knows where you live, man. It probably would have been in his best interest to keep that information to himself, but apparently, his ego is bigger than his brain.”
“Fuck,” Tango says again, followed by more rustling.
“It gets worse,” I tell him.
“What?” he says, clearer than anything else he’s said.
“I think he tampered with the scaffold you fell from.” There’s silence on the phone, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he hung up on me and made it halfway down the hospital hallway on one foot. “I’d come get you but I don’t think I should leave the girls.”
“Don’t leave,” he finally says. “I’m getting a Zuber car home and let’s just hope Landon is the one who comes to pick me up.”
Jesus. This isn’t going to end well.
“I can take care of them tonight, man. We can get you in the morning.”
“No, I’m on my way home. Just put the alarm on and stay in the hall outside of their rooms. Can you check on Tyler for me?” I’m sure Cali did already, but she was pretty cocked too.
“Sure,” I tell him. I’m already in the hall so I poke my head into Tyler’s room, seeing a pile of blankets but not little pigtails. Nervous, I take the few steps over to her bed and pull the comforter down a bit, finding her snoring under the mess of sheets. I tuck her back in and quietly step back out into the hall. “She’s good, snoring like her pops.”
“Yeah, that’s my kid,” Tango laughs a little.
“You sure you want to do this?” I ask him.
“I’m outside in a fucking hospital gown, sitting on a bench waiting for the car to get here.”
“Wait, are you wearing shorts under your gown?” I ask.
“Nah, still can’t figure out how to get anything up my leg.”
“So your hairy ass is hanging out for the world to see? And you’re going to put that thing on a nasty Zuber car seat?”
“My girls are in danger, so I don’t care who sees my ass, and for your information, my ass is nice, and it’s not hairy at all. Is your ass hairy? That’s nasty.”
“No, my ass isn’t hairy,” I argue. “My ass is big, but it’s nice too.”
“How drunk is my wife? Like, is she too drunk to kill me when I hobble through the door?”
I open Cali’s bedroom door and look in, finding her fully clothed and passed out sideways on their bed.
“I think you’re good. She’s out cold.”
“Thanks for taking such good care of them,” Tango says, laughing.
“Hey, I showed up when they were both half in the bag,” I defend myself.
“Yeah, because you told Sasha to go get herself laid.”
“Yeah…”
“I’ll say it again. You’re a moron. If I could slap your head right now, I would.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I think my ride is here. What kind of car was that shithead driving?”
“A Prius,” I tell him.
“Eh, I don’t think this is him then. Damn.”
“Dude, how would you even kill someone with one leg?”
“I still have two arms and two hands,” Tango argues.
“Right.”
“I’ll be home in twenty.”
I’ve been sitting at the front window for the last ten minutes waiting for the headlights. I don’t know how he’s hobbling around but the dude has plates and screws coming out of his leg. When I see him pulling up, I jog outside to the bottom of the driveway where I see Tango struggling to get out of the car. Oh shit! If this wasn’t such a serious situation, I’d love to capture this on video right now. My man is seriously in a hospital gown, and I’m not sure I want to know how he managed to get out of the hospital without someone attempting to stop him. There’s security and crap there. I’m not one to put much past Tango, though. If he’s on a mission, don’t get in his way.
I grab his arm and lift it over my shoulders. “It’s like old times,” I tell him. “Remember that day your leg got hit with that piece of shrap? I had to drag your ass out of the middle of a hot zone.”
“Yeah, man, I remember. Except you were dragging me by the back of my vest. And I was still fighting the enemy.”
“Yeah, you and your little sidearm did more damage in those thirty-seconds than what we saw that whole day.”
“Pretty fucking sweet, huh?”
“Yeah, sweet,” I tell him. I don’t know how Tango still talks about those days like they were exciting and something worth remembering. I