“Good luck. He seems like a stickler.” Which overall makes me very happy. I need someone who is on top of the details taking care of Blake.
“Southern charm can overcome stickler,” Alex drawls as he saunters over to the desk. Sure enough. He flashes a thumbs-up before he disappears behind the locked door.
“Do you two need anything before we go?” I feel guilty about leaving. Guilty about not leaving sooner. But once Brambilla is handled, I can give Eliot and Cade the support they need with one hundred percent focus.
Twenty minutes later, the three of us pile into Amy’s car. Alex sits in the back, hoping to sleep. As soon as I’m on the highway, Stone shifts in the passenger seat. “This situation with Blake isn’t your fault.”
“I know. Logically.”
“You two are too much alike.”
“Who?” I ask.
“Amy.” Stone flicks the air vent away from him. “Both of you feel responsible for what that criminal did. Her thinking’s even more twisted. She doesn’t believe she deserves protection.”
“Of course she does.”
“And you don’t believe you deserve to have her.”
Stone’s words hit me like a bat to the skull, but he’s not wrong. I shake my head—not disagreeing, but to get my brain working again.
“When are you going to admit to yourself that you’ve been gone over this woman since the first time your hand connected with her backside?”
“Before that. From the moment I saw her.” I don’t have any lies left, not even for myself.
“If you don’t make this right, quick, you’ll never get the chance again. Ask me how I know.”
It’s not really an invitation. I’ve always known Stone had a story about the one who got away. The wisdom he gained too late.
“After we get this guy and Blake is released from the hospital, what will the team do? Will Blake rehab here or in St. Louis?” I glance at him. “Because I’ll be honest, I don’t want to lose my brothers who’ve kept me sane all these years. I don’t want to choose between the love of my life and my family. Does that make me selfish?” Asking for everything is a bit much. “It’s just I don’t think Amy will go back. She shouldn’t.”
Stone grunts. “About that—”
TWENTY-TWO
Amy
I putanother slice of pepperoni pizza on my paper plate and return to the living room where Katherine, Gabe, and their three foster kids are deep into Gabe’s favorite movie. I can’t focus on the fantasy plot, not when Blake might die and Tyler is torn between taking care of me and his loyalty to his team. He should never have come here. As Stone reminded me, I’m not his family. And as wonderful as Katherine and Gabe are, I’m not their family either. I don’t belong here any more than I belonged at the hospital.
As soon as the movie ends, Katherine organizes the cleanup and prep for bed. The kids are adorable but kind of lost. Rudderless. And I can completely relate, but I’m too old to depend on someone to guide me through the daily chores of life like brushing my teeth and putting on my pajamas. Maybe there should be adult foster care for when life gets too overwhelming. Someone to call in and hand over the issues I’m facing. Someone who can remind me to take care of myself. Maybe I treated Tyler like he was that person. I had no right to ask that of him, to involve his team. He’s my husband on paper, but would my husband want me to be this needy?
“I should go,” I tell Gabe as soon as the kids are upstairs. “If you could give me a ride back to the Sunflower, I can take care of myself.”
“No.” Gabe’s single-word response is like a slap.
“What?” Gabe is never that blunt.
“Not only no but hell no. You’re safe here. Betty’s still missing, and there are teams of law enforcement searching for who I suspect is the guy after you. I send you back to the Sunflower alone, and Tyler won’t just be spankingyourass. He’ll be kicking mine.”
Flames burn my cheeks. How could Tyler have outed me to my friends? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Amy, I’m not trying to embarrass you. Just get your attention. You’re safe here. The attic suite’s ready for you.”
“What did Tyler tell you?”
“Nothing specifically. I just overheard a conversation. Plus, the way he interacts with you.” Gabe shrugs. “I lived with other guys for years in the military. Not much I haven’t seen or heard. Everyone has their own tick, the thing that winds their clock. No judgment.”
I nod, but the heat still burns my face. Up until a few weeks ago, my entire life, even my name, was private—a secret I held close to my chest. If I could sink into a hole right now, that would be ideal.
