Sweet Dreams (Colorado #2)

“Shee-it,” Pop muttered. “What’s happenin’ ‘round here and they say forty-eight hours? Got their heads in their asses.”


“I’ll come with you,” Wood offered and Tate looked at him, his eyes slicing to Neeta, then back to Wood.

“Maybe you can see to that situation,” he suggested and I held my breath because suddenly all around were tense and I suspected this was because Tate hadn’t asked Wood for anything, not for a long time and not something as important as dealing with Neeta.

“Jonas is safe with me,” Stella stated. “Many eyes…” she trailed off.

“My kid’s goin’ home with me,” Neeta put in, a dog with a bone.

“Girl,” Pop turned to her, “it’s Buck’s weekend.”

“He’s comin’ home with me,” Neeta repeated.

“He’s not,” Tate declared in a way that everyone’s eyes went to him. “And he ain’t comin’ home tomorrow.” He looked at Jonas and ordered, “Go, Bub, into the office.”

“What do you mean he ain’t comin’ home tomorrow?” Neeta snapped.

“Go into the office, Bub, now,” Tate reiterated, Jonas nodded and moved quickly toward the office.

“Tate, goddamn it, what in the fuck do you –?” Neeta started but she stopped and I figured this was because Tate speared her with a look that was so hostile it took her breath away. I figured this because it took mine.

We all waited, the door closed behind Jonas and finally Tate spoke and he did this with his eyes still locked on Neeta.

“I gotta do this with Shambles so I don’t got a lot of time but I’ll tell you this. You think for one fuckin’ second after you handled my boy that way that he’s goin’ anywhere near you, you’re a bigger fuckin’ lunatic than I thought.”

“What’s this?” Pop whispered.

“You wanna tell your Dad what you did?” Tate dared.

Neeta raised a hand and jabbed a finger at me. “She wouldn’t let him go.”

“Which was good, since you were actin’ like the whacked out bitch everyone here knows you to be, he was shakin’ so hard, he wouldn’t have been able to keep his feet,” Tate shot back. “And nothin’, and you know it Neet, there is not one damn thing in this fuckin’ world that excuses you handlin’ my boy so rough he cries out in pain.”

“Good God,” Stella whispered, her toned filled with horror.

“Neet,” Pop whispered, his tone filled with pain.

Neeta turned and whined to her father, “She wouldn’t let him go, Pop.”

Pop didn’t even look at me when he asked, “That’s your excuse?”

“She –” Neeta began.

Pop cut her off. “Lauren’s got not one thing to do with this. It’s all you, Neeta. It’s always you. “

“Pop –” Neeta started but he lifted a hand.

“Get outta my sight, girl. I don’t wanna see you,” he whispered words that seemed dragged out of him, I heard Neeta draw in breath in a way I knew she’d never heard them before, not after anything she’d done and there clearly had been a lot. “I don’t think I ever wanna see you again,” he went on and then he stared at her as if he’d never seen her in his life and wished he still hadn’t. Finally his eyes moved to Tate. “Do me a favor, just one, Buck, take Wood. Find this man’s woman. He can help.” He waited for Tate’s nod, Tate gave it to him and he concluded, “I’m gonna go be with my grandson.” Then he moved to and up the steps, disappearing behind the office door.

“I can take you, Neet, you know it so don’t even try,” Stella warned and my eyes moved from the office door to her to see she was giving a hard look to Neeta.

Neeta gave up on her family and looked at Tate.

“We’ll see what the judge says about this,” she threatened.

“Yeah, we will, with Ned, Betty and Lauren all there to witness what you did, Neet, and Jonas wantin’ to live with me anyway, we’ll fuckin’ see,” Tate returned, his eyes shifted to Wood and he clipped, “You’re in the Explorer with me.” He looked at me. “You’re ridin’ with Shambles, babe.” His eyes sliced to Shambles. “You lead. Take us to where she told you she would be,” he ordered, Shambles nodded and Tate finished, “Let’s roll.”

*

We hit the clearing in the woods, Shambles was leading and speaking, “There,” he pointed to the clearing, “that’s where we –”

We were at the edge of a glade and he stopped speaking and walking because Wood reached up and grasped his shoulder, pulling him to a halt.

“Hang there, pal,” he said softly, his eyes coming to me. “Hang with him, yeah, Laurie?” I nodded and he looked at Tate.

Then Wood moved forward, Tate rounded me, they separated and skirted the clearing, both of their eyes pointed inward, to the dirt floor. They only did this for five, six steps before they stopped and looked across the glade to each other. When they did, I saw both men’s faces were set and both of their mouths were tight.

I reached out, grabbed Shambles’s hand and squeezed.

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