Chapter 34 34.Midnight Escapade
Tabitha’s POV
The wind slaps against my hoodie as Reed cuts through the quiet highway, the motorcycle’s engine rumbling beneath us. The farther we ride from the Aldair estate, the darker everything becomes, the streetlights thinning until there's nothing around us but open road and moonlit trees.
This one rides like the devil’s chasing him!
When he veers off onto a narrow forest path, I start to wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake climbing on this thing with him tonight.
“W-Wait, where are we going?!” I shout over the roar of the engine, wind tearing the words from my mouth even as I cling tighter to his waist.
His chuckle rumbles through the roar of the engine. “Relax, princess. We’re going somewhere fun.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound suspicious at all!” I yell again, fighting the wind so he can hear me.
Reed tilts his head just enough for me to catch the grin in his voice. “Too late to back out now. You made your choice the second you put that helmet on.”
I wince when I feel branches scraping against my sleeves as we weave through the path until the trees finally part, revealing what looks like an abandoned coastal checkpoint. The place is half-swallowed by wild grass and saltwater air. I spot a crumbling watchtower that I didn’t even know existed on this island until now. It is situated beside a lonely pier stretching out toward black ocean water splashing gently against the rocks. This pier is smaller than Kaleigh pier and appears to have been abandoned for years.
Reed kills the engine. I hop off the bike and stretch my legs while he props the motorcycle against a rotted post. We pause for a while to observe the weathered watchtower in front of us. Reed jerks his chin toward it and motions for me to follow.
“Let’s go.”
“What is this place?” I ask as we make our way across the uneven ground.
“It’s an old naval outpost,” Reed answers without slowing down. “At least it used to be. Nobody uses this place for anything anymore. It was abandoned decades ago.”
We stop at the tower’s metal door. A thick padlock and a fresh set of chains are looped across it. Reed grabs the lock and tugs twice before cussing under his breath.
“Damn it! They changed the lock again.”
“Again? Does that happen a lot?” I ask, watching as he wrestles with the shiny padlock which is in stark contrast to the rusty metal door it’s meant to guard.
“It’s supposed to stay locked,” he replies, sounding almost proud. “But I’ve broken at least ten locks over the years. They gave up for a while and didn’t bother bolting this door for a year. But I guess they changed their mind now. Looks like my old man’s men finally got around to tightening security.” He bites down a curse and yanks again, but the lock only groans against the pressure, rattling the chains stubbornly in place. “This shit is not budging at all. You wanna help me break this damn thing?”
“I’m pretty sure they put that lock there for a reason. Breaking it would be illegal!” I protest.
Reed snorts and shakes his head. “That’s the point. It’s what makes it fun.”
Awesome. He brought me here to be an accessory to his crime.
I gape in utter disbelief as I watch the brute snatch up a fist-sized rock. He starts smashing it against the padlock like a damn caveman, swinging with reckless cracks that echo off the tower walls. I wince as the metal angrily clangs with each hit, the impact ringing sharp in the night air. He grunts. His shoulders flex while he repeatedly slams the rock down like he’s determined to beat the thing into submission.
Look at that… The son of the island’s naval commander is trying to break into military property with a rock. What a great role model.
“You know you’re committing a felony, right?” I say with a sigh.
“It’s not my first time.” Reed glances over with a taunt in his voice. “Are you just gonna stand there and look pretty? Or are you gonna help? Don’t tell me you’re scared to chip a nail?”
I click my tongue in mock disapproval, then casually crouch beside him, because apparently I’m now an accomplice.
“For someone who breaks rules for fun, your methods seriously need help.” I brush my fingers across the lock, ignoring his smug face.
“Think you can do better, Princess?” His brow rises.
I pull the hairpin out of my ponytail, letting my hair fall around my shoulders.
“Move,” I bark at him. Surprisingly, he does step back without arguing with me.
I set the rock back where he found it and work the pin through the mechanism. This padlock is bigger than the one I picked back in the restricted part of the estate library, but the pin slides into the mechanism after some coaxing. It takes longer than I want, but the moment it clicks open, I rise and flick the padlock into Reed’s waiting hand.
