Outside, the biker leader folded his arms.
The man in gray tried to step around him.
Two other bikers moved into the open space.
Not touching him.
Just existing there.
He stopped.
I heard the leader clearly this time.
“You’re done walking.”
The gray-shirted man laughed.
“What is this, some tough-guy act?”
“No.”
The biker’s face remained calm.
“It’s a gas station.”
“Then mind your business.”
The leader looked toward the store window.
At Chloe.
Then back at him.
“Kid made it my business.”
I will remember that sentence until I die.
The gray-shirted man reached into his pocket.
Every biker nearby changed posture.
Nothing explosive.
No weapons appeared.
But the entire lot seemed to tighten.
The man froze.
He slowly removed a phone.
“Relax.”
The biker leader stared.
“Been relaxed all day.”
The man held up the phone.
“I’m calling my boss.”
“Call police while you’re at it.”
That changed his expression.
The leader saw it.
So did I.
The man did not want police.
He walked backward.
Then toward the SUV.
The biker leader did not follow.
One of the riders had already taken out his own phone.
Photographs.
License plate.
Vehicle.
Both men.
Evidence.
The dark SUV pulled away.
Every biker watched until it disappeared onto the highway.
The leader returned to the store.
I was furious.
At him.
At Bowman.
At myself.
At being relieved.
“Who are you?”
I demanded.
He looked surprised.
“Name’s Grant.”
“I didn’t ask your name.”
“All right.”
“What are you people doing here?”
“Buying gas.”
“Don’t joke with me.”
“I’m not.”
Chloe tugged my sleeve.
“Mommy.”
I ignored her.
Grant looked at me.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“We were heading toward Victorville.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Fifteen of you?”
“We ride together.”
I stared at him.
My brain kept searching for the trap.
Kindness had become suspicious to me.
Help had become suspicious.
Anything free had a hidden cost.
Grant seemed to recognize that.
He nodded once.
“We can leave.”
That surprised me.
“What?”
“You’re scared.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
He gave me a look.
We both knew that was a lie.
He did not embarrass me by saying it.
“If you want us gone, we go.”
I looked outside.
The SUV was gone too.
Chloe whispered, “But then who helps us get gas?”
My eyes closed.
Grant looked away to hide a smile.
“I have money,” I said.
Chloe frowned.
“You said we only have four dollars.”
I wanted the floor to open.
The cashier suddenly became fascinated by a rack of beef jerky.
Grant did not react.
No pity.