“Saw the truck. You steal it or buy it?” the second one asked.
“It’s one of Bonner’s, you asshole. His daddy runs a used car lot in Great Falls. I did the boy a favor once.”
“Oh, well. You want to keep it, or try to sell it to a local?” The Taggarts would have brought their big dualie, so it wasn’t like he had to have it.
“I don’t want it. Y’all can have it, iffn you want. Which one of you is which?”
The one in front grinned. “I’m Brian. That’s Chris. Adam headed to your place, to get it ready for you. Says he knows where the key is.”
“Thanks, boys.” He stared Chris in the eyes, then Brian. “Take me home, y’all? I’m so tired.”
“You bet. You need to hit the head?” They looked so much alike, and so much like their oldest triplet, Adam, who had helped Coke out more than once.
“No. I just want to get on my pony and ride.”
He just wanted to be home.
“We can sure do that, Coke. Come on.” Brian stayed to help him up, and Chris got the doors, and God it felt good to sit in the big back of the king cab and not have to be all stiff and hold his arm out.
They’d brought him pillows so he could rest, lean back and breathe. “Thank you, boys.”
“No worries, Coke.”
“You just relax, and we’ll get you home.”
“You’re good to me.” Hell, Adam and Brian’d been…more than just good to him a couple three times.
“Anything for you, Coke.” ‘Course, he’d helped the Taggart boys out a lot, too. There’d been a time, after their daddy died, that the ranch was about to go down, and Coke had loaned out his nest egg…
He closed his eyes, sighing softly. He was going to sleep it off. He had eight hours to do nothing but rest.
Chapter Thirty
Dillon wiped his hands on his jeans, afraid to look at the inside of the mailbox. Adam Taggart had told him the key would be there, taped to the roof of the big metal can, but he was terrified it wouldn’t be. Oh, he could hop the fence, leave his rental right there by the road, but that was stupid, even in central Texas.
It would be so much better if he could just…see. “Look, stupid,” he said out loud, startling himself a little.
Sheepish, Dillon finally opened the box, got Coke’s mail and the key, just like Adam had said.
Adam had also screamed at him, saying, “I know it’s a stupid mistake, honey. Get your ass down there and sort it out with him. He needs you.”
Thank God for Adam.
He closed the gate behind him and hopped into the little Subaru, driving down to park beside the house, beside Coke’s big diesel.
Gripping the steering wheel, he sat there for a long moment, breathing through his nose. At least his shoulder hadstopped throbbing every time he moved. That would help when he had to hold Coke down and make him listen.
When he finally did get out of the car, his knees shook. This was the most important thing he’d ever had to do. So he’d better make it good. Dillon went around to the back of the house, through the barbecue patio, past the pool. Fuck, he loved that pool.
He was pretty glad Coke didn’t have dogs. Yet. Coke needed hounds. Maybe wee ones, like bassets or beagles…
He let himself in the sliding glass door, his boots hitting the tile floor with little thuds.
“Coke?”
He heard a thud, a crash. “I… Somebody there?”
“Coke!” Dillon careened through the house, heading for the bedroom, trying hard not to panic. If Coke fell…