“Here you go.” I throw the huge lock at his feet. “And here I didn’t even break a nail.”
A wide smile splits his face. “You look sweet, but you’ve got the mind of a criminal.”
He pats the top of my head like I am some kind of pet he is proud of.
“Race you inside!”
“You’re so childish!” I shout as he bolts for a shattered window pane.
He dives through it with a laugh. I curse under my breath but chase after him, hiking up my hoodie so it does not snag on what remains of the glass. Inside, the old tower smells like dust and sea rot. This place is probably older than my mom. The walls are streaked with old graffiti and peeling paint. Reed shakes a flare stick from his backpack and cracks it. A red glow floods the narrow interior of the ground level, enough to illuminate the spiral staircase leading to the upper level of the tower.
“Whoever wins gets to make one request the loser has to follow,” he declares, already launching himself up the first steps.
“You’re on!” I reply, shooting after him. My shoes clang against the metal stairs as we climb two at a time. Reed is fast, but I am fueled by the thrill of beating him at his own game. I lunge for the top landing and slap my palm on the iron floor with a triumphant whoop.
“I won!” I pant, laughing as I lean forward with my hands braced on my knees to catch my breath.
He shoots me a mock glare, like a sore loser but shrugs it off.
“Fine. You win. Claim your prize later,” he says lazily. Although I can see a ghost of a smile on his lips.
He lowers himself to sit with his back against the cool metal wall. I drop beside him and catch my breath, trying not to look too smug about my victory. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a half-filled water bottle, flicking the cap with his thumb before offering it to me.
“Want a drink?” he asks.
I hesitate for only a second before taking it. The water slides down my throat and settles the leftover adrenaline in my chest better than the night air ever could.
“Ah, that’s better.” I toss him back the almost-empty bottle.
Reed sets the bottle aside and pulls a marker from his pocket. He uncaps it with his teeth, then begins scribbling something crude and lazy on the metal panel beside his shoulder. He begins to snicker and that’s when I realize what he’s doodling—a dick-shaped rocket with flames shooting out the bottom and a little speech bubble that says: “MISSION: DEEP SPACE — R.A.”
“You’re unbelievable,” I groan, half laughing, half horrified.
I lean back and sweep my eyes across the rusted panels and sun-bleached stone walls. There’s graffiti everywhere and some drawn with actual effort, but most of it is chaotic and stupid. I catch a stick figure with fangs chasing a terrified chicken. I snicker. There’s also a jagged crown floating above a butt and one sketch that looks like a wolf got flattened by a truck.
“You did all this?” I tilt my head at a particularly offensive mural featuring a throne, a sword, and what might be testicles.
“Most. But not all.” Reed grins and taps the rocket he just drew.
He fishes the marker out of his lap and holds it out to me like he’s offering a lit match.
“Go on. Start your criminal record.” He winks at me.
“Awesome, you’re not satisfied with us breaking into public property. Now, you want me to vandalize too?”
“You can’t trespass into public property without leaving your mark.” He jabs a thumb at the wall, smirking. “Come on, Tabitha…”
He’s such a bad influence. And it’s ridiculous how I let myself get influenced. I grab the pen from his hand and begin drawing a round-head alien beside his dick-shaped rocket illustration.
“This is Bob,” I mutter, drawing a round-headed alien with lopsided eyes. “He crash-landed here from some planet where all their spaceships look like dicks.”
Reed snorts. “Figures. Bet they’re all overcompensating.”
“He came to Earth for snacks,” I add, giving Bob stubby little arms and a sad face. “His home planet ran out of pudding cups.”
“What flavor?” Reed asks, way too into it.
“Banana, obviously.”
He laughs, then snatches the marker from me. “Nah, Bob’s not alone.” He draws a second alien beside mine—bigger, buffer, and weirdly angry. “This one’s his cousin, Chad. He’s here to help Bob steal vending machines.”
I’m already cracking up. “Why are they so jacked?”
“Gravity’s intense on their planet,” he says, matter-of-fact, adding a dumb-looking ray gun shaped like a slingshot. “You’d be ripped too.”