My duffel is on the floor next to the bed, and I open it to grab another shirt, my Stony’s shirt is pushed to the side, and guilt squeezes me. Tuck told him I couldn’t come back for a bit, and I hate that I left him and Sammy in a bind. I don’t care if Trudyis inconvenienced, but Sammy became my friend, and Stony was always nice to me.
Then I think of my car - the reason I was working at Stony’s in the first place. In just a few weeks, I’ve pivoted so far off the path I was on that my head is still spinning. I feel like the balls I’ve been juggling for the last six months have multiplied, but I’m losing track of them because of the other people involved now.
It’s almost scarier than it felt to be on the move all the time, especially since I’m having to put my trust in other people. People I don’t really know. I trust Tuck, but now the FBI is involved, and it’s so much bigger than I could have ever imagined. If I think about it too much, it overwhelms me, and my head spins.
I smile as I think of Tuck. He’s been nothing but good to me, even when he was being his grumpy self. There I was thinking he didn’t like me, and he was leaving big tips, waiting in the rain to give me a ride home, sticking around after hours to make sure I was safe, standing between me and a gun.
What kind of man does that? I already know the answer, one of the good ones. He’s been there for me when other men would have tucked and run, he’s been the rock I can lean on, even before he showed me his soft side. My Grams would tell me to ‘hang on and don’t let go’.
My laptop pinging with an incoming message pulls me from my thoughts. I quickly pull my sweatshirt over my head and sit on the edge of the bed with my computer on my knees to pull up my messages. Hopefully, it’s a new editing job.
My blood runs cold when I read the message from the same email address as the other day.
HEY BEAUTIFUL. MEET ME AT THE GAS STATION ON HIGHWAY 20 NEXT TO THE TURNPIKE TOMORROW AT 3P.LEAVE THE HICK AT HIS HOUSE. DON’T MAKE ME COME GET YOU.
My stomach turns as I read the message. Matt used to call me beautiful all the time, and I learned to hate it. He usually said it when he wanted something or when he was trying to soothe my anger for whatever he’d done to hurt my feelings.
Rhys gave me his business card yesterday and told me to call him if Matt makes contact again. Why does he want me to meet him? Setting my laptop on the bedside table, I slide down the side of the bed, pulling my knees to my chest and holding my head in my hands.
I don’t even hear the door open, but I hear boots rush across the floor before Tuck is squatting in front of me on his good leg, his bad leg is less bent and taking less weight. Jerking my head up, I’m met with worried eyes, the Clint Eastwood squint on his face.
He sets his hand on my knee. “What happened?”
Taking a deep breath, I sigh as I reach up to get my laptop off the bedside table and hand it to him. His eyebrows pull together as he takes it, and it doesn’t take long for the anger to show as his eyes move across the screen.
“I don’t know what to do. Do I call Rhys?” I stand up, his eyes following me, and walk to the other side of the room. “Will he want me to meet him?” I start pacing, my fingers pressed to my temples on each side. “What does he even want? Will I have to go by myself?” My voice is getting shriller with each question. “I don’t want to meet him by myself. He’s never been physical, but his message sounds like a threat. How do I know he won’t try to hurt me?”
A growl rumbles at my side. “Nora.” A large, calloused hand grabs my arm and spins me around to pull me into him.
Oof. Air rushes from my chest when I bump into him, and my palms land on his pecs, my head tipped back to look at him.One arm goes around my waist to hold me to him; the other slips into the hair on my nape.
“You won’t do anything alone. Whatever you have to do, it will be where I can see you.” His tone is possessive. “Even if you can’t see me.”
My heart is beating double-time just thinking about facing Matt, and a shiver of fear creeps up my spine. “I don’t know if I can do this without you. Promise you’ll be there.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “Sugar, where you go, I go.”
Later in the afternoon, we’re sitting in the family room with Rhys and a guy he introduced as Special Agent Swan. They are sitting on the big leather couch, and I’m perched on the edge of one of the matching chairs. Tuck is next to me, sitting on the arm of the chair, his long legs spread out in front of him.
My laptop is in Swan’s lap and is connected to some device sitting on the big wooden coffee table between us. He’s tapping away on the keys, and Rhys is talking on his cell to the FBI in D.C.
Leaning against the door frame between the entryway and the family room are Mason and Jax, both have their arms crossed and look every bit the intimidating military men. All three of them look completely comfortable in this environment.
I’m kind of turned on by how hot Tuck looks next to me.
The three men are intently listening to the one-sided conversation Rhys is having.
“Highway 20… Affirmative… Fifteen hundred hours… Rendezvous at twelve hundred.” His eyes flick up to Tuck when he says, “Will advise relax readiness.”
Tuck’s leg touching my arm is the only physical sign of tension, but I can feel it coming off him in waves. I’m not in the military, but it sounds to me like the FBI is telling Tuck to stay out of it.
Swiveling in my seat, I tip my head back to look at him, my heart beating faster. His angry Clint Eastwood squint is directed at Rhys. Without looking at me, he uncrosses his arms and slides his palm up my spine to cup my neck, gently squeezing to offer comfort.
After a few more clipped responses, Rhys drops his cell on the table. His eyes move between the three team guys in front of him. “The D.C. office has ordered that you stand down and let them handle this.”
“Last I heard, I don’t take orders from the FBI, or any other alphabet outfit.” Tuck growls.
Rhys takes a deep breath and rolls his head from one shoulder to the other. “It’s an ongoing investigation, and they are concerned that your presence could cause a problem.”
