My Tye by Kristin Daniels

and ran the hand that wasn’t busy stroking her knuckles through his hair.
    “I was getting in my car—” she started.
    “Where?”
    “I was in Carson. Off 87. I was attacked from behind. I didn’t see anything or hear anything. Not until it was too late.”
    “Carson? What the…” Club Euphoria was in Carson off Route 87. Goddamn it. “So you didn’t see who did this?”
    “No. Once he shoved me in the van and came at me to…”
    When she stopped and tears welled again, Tye’s throat sealed tight. Even though she could barely get the words out, he was able to figure out exactly what she was going to say. When he came at me to tie me up…
    “That’s when I saw he was covered head to toe in black. A black knit hat. A black scarf. He had on a black shirt and black pants.”
    “And he drove you back here? Back to Pete’s? In a van? Do you remember the make? The color?”
    She looked up to him. “God, it was so dark out, and so was the van. Black? Dark green or blue maybe? It was an older model, that I know. Old enough and beat up enough that the doors and side panels were rusted out.”
    “Where off 87 were you?”
    She drew her lips between her teeth and studied him for a moment before answering. “I was parked at the corner of Rogers and Tinley.”
    He didn’t know the names of all the cross-streets in Carson, but if he had to hazard a guess, Rogers and Tinley wasn’t going to be too far away from Club Euphoria. “What were you doing? Were you with anyone?”
    She looked from where he held her hand in her lap up to his eyes and then over to the door before concentrating on their entwined fingers once again. “Look, I’ll tell you what happened. I’ll tell you everything I remember, I promise.” She said the words like she was trying to convince herself she really would. “It’s just… Not here.”
    “Why not here? Laine, just tell me…”
    When she started to shake her head, she winced and drew her eyebrows together. He’d had more than a few concussions over the years while playing football throughout high school and college, so he understood how much her head had to be killing her right now. But holding true to classic Laine style, she never alluded to it, never uttered a single derogatory word about it.
    “Not here,” she repeated, looking around like the walls had ears and they were eavesdropping on every word she said.
    It took every ounce of control he possessed not to jump to his feet and turn around to punch the wall. Yet, even through his boiling blood, he was able to recognize his need to hit something was due only to his growing concern for her. She was hurt. Scared. And her terrified ambiguousness was driving him up a flipping wall.
    He’d gotten some information out of her, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
    He dialed his edginess back a fraction with a deep breath. Not that it helped. His blood still rocketed through his veins, joined now by cramping muscles along his shoulders and an irritating new tic at the edge of his jaw.
    “I need to hear it all. And sooner rather than later.”
    She slipped her hand from his and closed her good eye. The strangled breath she let loose and the return of her quivering chin had him feeling like a jerk for pushing her so hard. But he had to. He didn’t have a choice.
    “When can I leave?” she whispered.
    Tye continued to study her—the pallor of her skin, the unsteady tremor of her fingers as she twisted them together over her stomach. “I don’t know. You took quite a hit to your head. The concussion might be a mild one, but it’s still a concussion. You should stay.”
    “No, it would be better if I left. I can’t stay here…”
    “Why not? You’ve just had the crap beat out of you,” he reiterated, drawing on the one clear fact—the only clear fact—that he knew.
    She attempted to shake her head again before fingering the bandage at her temple. “Believe me, I know that. But it’s not so simple.” Resting her forehead in