“Dude, Steele, you saw the guy on Monday—”
“And I’m sure he’ll make a great customer, but you’re telling me that a guy that drove through Santa Maria will give us money and a cache of guns? Was he secretly a Nigerian prince?”
More laughter broke out. Steele and Garrett shared a high-five. The only person who wasn’t laughing, who was listening to me closely, was Zack, but he wasn’t exactly looking to support me, either.
“Shit, man, it happens,” Steele said. “Don’t feel so bad. Have a beer, play some darts with us, tell us who you’re slamming recently, and let’s forget the whole thing happened.”
Tara…
I fucking wish.
“The whole reason he wants to help is because I helped Elizabeth and Tara.”
The entire room went deathly silent.
“What?” Steele said, concern on his face. “I thought—”
“That incident about a week ago?” I said, desperately trying to save face. “Where I got hit in the face and bailed out by a biker? Remember? He said he wanted to help because I was willing to risk a lot to help her, I mean, them.”
I had to choose my next words almost too carefully.
“That guy came and would have shot the Bandits if he knew they were the bad guys,” I said. “We…”
I can’t let them know that Tara and Elizabeth are coming to town daily now.
“We got lucky that the Rogers girls escaped injury last week. But the Bandits are growing in numbers and getting more aggressive. Sheriff Davis isn’t doing anything about it, nor will he until he doesn’t have the power. We have a very limited window right now where we have a fucking gift. A man who wants to help, who has resources and knowledge. But if we let this slip to the wayside, we are fucked. The Bandits know we’re the only ones in town who will fight back. They will not let us get away with only a few beatings here and there.”
The entire room now listened to me as Zack had. Good. It was about damn time even the jaded ones got some sense into them.
“Do we need to do anything for right now?” Mason asked.
“He said he’d get back to us in a couple weeks,” I said. “My guess is he needs to get the money and resources organized. So no. But…”
My mind drifted to Tara telling me I could be so much more than a gas station attendant. I thought about the protection I could provide her—the kind of protection that didn’t require my presence at all times. I wanted to believe in a future in which we could see each other without worry…
This isn’t like last time.
This isn’t like with what happened all those years ago.
When you couldn’t protect her. Now you can.
“I already told Cole that I’m in,” I said. “The rest of you can join or not. I don’t really fucking care. I’m not fucking up again. I will not stay back and make the same mistake I did eight years ago.”
I’d made my point. The invite was out there, and they knew I was not fucking around.
I left.
Tara
Ipicked up Brock at his apartment the next morning, and he looked more rugged than before. Part of it was easy to pick out—he hadn’t shaved since I’d last seen him, and that guy grew out facial hair faster than anyone I knew.
But part of it was something a little less concrete. Something had happened in that conversation with the other guy that had made him… I wanted to say more determined? More focused?
He was distant and silent, but I was used to him being that way because he didn’t want to face reality. Now, he seemed a little too focused on reality. So much so, in fact, that aside from a quick “hey” when he got in the car, we didn’t say a word for the first half of the ride over to the office.
But my patience and curiosity could only last for so long.
“How was your conversation last night? With…”
