure. Not because I didn’t trust Claire or have faith in her level of badass, but I had a choking need to be the one to save Jess. I needed to see her to safety, witness it with my own eyes, hold her and know with certainty she was okay. But Claire and Jess were already in the Nissan Frontier and Claire was already maneuvering it out of the lot.

Cursing, I nodded. Cletus was right and I hated it.

We sprinted to the GTO, Jethro covering us with the gun Jess had passed him. I heard rather than saw Claire’s truck peel out and the engine rev as she sped away.

The outside of the bar was vacant, no soul in sight. The four of us quickly piled into Beau’s car and I sped off like a demon, hoping to never lay eyes on the godforsaken Iron Order headquarters again.

Twenty minutes later no one had said a word and we’d had no sighting of Claire’s truck. I was still glancing in the rearview mirror, half expecting to see motorcycles tailing us. But I didn’t. I saw only tourists’ rental cars, trucks, and campers. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jess.

We were just about fifteen minutes from home, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to know she was safe.

So I broke the silence. “Jethro, I need you to call Claire, find out where they are.”

“I texted Claire five minutes ago. They’re good. Jackson is meeting them at the James’s house. He’d read them both the riot act over the phone, she said. Claire is staying with Jess for the night in their guestroom.”

I blew out a breath, nodding, a new wave of relief passing through me. For the first time in my life I was thankful Jackson James existed. “Good. That’s good.”

Jethro turned in his seat and addressed his question to Cletus. “What I want to know is, what happened two years ago the night of January seventh, Cletus.”

“That’s the night Tommy Bronson went missing, aka Lube.”

“Lube?” Beau asked.

I saw Cletus nod in my rearview mirror. “Yeah. His biker name was Lube…an unfortunate nickname. But he got it because he was so slippery.”

“You have proof? The Order killed him?”

“No. I have no proof. I was bluffing. But everyone knows Razor did it.” He waved his hand in the air like this was a fact and this fact was common knowledge.

“Well, what I want to know is,” Beau met my eyes in the mirror briefly before turning to Cletus, “why did you tell Razor all that stuff when you were so sure we were being recorded? About how the police have been informed about the traps, but don’t know? Can’t he just use that to blackmail us again?”

Cletus took off his thick and unnecessary glasses, handed them to Beau. “You see this? This is an FPV video scrambler. It renders recording equipment useless. They might have been recording us, but all they’ll get is static.”

Jethro huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Then what the hell was the silly string for?”

“Like I said, it’s silly. And it makes a mess. I like to be prepared for all eventualities.”

I didn’t know what to say. Apparently, neither did anyone else because everyone was silent. Naturally, my thoughts turned back to Jess.

I needed to speak to her. Instinct told me to go to her, wrap her in my arms, and take her away from all this craziness. Take her back to our cabin and keep her there until things between us were sorted. I wanted her to look at me with certainty again. Not anger. Never hurt.

But first I needed a plan.

“You want us to drop you off at Jess’s?”

I glanced at my oldest brother, then shook my head.

“Why the hell not?”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and gave Jethro my stony profile, and said nothing.

“I agree with Jethro,” Cletus chimed in, then added, “For the record.”

“Me too,” Beau agreed.

Jethro continued to push when I remained silent. “That woman loves you. I saw the way she looked at you when we walked in, saw the fear in her eyes when you volunteered to get cut.”

I shook my head, rejecting his words. “I have no plan. I’ve got nothing. I need to figure things out first, figure out—”

Jethro cut me off. “See, this is your problem.”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Yeah, you do. You’re always planning, but getting nothing done, waiting for a sure thing. You love that woman, you go get her, Duane. You don’t wait ’til the time is right.”

“Pot, meet kettle.” Beau’s retort sounded almost cheerful.

“Shut it, Beau. We’re not talking about me.” Jethro turned in his seat, facing me and added in a more persistent tone, “She loves you something fierce. She does. You don’t wait for that kind of love to cool off, believe me. You strike while the iron is hot.”

***

It was the middle of the night and I was about to throw rocks at the window of Sheriff James’s house. Specifically at his daughter’s window. Now these were small rocks, pebbles really, and I wasn’t trying to break anything. I just wanted her to let me inside.

I didn’t know what I was doing. This kind of recklessness was completely foreign to me. I had no plan, no idea if I was about to make things a hundred times worse. But something about Jethro’s pushing, when he’d said You don’t wait for that kind of love to cool off. You strike while the iron is hot rang true.

Jethro’s odd words of wisdom, plus a restlessness that felt like heartburn pushed me to make my second spur-of-the-moment decision in the last month. The first being tricking Jessica James backstage at the community center.

I jogged over to Jessica’s house—with no strategy, no confidence that this would work—only knowing I needed to see her. I needed to make this right before she’d slept another night on the angry words between us and decided I’d pushed her away too many times to forgive.

I tossed three pebbles at her second-story window, waited, then threw two more. She didn’t appear, so I tossed another two. I was warring with doubt and eyeballing the tree next to the house, considering the likelihood of climbing it without killing myself, when I saw her light flip on. I didn’t know whether I was relieved or distraught when she opened the window.

She poked her head outside, her long blonde hair dangling over one shoulder, and scanned the rooftop.

Not allowing myself to think about it, I cupped my hands to my mouth and loud-whispered, “Jess! Down here.”

I saw her frown in my general direction, but no focus in her features. She couldn’t see me.

“Duane…? Is that you?”

“Yes. It’s me.”

Her eyes were still searching for me as I again studied the hemlock tree next to the house. I decided to climb it.

“Where are you?”

“I’m coming up.”

“You’re…what?”

I didn’t answer because I was already climbing the tree. Now, this tree was really two trees, split down the middle. I was able to leverage myself between them using my upper body strength exclusively. Luckily, there was a branch just out of reach, so I jumped for it and grabbed on.

“Oh my God!” I heard her whisper, and she sounded frantic. “Please do not tell me you are climbing that tree.”

“Hush, I’m almost there.” I pulled myself up until I was finally kneeling on the branch.

“Duane Winston, you are the craziest person I’ve ever met.” I don’t think she meant for me to hear those last words, but her voice carried, and they made me smile and gave me hope because along with exasperated they sounded affectionate.

I climbed one more branch, though I wasn’t sure it would hold my weight. It made a cracking sound just as I straightened and I heard Jess squeak, which made me laugh.

“Are you laughing?” she accused with a harsh whisper. “I can’t believe you’re laughing. After what happened tonight. You are the only person on the face of the earth who would laugh while risking a broken neck. Everyone knows hemlock trees aren’t climbing trees…”

Her tirade continued as I stepped on the steepled roof and carefully made my way across. She was still fussing at me as I climbed into her window, keeping my footfalls as soundless as possible.

“…all this risky behavior, you’re going to kill yourself. Or I’m going to kill you for making me a witness to it. You are completely thoughtless about your own safety…”

I closed the window behind me and surveyed her room. I crossed to the light switch and flipped it off. Then I moved back to where she stood. Her hands were on her hips; the slant of her mouth was even more pronounced now that she was frowning.

She was still talking, something about medical insurance and hoping I had a good policy, so I kissed her to hush her. And also because I needed to. I needed to know she was safe, whole, unharmed. I needed to feel her body, her heartbeat against my chest.