I yanked the tee down and, with difficulty, swallowed the tears that were threatening to choke me. Then I asked softly, “Can Lanie call me tomorrow?”
Tack’s voice was remote when he replied, “I’ll get her that word.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, watching him moving toward the door.
“One ‘a the boys will be in to get you,” he told me, striding out the door.
“Thank you,” I repeated quietly to the door.
But Tack was gone.
Chapter Sixteen
You Matter
It was afternoon the next day and I was sitting on my deck, Uncle Marsh at my side and he was telling me stories of growing up with my Mom in Ohio. Aunt Bette was sitting at the bar in my kitchen, her fingers flying over the keyboard of her super-slim laptop, taking care of business even though it was Saturday. Mostly, she was giving me and Uncle Marsh alone time. But from my experience, Aunt Bette shut down approximately thirty minutes before she conked out for the night. All other times she was on the go, working, scrap booking, shopping, serial communicating with family and friends and generally making everyone around her tired just by watching her.
She was, not surprisingly, none the worse for wear after being kidnapped. What was surprising was that she and Uncle Marsh were happy to let the kidnapping rest in Hawk Delgado’s hands with no police interference.
“Hawk knows what he’s doing,” Aunt Bette muttered then charged into my kitchen to set up her super-slim laptop.
Apparently, Aunt Bette had been briefed. Also apparently, she didn’t intend to fill me in.
I was happy to let it lie. I had other things on my mind.
When she and Uncle Marsh had shown that morning, I’d curtailed discussion of Tack by telling them straight off that things were over. I didn’t explain but they both knew me enough to take one look at my face and leave it alone. So they did.
As Tack promised, I got a call from Lanie who I found out was with Elliott. She was still freaked so I didn’t push her to share about her experience. I just listened as she told me that Chaos was helping them lay low and they were talking which meant working things out. This didn’t fill me with happy thoughts. Elliott might love my BFF but he also did stupid shit that got her kidnapped by the Russian freaking mob. However, I decided to throw my hissy fit later when my heart didn’t hurt so much and when Lanie wasn’t recovering from the drama to end all dramas.
Mostly, all day, I focused on getting through the day because, as I mentioned, my heart hurt. How this was, I didn’t know. I kept telling myself I barely knew Tack and most of what I knew scared me, some of it confused me and some of it I didn’t like. Even with that, the parts I did like, too much, kept pushing through and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t tamp them down.
I wanted to call him. I wanted to take back my decision. But every logical bone in my body (what there were of them which, I had to admit, were not many) kept holding me back.
His life was a nightmare, his world was frightening and he hurt me. The first night he met me, he kicked me out of his bed without a glance back and took another woman to it the very next night. Then he immediately commenced playing games. I needed to see these red flags for what they were and steer well clear. I knew it.
I knew it.
But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
I loved my Uncle Marsh and one of the things I loved most about him was his stories.
But sitting beside him on my deck, the kind of time I would normally cherish, I wasn’t listening.
“You got a head full of biker.”
I blinked at my backyard then looked at my Uncle.
“What?” I asked.
His eyes went from my yard to me, “Honey, you got a head full of biker. You know I know it. You’re miles away. And you know I know it’s not about you and your Aunt being kidnapped by the Russian mob.”
These were words I never expected my Uncle to say. Or anyone, for that matter. Then again, I never expected to be kidnapped by the Russian mob.
I pulled in breath through my nose and looked back at my yard.
“It’s over,” I said softly, hoping that would end it.
I should have known better. This was Uncle Marsh. He had something to say, he said it.