“DIA?” High prompted.
“Far away from you,” the man replied. “First hit, red-eye to New York. Second hit, Paris. Think that’s far enough she can get her head together and sort out her life. But, man, I’m tellin’ you this for the sole purpose that you’ll get the message. She’s not comin’ back. She’s puttin’ distance between her and here, which means her and you, and she’s gonna keep that up one way or another and I mean physically. Denver is a memory for her because you need to be a memory for her. And while I got you, bud, thanks,” he spat the last word. “Thanks for takin’ our girl away from us. The aunt my kids fuckin’ love, the sister my wife adores, the woman I met who’s got no light in her but she’s still got enough love in her to light up the worlds of the people who matter. That’s lost to us now ’cause a’ you. Thanks for that, asshole. Thanks a fuckin’ lot.”
And with that he hung up.
High dropped his hand to his hip, fingers still curled around his phone, and he studied the toes of his boots.
Not sure you can get a passport in a day, Logan.
You wanna go to Paris, I’ll find a way.
She went to Paris.
He knew from what Shirleen and Brody found that Millie had never left the country but she did have a passport.
And she was using it to go to Paris.
Without him.
Leave me to my nothing!
High had a choice.
Lead with his heart and get an emergency passport, get Brody on finding her, and get his ass to France so he could find out what in the fuck was going on.
Or lead with his gut, knowing a woman could not change her entire life from Paris. She had a business. She had a home.
She’d be back.
And when she was back, she’d be calmer. She’d have taken the time to get herself together.
And he’d know when she was back because he’d have Brody on that too.
Then he’d talk to her right there in that fucked-up, immaculate house and then he’d finally find out what in the fuck was going on.
He wanted to lead with his heart. All he could see was her face at The Roll. All he could hear were her words clawing at his soul.
But he’d gone with his heart with Millie before. He’d sustained the blows she was delivering, not paying a lick of attention, walking away in an effort to end the pain.
If he’d gone with his gut back then, he’d have paid attention. He’d have seen. He’d have heard.
He wouldn’t have left her behind.
He would have known all she spewed was shit and he would have gone back.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Gut,” he decided.
It cost him but High went with that decision.
But before he did, he went to get his truck, drove to Ride, got some plywood, and went back to Millie’s to board up her door.
Tyra
I followed Tack into our bedroom.
He turned on the light, moved to the bed, sat on it, and bent to his boots.
I closed the door behind me and stood leaning against it.
The drive up the mountain was silent and uncomfortable.
My man was mad.
“Kane—” I started.
He lifted his head to look at me and I shut my mouth.
“I told you,” he rumbled.
“You don’t understand, honey,” I said softly.
“No,” he bit, standing. “You don’t understand, Tyra.” He planted his hands on his hips. “Fuck, woman, can you honest to God stand there and fight your corner after witnessing how your fucked-up shit played out tonight?”
“There can’t be that much feeling unless there’s that much feeling, Kane,” I pointed out.
“Tell me, Red, when we were gettin’ together, you gutted me and I walked away from you, made it clear I wanted nothin’ more to do with you even if you sorted your head out. Some bitch you didn’t fuckin’ know got up in your business, shovin’ you at me only for you to take the hit of gettin’ shot down again and again and again, the brothers at my back delivering the same kind of blows. You’d want that?”
“If I got you back, yes,” I whispered. “I’d take any hit over and over and over again until I got you back.”
He stared at me.
I held his stare and let the silence stretch.
Then I ended it.
“Tell me you saw her tonight,” I said.
He looked away, tearing his hand through his hair.
He saw.
“She’s in pain.” I told him something he now knew.
He looked back at me. “None of our business.”
“Honey—”
His next came as a warning whisper.
“None of our business, Red.” He drew in breath and kept his eyes locked to mine. “You know it. You know how it is. Those boys, my brothers, your brothers, they fuckin’ love you, babe. Totally fuckin’ love you. But you know men like us. You fuckin’ know down to your soul men like us. You know this shit is not on. Your purpose is compassionate. But men like us, your methods are unacceptable.” He kept hold of my eyes and dropped his voice to gentle. “And you know it, baby. So you know this is none of our business.”
“She might do something—” I started.
He cut me off. “I’ll keep an eye.”
I nodded. I’d take that because I had to but also because I knew he would.
“You done now?” he asked.
I shook my head and saw his jaw grow hard.
But I told him, “I don’t like it. But I think I have to be.”
His face relaxed and his order was quiet and coaxing. “Get ready for bed, darlin’.”
I nodded again and went about doing that.
I joined my man in bed.
I didn’t sleep.
My husband felt it.
“You need to relax,” he said.
“Do you think that High’s going to—?”
“I think it’s none of our business.”