talk about the fact we did it last night, huh? About the fact I just lost my virginity when I was too wasted to even remember it? Yeah, sounds like an awesome conversation.â She flipped from his arms, but he was too quick.
He grabbed her by the wrists, and pulled her into a hug. Only when she stopped struggling and relaxed in his arms did he let her go enough to see into her face. âClover?â
She hung her head, couldnât meet his eyes. âDallas ⦠we gotta go, Iâm so dead meat.â She was supposed to be at home, getting ready for her biggest racing season yet.
She doubted she would ever be allowed out of the house again, once Leslie got her hands on her, let alone on her dirt bike. And Ernie; the thought of him made her feel sick, of the look on his face when she came home like this. Or what punishment heâd come up with. She might as well forget about bikes altogether.
âI love you,â Dallas said.
She hesitated, before pulling from his grasp. âIâm sorry, but I need to go home. Now. This girlâs as good as dead.â
TWELVE
Clover spotted Ernie through the darkness as Dallas drove slowly down her driveway. Her father was holding an axe high above his head, cutting firewood out the side of the house.
âBetter drop me here,â she said quietly, motioning with her hand to the offshoot of the driveway that led to the garage. âI need to talk to Dad.â
âYou donât want me to come?â
âWhat youâve got a death wish?â
âI would.â
âThank you. But thereâs no need for both of us to get chopped to bits.â
He hesitated. âFine. But, apologise to them for me. And tell them Iâll come round later ⦠if Iâm allowed.â
She nodded, then paused, before reaching for the door handle. Was she still too mad to give him a kiss? A hug? Ernie was there, in the corner of her eye.
She smiled tightly and swung her door open.
âHey ⦠â He grabbed her arm. âCan I call ya later?â
She nodded and forced her best itâs-all-okay smile, then slid slowly out of the truck, and closed the door gently behind her.
Ernie didnât look up, just swung the axe down hard into its cutting stump. The blade stuck deep into the wet wood. He wiped his brow with a gloved hand.
But before he could speak, Cloverâs ears closed up, in self-preservation, at the sound of her motherâs frantic voice.
âCLOVER!â
Leslie flapped into the light, from around the front of the house, half-tripping in the deep snow. She was wearing a pair of Ernieâs old work boots, undone, and a housecoat. Her hair was wild, but not nearly as wild as her eyes.
âWhere have you been?â Leslie kept talking before Clover could answer. âYou are in so much trouble, young lady!â
âHi, Mom.â
Leslie grabbed Clover by the arm and waved the cordless phone in her face. âIâve been calling you for hours!â she screeched. âDidnât I buy you a cell phone? I thought youâd had an accident, or worse! I was about to call the police!â
âIâm sorry!â
âSorry, my bum, miss! You are ⦠You Ernie?â
Clover sighed and hung her head, then jumped back as Ernieâs blade came frighteningly close to swiping her. Heâd pulled it from the stump and swung it over his shoulder.
âGo get changed,â Ernie said, and turned towards the house. âI already loaded your bike and gear bag.â
Cloverâs forehead wrinkled with confusion. âDad?â
âGo get dressed, Clover.â
âErnie! You have got to be kidding?â Leslieâs arms flung into the air, sending the phone flying. âHow could you possibly take her riding today, and why should you? Have you lost your mind?â
âThatâs exactly what Iâm doing,â Ernie said over his shoulder, as he made his way through the