Dillon sat there a moment, blinking, before shooting up off the bed. “I have to find Coke, Dave. He’s… He’s hurt. Somewhere in Montana, I’m sure. You have to help me.”
“What? Who was that? What thehellis going on?”
“It was Jason. He said Coke was in the hospital.” Oh, God. Please. Please let Coke be okay. “He heard you and… Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“What? Coke? Call Nate. He’s there with him, right?” David flipped his phone open. “I’ll call Ace.”
“Right. Nate.” He hated to admit it, but he didn’t have Nate programmed. “David, what’s his number?”
David glanced over at him, shook his head. “Dork. He’s goingto be fine.”
“Don’t. Don’t try to calm me down, not until I know what’s going on.” He didn’t care if he was being a dork. Coke hadn’t even said goodbye, Jason thought… Well, who knew what Jason thought, but he knew what Bax thought.
David pushed buttons until Nate’s number came up. “Here you go, Lonnie.”
“Thank you.” He reached out and squeezed David’s knee. The man was a good friend. Then he called Nate, praying the man would answer.
“What the fuck do you want, you two-timing bastard?”
“Nate? Nate. Where’s Coke? Is he okay? What happened?” Oh, thank God. Someone who knew something. Nate had to. He’d been there.
“Why the fuck would I tell you? You go back to playing slap and tickle in the bath with David. Coke don’t need you. We take care of our own.”
“Nate!” He actually sat back on his butt, sorta blown out of the water. No way had Jason called Nate so fast. Even if Jason had, there was no way Nate would be so shitty without knowing the whole story. “I’m not slapping or tickling. What the hell?”
“Don’t play stupid. We werethereSunday night. Me and Coke both. You asshole. And that silly, stupid son of a bitch Coke didn’t have the sense to cuss you. He… I… Jesus, he was coming to apologize to you for lettingyouget hurt!”
Sunday night he’d been so doped up he had no idea what he was doing, and he sure couldn’t have been doing that. “Nate, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Dave brought me back, sure, but I fell asleep waiting for Coke. Alone.”
“Right. Is that before or after Dave-O got you melty,Lonnie?” Nate sighed. “I gotta go. Surgeon’s coming.”
Then that phone line went dead.
Goddamnit.
Surgeon. Lonnie. Slap and tickle.
Dillon stared at the phone, then looked at David, feeling like he might just keel over. “Call Ace. Please? I need to go with you to the airport, but I need to know where Coke is.”
“I’ll go with you, man. Let me make some phone calls. You… You sit there and worry.”
“Okay.” He could do that. David couldn’t come with him. That would just make things worse. Besides, the man had a wife to go home to, and Dillon had a sneaking suspicion she was pregnant.
Still, if anyone could find out what he needed to know in the damned closed-mouth cowboy community, it was David. They’d figure it out.
There really wasn’t any other option.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hurt.
Every bit of him hurt so bad he couldn’t barely stand it.
Coke tried to open his eyes, tried to move his…
His head.
Something in the back of his neck screamed like a whore, and he went stiff, that pain deep and desperate and sickeningly familiar.
