Chaos Theory by M Evonne Dobson Page B

Daniel told you the truth?”
    His sudden slack face and shifting eyes say it all. I snort, but need to be down there with Daniel. That means I head straight down the embankment, and if goon squad spots Gravel Voice? Well, too bad.
    â€œKami.” Worry might have softened his voice. “Take this.” He yanks off a glove and pulls out a business card from his wallet. “Anytime, day or night.”
    I take it. Gravel Voice has a name, Detective Bob Davidson. A cool exit down the hill would have been nice; instead I slip and slide, finally ending up scooting down on my butt. At the base, Sam, Sandy, and Brute wait. Fifty yards away, the goons head under the dome.
    â€œWhat do we do?” Sam the Fearful asks.
    â€œFollow me. United front.”
    Sandy grins. “Cool.”
    I’m terrified. “No smiling. Look mean.”
    Side by side, along with droll-slinging Brute, we cross to Broken Bone. Daniel rides his board up the highest bowl, slides the rim, and then balances rock solid for ages on the edge. Then he rocks it off the perilous rise, finishing his run.
    Daniel sees us first. His jaw literally drops. The skaters clear space for my crew. It’s feeling like West Side Story’s gang rumble. Gang? Right, our pep band t-shirts under our open coats and school-colored knit caps on our heads scream gang.
    Daniel’s short temper blows. “What the hell are you doing here?”
    â€œSaving your butt.” I turn to the goons. “Nothing happens here today.” And isn’t that like a cop-show actor—the one bluffing without a gun or backup?
    â€œShe your protection squad?” Goon One asks. “Listen, Bud, you come back and you’ll get what you got last time. This is our territory. We don’t want your stinking drugs on our turf.”
    Now who’s sounding like a movie? Then the goon spits in Daniel’s face and waits, just itching for Daniel to fight.
    Sandy thrusts Brute’s leash into my hand, and she body locks against Daniel who’s zeroing in on the goon. Her voice changes into someone I don’t know. “Come on, honey. I don’t want to see a fight.” Her hand slips into Daniel’s open jacket and brushes from his chest to his waist. “You can do this another time. I don’t want to see any blood, okay?”
    Isn’t that a scene in one of those old film noir movies? Whatever. It works and it’s brilliant. Then Sandy drags Daniel away. Sam, Brute, and I follow.
    Goon One calls after us, “Yeah, head home with your honey .” He makes smooching noises and the goons laugh.
    Daniel grabs his backpack, while I grab his board where he left it. He holds his temper until we cross Sixth Street and drop down into the parking lot, out of sight of the skate park. Then he rips Sandy’s hand away. She’d worked it around his waist as she dragged him toward the cars. He rounds on me. “What the hell are you doing? I said to stay out of my life. You’re supposed to be on the Fort Carroll bus.”
    Sandy jumps on his words. “Kami’s here to help your sorry ass!” She steps up in his face. “You be nice to her, because you owe her big-time!” To me, she says, “Get this creep up to speed and get what we need.” She takes Brute’s leash from my hand. “We’ll drop Brute off at home and meet you guys at the lair.” Then she heads for her pickup.
    Watching my BFF march away, Sam shoots me the craziest smile. “Isn’t she great?” Then he runs to catch up with Sandy.
    I’m wowed too. Sandy’s fast on her feet, but that fast? And she’d hit the testosterone-stand-off right out of the skate park without anyone getting hurt.
    Daniel stares at my friends as they drive off. He makes fists, the same way he’d done manhandling his backpack at the library and MA. Clink. Clink. Clink. Then like an erupting volcano he slams his hand into the