Page 30 of Pieces of You

Tate Madden

Time had never passed so slowly.

The house had been invaded by a nervous energy since Master Greer had left, and it had only increased when Colt announced we had good reason to believe Shay was alive.

He didn’t offer any details in his updates. Maybe it was because Greer didn’t share much. Maybe it was because Colt kept some things private. Who knew. But these past two days had been filled with theories and speculations on whereabouts, outcomes, and connecting news stories to the Tenleys’ operation.

It was called an actual operation, like it was some action movie.

I couldn’t sit still. Mom had offered to watch the girls again, thank fuck, so that I could sit here in the club area and bounce my knees restlessly.

Everyone needed a hobby.

Kingsley came out once he was off work.

Jack and Franklin stopped by with dinner for everyone. Literally, they’d catered a bunch of food from a nearby Italian place, so the house smelled like oregano and Parmesan. One by one, members emerged from the kitchen with bowls of pasta, bread, and pizza.

I wasn’t hungry, but I fetched a plate for Lee.

He was being patient with me.

I hadn’t reached his limit yet, but I could sense I was closing in on it. At which point, he’d probably force me to speak to Nathan again. Who had fancier degrees than I gave him credit for, and I could acknowledge that once Shay was home and I was able to un-fucking-clench.

How could people eat?!

I didn’t get it. I felt too jittery and frazzled.

The knowledge that Shay was alive and possibly okay-ish had lifted the brats’ spirits, so maybe it was their energy that rubbed me the wrong way. Because a lot could go wrong, dammit. This wasn’t some nice little rescue scenario where FBI agents and local law enforcement got all the bad guys and saved Shay, the woman—Marisa—and the little girl. Blake was her name. No, this was some rogue shit where former soldiers and private military contractors went in, guns blazing.

At least, that was the impression I had. I mean, Ty and Colt had equipped Greer with something that went on a weapon so he could see clearer and detect enemies easier. If that didn’t scream combat, nothing did.

I stared at Colt. He sat on one of the sofas with Mr. West. Both with bowls of pasta, both with their phones.

Come on. Say something.

We hadn’t received an update today.

I couldn’t try to read the expressions of Archie, Corey, and Sloan either, because they weren’t here. They were home with the kids. They’d wanted to isolate themselves a bit while they waited for their man to return.

Man, was I gonna bawl my eyes out when this was over. I felt as if every muscle in my body was tense.

I stiffened further when I saw Ty and Lane arrive, and it set me in motion. I was out of my seat and walking out to the lobby before they’d decided which direction to go, kitchen or club.

“Hey, guys,” I said, clearing my throat. “Can I talk to you, Lane?”

He looked a little confused, maybe because I was putting too much urgency into the air, but he nodded. “Sure.”

We headed out to the front porch, and I gestured to the little seating area.

“What’s up?” he asked, sitting down on a sofa.

I picked the same one but put a couple feet between us. No need to get all up in his face.

“Well, I was wondering about you,” I admitted. “It’s none of my business, but since I know you and Ty have something with the Tenleys, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to…I don’t know, be there for you? I don’t know how many others are in the loop or if you’re getting the support you need—or if you even need it. But I wanted to ask.”

He mustered a hesitant smile. “I just gotta push through. I don’t care who knows about us. I mean, we didn’t intend for our relationship to be a secret—we’re just…you know.”

“Private about things.”