“Make the call,” McElroy said.
Josh pulled out his phone and called Ham, who answered groggily, still sleepy from being up so late last night. “Not you again.”
“Sorry, buddy. I’m headed for jail. I need you to look out for Tory.”
“Jesus, man. I thought you said nothing happened last night.”
“I said nothing much.”
Ham sighed. “I should have figured. Whatever you need to do, don’t worry about Tory. I’m on my way.” Ham hung up the phone and Josh turned to the cops. “Mind if I finish getting dressed?”
“Make it fast,” McElroy said.
Josh started for the adjoining room and the older cop followed. Josh noticed he’d unsnapped his holster, letting his hand rest on the butt of his pistol. If Josh had wanted to disarm him, the gun wouldn’t have mattered. With any luck, those days were past.
Tory hurried after them. “What happened last night?” she asked as Josh grabbed a bright blue, Dallas Cowboys T-shirt and pulled it on over his head.
“Damon and I had a chat. I told him not to bother you again. That didn’t sit well. He swung at me. I swung back. Then I left.”
“That’s it?”
He sat down to pull on his socks and boots. “Pretty much.”
He didn’t tell her that afterward he’d been too wound up to come straight back to the room. That his confrontation with Damon, thinking about him with Tory, thinking about the beating Bridger had given her, had pushed him right to the edge.
He’d left the Jeep in the hotel parking lot and walked down the block to the Silver Spur Saloon, drank three beers and a shot of Jack.
Afterward, he’d been calm enough to come up to his own room, thank Ham, and send him home. But the edginess hadn’t completely left him, the powerful need for Tory he hadn’t expected to feel and didn’t really like.
It wasn’t until he had taken her, claimed her in some primal way, that the restless feeling had left him and he had been able to sleep.
He looked over at her now. She was biting her lower lip, worry stamped into every line of her face. He felt bad about that, but Damon had to be dealt with. He didn’t regret what he had done.
“I know an attorney here in town,” she said. “But he specializes in family law. I’m not sure—”
Josh tossed her his cell phone. “Call Linc. Explain things, tell him what’s going on. He’ll know what to do.”
He had phoned his brother last night before he’d gone to see Damon, had asked him to send the jet back to pick them up. It was scheduled to arrive at noon. Way it was looking, that might have to change.
“Time’s up, Cain. Turn around and put your hands behind you.”
Josh did as he was told and McElroy locked the cuffs in place. “Stay here till Ham shows up,” he said to Tory as McElroy nudged him forward.
Tory caught his arm. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this.”
His pulse shot up. “I told you, dammit, this isn’t your fault. No one’s to blame but Bridger.”
“Let’s go.” Rodriguez pushed him out of the room.
Chapter Nineteen
Tory had never met Lincoln Cain. She wasn’t prepared for the big, handsome, powerful man who strode across the tarmac in her direction.
“Looks like you’re in good hands,” Ham said from beside her. He had helped her pack up both hotel rooms, taking Josh’s holstered pistol from the nightstand and stuffing it into the satchel that held his clothes. Tory had checked out of the hotel and Ham had driven her in the rented Jeep out to the airport. He was going to catch a cab back to get his car, still parked in the hotel lot.
“Call me if you need me,” he said.
“Thanks for everything, Ham.”
