Before The Storm ( wlw / lesbian )

Chapter 11

Toni lugged a crate into the back of the truck bed, swiping at the sweat dripping down her forehead. These things were probably around 20 to 30 pounds each, and the Raven gang had been going at it since dawn. The air was warm due to the change of seasons, and if that wasn't enough, the smoke from the idling trucks and sticky leather jackets kept it uncomfortably insulated.

"Hey, Tiny," Wonderboy greeted, tossing a cool bottle of water at the brunette who downed it greedily. "Ready to head back?"

Toni gave him an obvious look, "No shit, Wonder. My arms feel like theyre about to fall off." She emphasized, rubbing at the throbbing muscles beneath her jacket. If she had to lift another crate filled of shit she was sure her body was going to collapse onto the tracks, and she wouldn't move if a train came. She was exhausted. They all were.

"So, have you heard from Grace?" His voice was tentative. Toni couldn't help but grit her teeth together at the question.

That night when Toni left the hospital was the last night anyone saw Grace Lawrence. It'd been a month, an uneventful Christmas filled with bellies to the brim with liquor and knuckles bruised from brawling, and no one had suspected for her to take off without so much as an explanation. Just a note with a red lip print taped to Toni's trailer door.

                   / Thank you for saving me, Toni. Do not come looking for me.  It's best if I'm on my own.

                    Yours, Grace P. Lawrence. /

The line between friendship and romance was so incredibly blurred she didn't know how to take it. She didn't even know her middle name, what the P stood for. That must mean something.

"No. And I doubt I will," she chuckled bitterly, staring off into the empty railway. "If Grace doesnt want me around, I won't be."

That wasn't necessarily true. She was self destructing trying to find where the redhead could have possibly taken off to. Countless sleepless nights filled with tossing and turning, cold sweats staining the bed because of the worst case scenarios popping into her mind. It was frustrating, to say the least.

"Don't worry. I'm sure she'll pop up in the classic pompous Lawrence way," he teased. But it fell on deaf ears. How could her once sworn enemy she took under broken and barren wings just leave without even a proper goodbye? Especially with the Lawrence's gearing up for whatever they had in store for her and her gang. It was selfish, is what it was.

She shook her head clear of thought. "Let's just go drop the order at The Pinpoint and be done with it."

Wonderboy wasn't about to argue with that, and neither was the rumbling of his stomach. They hopped into the bed of the truck and set off to the nightclub, Shasta batting at the bigger boys hand who kept sneaking its way into his bag of Doritos.

-

One of Coen's favourite things was mudding. Hopping into an RV and sending it at 80 miles an hour down a dirt path that he didn't know where would end him up. Him and his dad had been doing it since he was a kid, but with Calian being busy with keeping Clairfield as moral a corrupt town could possibly be, and now with handling the Rich operation covertly, he hadn't gotten the chance to really do much with his son. The boy didn't think much of it after his father bailed on him when he was around 12, leaving him in the hands of the older Raven's, coming back with empty pockets and a drinking problem. So when Susie approached him in the student lounge after a particularly dreary rain storm, he definitely didn't expect her to suggest it.

"Hey, Coen;" the blonde greeted with a soft smile, batting at his feet sprawled on the couch so she could sit. "What's up?"

"Just trying to finish my chapter for my book, aaaand-" he fumbled with the keys, a final (albeit over the top) smash of the space bar signalling his triumph "-Done! I'm all yours," he smiled warmly, which she couldn't help but return. No matter how long they were together for, Susie could never get over the kindness Coen held inside him, amongst an endless plethora of knowledge and dad jokes.