“Martinez.”
He dropped his bag on the bed and moved to the dresser.
“Fuck,” Tate whispered.
“Tate, don’t got a lot of time.”
“Ty, you are not allowed to leave the state.”
“That’s why I don’t got a lot of time. I need you to give me those addresses so I can get there, get shit done and get home without anyone knowin’.”
“Ty, you f**k up –”
Walker stopped dead and barked into the phone, “Quit wastin’ my f**kin’ time! You gonna get me those addresses or you gonna f**k me?”
“Let me go after her.”
“No.”
“Ty, I’ll get the addresses, leave tonight.”
“No.”
“Why no?”
“She isn’t your wife, Tate, she’s mine.”
Silence.
“You’re wastin’ my time,” Walker warned.
“You bringin’ her back?” Jackson sounded disbelieving.
“Yeah,” Walker replied instantly.
“Brother –” Tate started.
“Did you not f**kin’ hear me? Martinez has got her.” Walker’s voice was low and tight with anger and impatience.
“I get you. I get what you’re feelin’ but you gotta listen to me a second, Ty. You did not see her. She stayed with Dominic but I saw her, Laurie saw her. The state you left her in, you cannot waltz into Dallas and bring that woman home.”
That thing pierced his chest again but the feeling was different. Savage. Brutal. Inflicting damage.
He powered through it.
“I’ll deal when I get there.”
“Let me go and talk to her. I’ll leave Jonas with Pop, take Laurie with me.”
“This isn’t junior high, Tate.”
“You do not know what you’re dealin’ with, Ty.”
“This is wastin’ my f**kin’ time,” he said low.
Silence then, “I’ll get the addresses, I’ll come over and I’ll go with you.”
“Suit yourself. But be here soon. You got half an hour. You aren’t here, brother, I’ll head to Dallas and find her myself.”