Page 68 of Floodgates

My explanation came out in staccato bursts—“And I said and he said, and I said and he said”—until the whole thing was out. The baby part was too much for him, and I found myself relating that piece to Eric instead. I had no idea Matt’s beloved could swear like a sailor.

When Matt got back on the phone, after he breathed into a paper bag for several minutes, I got to the part about the psycho trying to kill me. Since it became an episode of Criminal Minds at that point, he calmed down. Police drama, he understood.

After I got off the phone with Matt, I went downstairs and found my dad and Alex having a couple of Coronas in the kitchen while they fixed dinner together. Breckin was asleep on the couch, with Bo lying down beside it, as if guarding him, and Evan was watching Monday Night Football. It seemed so normal that I almost lost it. I went directly to the back door and walked outside to my father’s flower garden. It was nice outside, and I was warm enough in a long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans, and socks. I took a seat on a chaise and stretched out my legs.

“Can I come out here and sit with you?”

When I turned, I found Cord staring at me with a beer in his hand.

“Sure.”

He sat down in front of me so I had to sit up, cross-legged, as he faced me, his own long, muscular legs draped over the sides.

“You all right?”

I shrugged.

He reached over and brushed my hair out of my face. “I like seeing your eyes, and this got a little long, huh?”

“It’s gotta be cut. It’s on my list.”

“Or you could leave it,” he rumbled, sliding his fingers down my cheek.

I grunted.

“So, listen, I wanna talk to you about Vermont.”

I exhaled a deep breath. “I’ll go.”

He scowled as he studied me.

“What? That’s what you want, right?”

“I do, yeah, but why the sudden change?”

“Like you said, I don’t want anyone near my dad or Alex or Evan. I can’t have that.”

He nodded.

“And you.”

“Me?” He was surprised—it was clear in his voice.

“Yeah. You’re protecting me, I don’t want to just stay here and have you with a giant bull’s-eye on your chest. I need to do something.”

“I should be the least of your worries.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not,” I said softly. “I need to do whatever I can to get this over with. I mean, I know you’re coming with me and you’ll be in danger too, but there’s no changing that. To fight with you and not go, that draws everything out much longer and increases the chances of you getting hurt.”

“Jesus, Tracy.”

I unfolded my legs, turned, and got up. I put a hand on his shoulder to brace myself as I stood. “Can we talk about all of this later?”

“Whatever you want.”

“When do you want to go?”

“The sooner the better.”