Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 129408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
His dad would chuckle, his eyes appearing from the top of the paper, crinkling at the sides. “No bad guys to catch. Not in Amber, son. Gonna make sure it stays that way.”
“So you’ll keep us safe?”
His father’s eyes wouldn’t crinkle. Something would pass over them that a young Luke couldn’t understand, and an older Luke would recognize as his father’s silent battle between his job and his moral responsibility.
“I’ll always keep you safe. Whatever it takes.”
And he did. Luke and his mom were safe, happy, content. He would walk down the street with his father, watch him greet everyone, most people by first name—he took the time to do that kind of stuff. Amber was small, and there weren’t any bad guys, so he had the time.
He didn’t know when it stopped. That hero worship thing, that boasting to his classmates that his daddy kept the whole of Amber safe.
Maybe it was when Luke began to understand the politics of the town. Who really ran it. Not his father with his uniform and moral responsibility but the motorcycle men, with the tattoos and that something else that Luke wouldn’t see as morals.
He didn’t know when the hero worship started to fade off. But he knew when it disappeared completely.
He’d often ride with his father in his cruiser after school, when his mother was at book club or working at her part-time job at the library. He loved it at first, riding up front, watching his dad at work.
But he was older now, and he didn’t quite know if he liked watching anymore. He didn’t quite like what he saw.
He’d been pissed that day that he couldn’t go shoot hoops with his friends. He couldn’t escape this horrible feeling creeping up on him like a bad tuna sandwich that his dad wasn’t the man he thought he was.
Then he got the call on the radio telling him to go to the compound. The one on the outside of town where the bikers lived. His dad’s jaw went hard and he raced out there, lights and everything. Before that, he usually only put them on when Luke begged him. Or if someone was going just a little too fast on the road outside town.
His dad usually didn’t give them tickets, just warnings. Luke used to think that was cool.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
“You need to stay in the car, Luke,” his dad ordered in a voice Luke didn’t quite recognize.
Luke didn’t answer, because they were screeching into the clubhouse and he saw blood. A lot of it. And a dead body.
His father saw it too.
“Luke, do not move and do not look.”
Luke squeezed his eyes shut, not just because his dad ordered but because he didn’t want to look. No way.
But he couldn’t help it.
When he heard the car open and close, and muffled voices and radio noise, he opened them again. His father was looking down at the man with the blood. Talking with the men.
He waited for his father to do more than look and talk.
He was waiting a long time.
He didn’t know what made him move his gaze.
And then he saw her. She was swinging her legs, with boots much too big for her hanging off them. He didn’t think she was doing that for any reason other than she must’ve been doing that before.
Before the man and the blood.
Luke saw her face. It was the girl from school. Cade’s pretty sister who didn’t look at all like she belonged to this. Luke watched her. Watched innocence seep out of her like water from a fast-emptying bathtub. He watched the hurt that didn’t even seem to fit on such a small face take over.
He clenched his fists on top of his knees, itching to clasp the door handle. To do something to help her.
His dad would help her. It was his job. He kept people safe.
He’d somehow keep her safe.
Because he was watching her, that frozen moment of when a little girl had something sacred stolen from her in the backyard of her childhood, Luke did not see that his father had finished the conversation with the men.
Not the bleeding man, of course. That man wouldn’t be having any more conversations.
He didn’t notice until the car door opened, slammed closed and his father started reversing out of the lot. Luke whipped his head around, hating that he had to leave the girl. He focused on his father’s hard-jawed profile.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
His father didn’t look at him. “Taking us home.”
Luke gaped at him. “You’re not doing anything?” he spluttered. “You’re not helping them?”
You’re not keeping her safe? was what he didn’t say.
There was a long silence, long enough for his father to direct them out of the parking lot and back onto the open road. Long enough for Luke to realize that he didn’t even get one glimpse of that little girl.