The officer looked at me and stated, “You got that right.”
“What the fuck happened?” Tate growled and I belatedly noticed he was holding himself perfectly still and his face was rock hard but there was a lethal energy emanating from him. It was so forceful, so strong, it was quickly filling the room and if Betty wasn’t standing in the door holding it open and letting some of Tate’s energy out, I fancied it would choke us all.
“Bad, man, and when I say that I mean bad,” Frank told Tate. “She’s messed up, in the hospital. Did her with a knife.”
Betty cried out and, without thinking, my hand shot up and I grabbed onto Tate’s bicep and leaned my weight into it because if I didn’t, I might faint.
Tate shifted so my hand disengaged but I didn’t drop to the floor because he shifted so his arm was around my waist and he hauled me deep into his side.
“Jesus Christ, Frank, you got an audience,” Tate ground out.
Frank glanced at Betty and me and mumbled, “Shit. Right. Sorry.”
“Right, sorry,” Tate repeated on an infuriated clip. “You can’t say that at three in the mornin’ when these women won’t be able to sleep because that shit you just shared is poundin’ into their brains.”
“Sorry,” Frank mumbled again.
“Tell me you got this guy,” Tate demanded.
“Why you think I’m here?” Frank asked.
“Because you don’t fuckin’ got this guy,” Tate bit out.
“We need you, Tate,” Frank stated and there was the thin, but desperate, thread of a plea in his four words.
But I was surprised. Why would they need Tate?
I looked up at him to see a muscle leap in his jaw.
Then he clipped, “Outside.”
Betty moved from the door and Frank moved out of it but Tate gave my waist a squeeze before he curled me into his front. Right into his front, our hips and bellies were touching and everything!
Looking down at me, he ordered, “Close that door, make your coffee and don’t fuckin’ listen. I’ll be back.”
Then he let me go and followed Frank.
“Oh dear,” Betty said and I looked at her.
“Tonia,” I whispered and my eyes filled with tears.
I mean, I didn’t know her very well and I didn’t like her but to be raped with a knife?
Betty nodded, grabbed my hand and led me to the bed. Once there, she put her hands to my shoulders and pressed down.
“I’ll make coffee,” she whispered after I was seated and then turned to the kettle.
Betty was silent while she made coffee and I got myself together. Then she brought two mugs to the bed, sat down beside me and handed me mine.
That’s when I asked, “Why would the cops come to Tate?”
“Well, he used to be one of ‘em,” she answered and I stared at her.
“Really?”
“Yeppo… and a good one.”
“Why isn’t he now?” I asked.
“Neeta,” she answered.
“Sorry?”
“Neeta.” She saw my face then patted my knee. “Long story and a sorry mess it was. I’ll tell you later. But now isn’t the time with Tate outside. Okay?”
I wanted to know then but she was right so I said, “Okay.”
“Anyway, it’s good they came to him,” she said. “Tate’ll find him.”
“But, how can the cops ask him to help if he’s a bartender?” I asked and she smiled.
“He isn’t a bartender, sweetie, he’s a bounty hunter.”
“What?” I breathed.
“Good one ‘a those too, I hear. When Bubba isn’t playin’ hooky and Krystal’s got a full staff, Tate gets called all over the country to find fugitives from the law.”
“Really?” I was still only talking in breaths.
“Yeah, Laurie. Tatum Jackson’s not the kind of man to spend his life behind a bar.”
My eyes moved to the door.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“Drink your coffee,” Betty urged and I looked back at her and just sat there so she prompted, “Coffee, sweetie.”
“Right,” I whispered and I drank my coffee.
*
Five minutes later there was a knock on the door.
Betty ran to get it because I was sitting cross-legged on the bed taking a sip of coffee.
Tate nodded at Betty when he walked in but he came right to me, stopped, tossed a phone charger and a shiny box on the bed and looked down at me.
“Night swims are done, Ace,” he declared in a hard voice.
I stared up at him and whispered a shocked, “Sorry?”
He bent at the waist, put a fist in the bed on either side of my hips, got in my face and I was too stunned to move.
“No more swimmin’ unless its daylight and Ned or Betty are around,” he ordered.
“But, how do you –?”
“You get in your room, you put the chain on and you stay in it, got me?”
“But –”
“You don’t open the door unless you know for a fact who it is and that they’re alone,” Tate went on.
“I –”
“I programmed my numbers into your phone. You need to go somewhere and it’s night, you call me, I’ll come down and you’re on the back of my bike.”
I swallowed but the tears still filled my eyes.
“She’s bad,” I whispered.