Motorcycle Man

I looked to my knees and suggested quietly. “You could let him go. Let him face the consequences. I know that’s harsh but –”

Lanie cut me off. “I can’t desert him.”

“Yes, honey, you can. We’re talking the Russian mob. We’re talking you disappearing. We’re –”

“Tyra,” she interrupted me again, “in just weeks, I was going to pledge my troth to this man. What would it say about me when, days ago, I was intent on spending my life with him, for better or for worse, that I fall at the first hurdle?”

“Lanie, honey, really, I don’t want to be mean but this isn’t a hurdle. This is a twenty foot, steel-reinforced, concrete wall. I know I don’t have to tell you because you were there, and so was I, but we were kidnapped because of his shit.”

Tack made a noise that sounded like an amused grunt and my eyes went to him to see he was grinning at the pot but Lanie spoke in my ear.

“I’m sorry, Ty-Ty. So sorry. And Elliott is too. He feels so bad. He won’t stop talking about it. Not only that it happened to me but that it happened to you and your aunt. But he didn’t kidnap us. He just messed up. And, sweetie, the thing is, I’ve had a long time of better. This is the worse part of for better and worse. And he got in this pickle for me.”

My back went straight and I looked at the wall in front of me. “Oh no. I’m being cautious here because I know you love him and things are crazy but that’s not going to happen, you taking any blame for his actions.”

“Say it like it is, baby,” Tack muttered and my gaze went back to his, my eyes widening in a mute communication of “no comments from the peanut gallery”. This simply got me a bigger grin before Tack turned off the burner, picked up the pot and moved to the thick chops he’d laid in a tray.

Lanie was silent a moment then she whispered, “Ty-Ty, I love him and love scales twenty foot, steel-reinforced, concrete walls. If it doesn’t, it isn’t love.”

Damn, she had me there.

“What are you going to do for money? What about your job. His job? Your house? The wedding?” I asked, leaving out the selfish but (I thought) important Me?

“We’ll figure it out.”

Gah!

“Lanie –”

“Tyra, sweetie, that’s also what love is. You figure it out.”

She had me there too.

I sucked in breath, my head dropped and my shoulders drooped.

Then I said softly, “I’m worried about you.”

I heard the door on the oven go up and half a second later a strong, warm hand curved around the back of my neck. I looked up and saw a now unamused Tack holding my neck and my eyes, his serious and searching. Then, when he found what he was searching for, his eyes warmed and his hand gave me a squeeze.

That was thoughtful and sweet too.

“We’ll be all right,” Lanie assured.

“But –”

“And if we aren’t all right then we’ll be not all right together which is a form of all right.”

As nuts as it was, as insane as the situation, I was both glad for my friend that she had that conviction about the man she loved just as I was jealous and wanted that for me.

And thinking that, my eyes held by the deep warmth in Tack’s, my heart clenched yet again but it was the good kind of clench.

Scared but excited.

And hopeful.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“I’ll keep you in the loop as much as Tack says is okay,” Lanie told me.

There it was. More. Tack was protecting Lanie (and Elliott) as well as me.

“I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll tell Elliott you said ‘hi’.”

I wanted her to kick Elliott in the shin for me and, maybe, shove his shoulder and, possibly, lecture him for being an idiot in love and doing stupid shit the caliber of which ended in the mob snatching three women from an upscale mall parking lot but I didn’t share that.

Instead, noncommittally, I said, “Right.”

Lanie giggled quietly because she knew what I didn’t share.

“Roscoe found your ring. Did he get it to you?” I asked, changing the subject and Tack’s hand gave me another squeeze then he let me go and moved away.

“Got it. Thanks for that.”

“Thank Roscoe, he was the one wielding the metal detector.”

“Already did.”

“Good,” I muttered.

“I have to go, Ty-Ty. They just brought in our food.”

“Okay, honey, stay safe and stay strong.”

“Will do. And next time we talk, I want to know all about you.”

Translation: She wanted an update on me and Tack.

“Will do,” I repeated her words. “Later, honey.”

“Later, Ty-Ty.”

I slid the phone shut. When I did, Tack was right there sliding it out of my hand. He set it on the counter then he positioned in front of me, pulled my knees apart then he positioned in me. He did this by wrapping his arms around me and yanking me forward on the counter so his h*ps were between my legs and I was crotch to chest against him, tight.

His hand slid up and sifted into my hair while he muttered, “That sounded like it went okay.”

“Then it sounded wrong since she’s making the wrong decision, I’m scared as hell for her and I think the decisions Elliott has made has put in question his ability to make other important decisions in their future.”

“You’d be right about that,” Tack agreed.

Great.

“But, babe,” he continued, “I know about their plan and I’m arranging safe passage, new identities and a jumping off point where they’re gonna go. The Club is also gonna deal with the Russians. But that won’t matter for them. They’ll be long gone, buried in their new lives and all will be good. At least with that. We deal with the Russians, they can come back. Now, him not f**kin’ up again…” he trailed off.

But I was staring at him.

“You’re arranging safe passage, new identities and a jumping off point?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re arranging safe passage, new identities and a jumping off point?” I repeated then went on, “For Lanie and Elliott?”

His brows drew together. “Uh, yeah, babe.”

“Isn’t that… doesn’t that kind of thing cost a lot of money? New identities?”

“It does, you’re in the position you have to pay in cash. It doesn’t, you got someone who does good work who owes you a marker.”