“You won’t call anyone.” He tucked the phone away. “And you won’t leave the safe house until I’ve got the situation under control. Then I’ll send you outta town.”
“It’s my situation to control.” Her voice rose in pitch. “This is all about me.”
“It may have just been about you, but you and Ty are Sinners now so the Sinners will protect you.” Well, not totally true. Sinner protection usually only extended to family, old ladies, sweet butts and house mamas. They’d be stretched thin if they had to look out for girlfriends and hook-ups, too. But Evie was … Evie. And he’d been incredibly relieved when Jagger gave the order to protect her. If he hadn’t, Zane would have done the unthinkable, and turned in his cut.
“I can’t just hide and wait for things to happen.” Evie twisted her hair around her finger. “The shop was half mine, and I’ll have to deal with the fire, the insurance, and the employees who need work to pay their bills. You can’t just send us away. Ty needs to see you.”
“Fuck, Evie.” Zane slammed a fist on the dashboard as soap slid down the windshield. “We’re not playing games here. You’re in danger. Your life at the shop is gone. I can’t protect you if you’re running around.”
“Don’t shout at Mom.” Ty leaned over the seat, his face now pale and drawn. “And don’t hurt her.” Without warning, he climbed over the seat and curled into Evie’s lap, his arms around her as if he was protecting her, while seeking her comfort at the same time. “No one is allowed to hurt her again.”
Again? Zane stilled, his momentary anger forgotten. “Who hurt your mother?”
“Mark.” Ty’s voice was muffled by Evie’s shirt. “Mark shouted and broke things and once he pushed her down the stairs and she almost died. I saw it.”
“He pushed you?” Zane’s world narrowed to one single purpose, and it had nothing to do with Viper or the Jacks. Nothing mattered save for the fact that someone had hurt his Evie and was still walking the streets.
“Just forget about it.” Evie hugged Ty, stroking the back of his head with her hand. “He was drunk and it only happened once. We left the next day. That part of my life is done. It was years ago.”
“Fucking cowardly piece of shit. He still in Stanton?” Zane sucked in a breath of soap-scented air and almost choked on the humidity.
“You’re going to run through that fifty dollars pretty damn quick,” Evie snapped, cringing at her hypocrisy. “And yes, he’s in Stanton, which is why we left. He and I are done. I divorced him and started a new life. It’s over.”
Zane gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turned white. “Once we got this situation fixed, I’ll be heading up to Stanton. Pay him a visit.”
“No, you won’t.”
“The fuck I will.”
Ty tightened his grip around Evie and his body trembled. Zane bit back the next words he’d intended to say. Damn. He’d scared the boy, and from what he’d just seen, Ty had been scared enough. He and Jagger had definitely pegged Mark right. And the situation screamed for justice. Sinner style.
“Maybe we should go to Hawaii instead of the moon,” Evie said, stroking Ty’s head. “At the rate Zane’s going, it should only take a few days.”
“How ’bout I just pay for the vacation and then swear all I like?”
Evie’s lips quivered with repressed laughter. Ty turned his head and met Zane’s gaze. Then his face broke into a smile.
That was the moment Zane knew.
He was home. And nothing would take him away.
*
The noise woke him. A soft murmur that he couldn’t identify as a threat, but which made him uneasy just the same.
Zane pulled his weapon from under the cushion and sat up on the couch, trying to pinpoint the sound. The safe house, an open plan apartment above Sparky’s garage, afforded little space to hide, which left the bedroom, the small office they’d fixed up for Ty, or the bathroom, as the source of the noise.
Not bothering with his shirt, he made his way through the sparsely furnished apartment. Bathroom clear. Ty sleeping soundly on the camp bed they’d set up beside the desk. Kitchen empty. He paused outside Evie’s room and heard the sound again. Then he pushed open the door.
He’d never seen Evie cry. Through high school break-ups, verbal and emotional abuse from her alcoholic mother, and the longing for her absent father, she’d always held fast. But now, she sat on the cold, wood floor, her back against the wall, the phone pressed to her ear, and tears streaking her cheeks. Her eyes widened when she saw him and she murmured into the phone. “I’ve got company. Have to go.”