“North Point, bonehead.” He lets go and signs,I’m sorry for what happened at school. Complicated.
The day he left with Kline. Yeah, that kinda fucked me up, but it wasn’t his fault. I’m getting the impression he was being the protective one. Maybe he was worried about Cooper.
“It’s fine, Griff. I shouldn’t be so overbearing.”
You’re my big brother,he signs, rolling his eyes.
Cooper watches us, body stiff, and it’s clear he feels like an outsider. Griff notices, too.
“Cooper needs to return to North Point,” Griff says in a hushed voice.
“How?” Griff points to Tate, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing as I imagine how well that’ll go over with him. “I’ll be lucky if I’m going back to North Point after this.”
I’ve been mentally preparing myself for life at the brewery, where he’ll probably keep me under lock and key, making Ethan babysit me.
Griff shakes his head. “Just ask him. He’ll give you whatever you want.”
Tate won’t give me whatever I want. Will he? Griff seems sure of himself. Whatever he saw tonight has him convinced. I turn my head to watch Tate with Kline. Kline seems to be pleading with him and losing. Tate stands tall, one hand in his pocket, exuding the confidence of a tiger. I see if I can read his body language beyond what he’s trying to sell to everyone else.
His eyes pinch the smallest amount, but I clock it. He’s exhausted. And then I remember what he probably has in that pocket, that creepy glass doll eye. I’d bet the entire Savage fortune that he’s fidgeting with it to prevent himself from strangling Kline.His emotional support glass doll eye.
Now I want to see if Griff is right.
But also, I’m not just a tagalong, I’m Tate’shusband. He’s essentially an underground kingpin. Shouldn’t I be a co-kingpin or something? I can make the decision, and I say we’re taking Cooper with us. Fuck Kline.
“Babe.” Tate turns his head, ignoring whatever Kline was saying to him in favor of me. He smiles, probably because I called him babe in front of everyone. “Coop’s coming with us.”
“Cooper is not coming with you,” Kline says.
“My husband has fucking spoken, Kline,” Tate says, and my insides are as warm as a mug of hot chocolate hugs on a rainy-ass day. Kline, well, he’s probably going to fall over. The man doesn’t look so good. He should sit down.
Kline leans against the wall, in no state to fight us. Whoa. The man is on his last shred of endurance. He must have been fighting to keep it together. Griff heads over to him with a chair. Kline accepts his help.
What the fuck is going on?
“We’re going back to North Point, sir,” Griff says quietly. “We’ll come home for the s-s-summer.”
Kline gives a reluctant nod. I want to argue, because this isn’t Griff’s home, but where is his home now? I have one with Tate. Our father, or, I guess, my father, is also here, locked up in the Kline dungeon—I’m assuming there’s a dungeon. Okay, maybe I can see why Griff doesn’t know where he should go. But I figured he’d either live at home with Rosaline or move in with Tate and me. Or, hell, I’d get Tate to buy him his own condo.
That reminds me. We somehow have to tell Rosaline about this or figure out a way to keep this from her. That’s a problem for later.
I check on McKinnon. He’s asleep on Luke. Of course he is. This motherfucker. Not a care in the world. Everything works out for him.
We set Griff and Cooper in the living room at the condo. Luke and Ace take the spare room after I apologized to him for nearly beating him to death.
He shrugged. “Meh, we were on the ice, and I totally plan to have my revenge. Luke might kill you once he’s normal again, though.”
Of course, McKinnon was unbothered. Does anything faze that guy?
Luke was snoring with a cozy smile on his face on the bed in the spare room. He’s … large, which seems to be a VanCourt trait. I may need Tate’s help with that one.
There’s a loud throat clear from behind me where I’m helping Griff and Cooper set up for the night. Tate’s there, leaning against the door, his hand extended for me. A wordless order to go to him.
He’s come to collect me.
Goosebumps break out over my flesh.
Like a magnet, I gravitate toward him, taking his hand, and he pulls me into the bedroom. He rips my shirt off, then he puts me in his favorite place, trapped against the wall.
