“He really is a good guy,” Tak said, studying her, every bit as intently as she studied him.
He smiled, and she reciprocated. “What kind of a name is Takoda Keenan anyway?”
“Takoda is Sioux. It means friend to everyone. Keenan is Irish. Means descendent of the faithful one. Basically, I’m mankind’s soul mate, and you’re trying to change the subject.”
“There is no subject.” Gray yawned wide enough to break her face in half.
“We were talking about Chase.”
She sighed and closed her eyes to avoid his. “Like fuck we were.”
“He saved my life when I was four. He hasn’t let me go since. Do you understand?” A rustle and a click followed, and the light seeping through her closed lids winked out.
“Hmph.Persistent fucker.”
Tak laughed softly in the dark. “So youdounderstand. And by now, you know he doesn’t quit. It’s why he’s been putting it off for so long.”
“Putting what off?” Jesus, she was her own worst enemy. She should be shutting this conversation down instead of asking questions. She didn’t want to discuss Chase Mackenzie. What she wanted—what she needed—was to remember why she steered clear of military men to begin with. Men like Chase were hard on the heart, and hers had already been broken too many times.
“Settling his affairs with Holly. He’s not in love with her. He didn’t know it, but he’s been waiting for you.”
Gray’s ticker attempted to bust out of her chest. Painful, annoying, and ridiculous under the circumstances. She’d known Chase all of two days. He meant nothing to her. Less than nothing. Zero. Zip. Na— “If he’s not in love with her and they’re not engaged, why is she calling?”
Tak sighed. “Because he’s an idiot. He’ll explain in the morning. If you let him.”
“But, Peter Hoyt—”
“Is an asshole who derives pleasure from hurting other people. Please, don’t let him take away your chance at happiness.”
Oh God. When it came to love and family, Gray had no clue what happiness felt like. Her mother had loved her father. Look where that had landed her. Alone, raising an unruly daughter and waiting for phone calls that seldom came.
Nope. Whether Chase was still engaged or not made little difference, she’d be far better off keeping the promises she’d made to herself—no married-to-the-military fuckers—ever.
“We belong to him, Grace. Chase won’t ever leave me. And he won’t ever leave you. Not on purpose.”
Gray sighed. “I don’t belong to anyone.” Ignoring her aches and pains, she flopped onto her stomach and scrunched Tak’s pillow beneath her head, tucking her arm around it for good measure.
“You do now,” he said quietly like it was a matter of fact and nothing more.
She would have argued, but too tired to keep up the fight, she shoved her heart back in its cage and locked the fucker up tight. “Night,” she mumbled into the dark.
“Night,” he whispered. “Sleep well.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Adam wantedto kill Francisco and Ryerson on the spot. Sadly, a public execution in downtown Washington wouldn’t go over well with local police. “Tell me again you don’t know what happened.”
They stood half a block from the scene of the car accident that had claimed Jackson Lowe’s life. Three more losers huddled together on the outskirts of a crowd of rubberneckers, getting their jollies from someone else’s sloppy ending.
“He just took off. Don’t know what spooked him,” Francisco said. “I swear. He had no clue we were on to him.”
Ryerson remained silent, sporting a look of boredom Adam wanted to erase with close-proximity precision. They were lying. He didn’t need a big bang PhD. to figure that shit out.
It meant one of two things.
Francisco and Ryerson had messed up, and aware of the threat they represented, Jackson had offed himself accidentally. Or, the bastards were following orders that weren’t coming from him, and Jackson had been assisted face-first into the body bag being loaded into the coroner’s van.
Adam’s gut told him to go with what hid behind door number two. Unless his instincts were malfunctioning, he was looking at a matching set of double-crossers. Unfortunately for his trigger-happy finger, he had to leave the rats in play.
