Chance’s voice rumbles from the kitchen. “He ain’t lyin’, baby girl.”
She twists, seeing not only Chance, but everyone else. All of them are staring at her—at us.
Lash twists a mustache between finger and thumb. “Inez is…not someone most people trifle with, dear woman.”
“And I just pissed her off,” Myka grumbles. “Great.”
“I think, if anything, you just earned her respect,” Kane says. “You pissed her off, I ain’t sure you’d be breathin’.”
“You’re just trying to scare me.” Myka sniffs.
Kane laughs. “Babe. She givesmethe willies.”
Myka frowns at him. “It’s just ridiculous. This isn’t prison, or college, or…or church camp. You’re allowed to have visitors.”
Kane snorts.
Chance holds a mug of coffee in his hands, sips. “Wasn’t an issue till now.”
“None of you has ever had a girl spend the night?” Myka asks.
No answers.
“For real?”
Lash’s voice is uncharacteristically serious. “None of us has been in a state of mind where seeing a woman seemed prudent, lovely one. We are the Broken Arrows. Women run from the likes of us.”
Myka stares at him. “But you’re all so hot.”
Chance guffaws. “Ah Jesus, woman. We’re all fucked up. Seems to me like Rev lucked the hell out, since you’re here, acting like…well, like that.” He waves at her. “Serious about him.”
“Because I am.” She grabs my hand, tangles her fingers in mine and presses my hand to her belly. “And I lucked out. Not just him.”
Kane shoots to his feet. Stares at her. “Godfuckingdammit, Myka. I was all settled in, livin’ the life. Fine and dandy, just me and the guys. Like bein’ back in the Rangers. Thenyoucome along.” He sounds angry, his voice tight. “And you’re doin’ the worst fuckin’ thing I can imagine.”
“Kane, I—”
“Givin’ ushope.”
He storms out, slams a door so hard the whole room shakes.
Myka gasps. “Rev, I…” She takes a step forward.
I pull her back. “Leave it, darlin’.” Feels weird, using those words. Weird, but good. And crazy that she lets me. “He needs time. I get him. We all do. You’re one in a fuckin’ billion, and all of us are…fucked up. Hurt.”
“Hope.” Lash murmurs the word. “A dangerous thing, indeed, for men such as we.”
And then, a phone rings.
Myka twists, looks into my room. “You have cell reception down here?”
“Guess so.”
She turns out of my hold and moves to her purse, on the floor just inside. Squats, digs her cell out. Straightens, looking at the screen; her face shifts into worry. Answers it. “Mom?”
Listens.
“No, oh god,no.” Her voice crumples, and so does she. I catch her. “Is he…?” Listening again, getting her feet under her. “Oh thank the Lord. I’ll be there as soon as I can—Mom, ofcourseI’m coming home. Don’t worry about that, I’ll figure it out. Okay, I love you. See you as soon as I can get there.”
