“Do I need to say it?” Tag asked, his jaw clenched so he spoke through his teeth.
“I’m fired.” He was surprised he’d lasted so long anyway. He knew he should put her on the floorboard, but it probably wasn’t clean down there and Phoebe was always very neat. He couldn’t stand the thought of her body lying there. So he hauled her into his lap and tried to look like he didn’t give a shit.
“No, you dumbass. I can’t fire you because you would be dead in like fifteen fucking minutes. What the fuck was that? Which Army did you serve in, son, because it sure as fuck wasn’t the one I did. My goddamn COs taught me not to walk into the freaking bullet.”
And Tag was off. He was yelling and cussing and there was a certain comfort in it. Big Tag only got quiet when he didn’t care anymore. Jesse had scared the hell out of him and this was his punishment. He would take it.
There was a lull in the yelling and he looked up. Everyone was staring at him so he supposed it was time to say something. “I’m really sorry.”
“Sorry? You’re fucking sorry? You would have been fucking dead.” Tag was off again.
Jesse looked down at the woman in his lap. Her wig slipped and he could see that she’d put her hair in something that kept it close to her head. He didn’t like it. She was prettier without the makeup and the shiny black hair. He wasn’t sure why, but he needed to see her real hair. He slid his hands over her hairline, sliding the wig and the little cap off. Her hair immediately flowered out like it had been desperate to get away from the confines of the wig. Her hair tumbled over his arm. Her face turned up and he could see she wasn’t completely out. Her eyes opened slightly and she looked like a sleepy kitten.
“Jesse. My Jesse. Good dream.” She curved into him, rubbing her cheek against his chest. She moaned. “He’s so loud.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle because Tag really was loud.
Her eyes closed again and the van got quiet. Suddenly Jesse could feel three pairs of eyes on him.
“She’s an operative, Jesse,” Adam said quietly. “Very well trained.”
“She nearly killed me,” Jake complained.
Tag shook his head. “It’s not even broken. Fatherhood made Dean grow a pussy.”
Phoebe frowned, her eyes glassy. “Pussies aren’t weak. I’d like to see Tag shove a baby out of his penis.”
He’d never seen her drunk. She wouldn’t ever have more than one margarita or glass of wine. She seemed like a fun drunk.
Adam laughed and shook his head when Tag sent him a forbidding look. “Sorry, Tag. She’s got a point.”
“She should be out,” Tag complained. “You didn’t dose her properly.”
“I gave her enough to put down a freaking horse,” Adam replied. “Which means she’s likely been taught to counter the effects, and we all know that’s what the pros do.”
“She’s involved in something we don’t understand,” Alex said, sympathy in his eyes. “You can’t pretend she’s Phoebe Graham anymore. You have to change your thinking about her. She isn’t the woman you care about. That woman doesn’t exist.”
“And you’re a goddamn idiot for thinking she did,” Tag said.
Phoebe’s legs started moving. Her head came up slightly and her eyes were about half open. “Fuck you, Tag. He’s not dumb…not stupid. You stupid. Dumbass.”
She sounded so drunk and yet the words were sweet to Jesse. Maybe he was stupid, but she was drugged. She didn’t have any defenses but she was defending him. What was he supposed to do with that?
He’d heard her yelling at him. He’d heard her telling him to get down.
What the fuck was he supposed to believe?
He couldn’t help himself. His arms tightened around her.
Tag’s eyes closed and there was no way to miss how his fists clenched. “You know I don’t think you’re stupid, right?”
He knew it on an intellectual level. “Sure.”
Taggart ran a frustrated hand through his head. “Damn it, Jesse. I think everyone’s a dumbass. Ask Adam.”
“He’s an asshole,” Adam agreed. “He’s kind of a bully, but the dumb kind who pays really well and watches your back when you need it. I still fucking hate him. And love him. At the end of the day, he’s my brother. My brother whose shampoo I will change for Nair when he expects it least.”
Tag sighed and ignored Adam. “My point is, you don’t get to do what you did. Goddamn it, Jesse, you practically begged her to shoot you.”
“And she didn’t.” She’d yelled something at him. She’d run from her room and he hadn’t noticed a gun in her hand. He’d glimpsed her before Simon had used his massive British body to tackle him down to the concrete.