Chapter 8: Say It Out Loud

Rafe unlocked the front door himself and stood in it.

He didn't invite anyone in.

Dutch took his time crossing the lot. Five patches fanned out behind him in a loose line, hands in their jacket pockets.

"Evening," Dutch said. "Steph, you've lost weight."

"What do you want?"

"I came to bring you home."

He said it gently, for the men behind him.

Rafe took his phone out and typed a few words with one thumb. Then he put it away and said nothing.

"You don't have a home to bring me to," I said. "You changed the code."

"That was a mix-up with the security company."

"You boxed my rigs and left them in the snow."

"We were protecting your equipment."

He spread his hands to the five men, who looked at the ground.

"Look, she's been under a lot of stress. A woman can lose track."

I laughed.

It cracked out of me, and it was ugly, and Dutch's smile slipped for the first time.

Headlights turned in at the gate.

Then another pair, and another.

The foreman climbed out of a truck in her robe and work boots, with a socket wrench in one hand.

Behind her came four mechanics from the shop, one still in pajama pants, all of them carrying something heavy.

They filed in on either side of Rafe and stopped.

Nobody said a word. A man with a tire iron looked Dutch up and down, then spat neatly into the gravel.

"Six minutes," the foreman said to Rafe. "I got dressed in four."

"Appreciate it."

I had never in my life walked into a room and found people standing next to me.

My throat closed up. I swallowed it down, stepped out beside Rafe, and said it loud.

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