“I fake bake. My mother was an officer in the Army. Baking wasn’t her priority.” I quickly change the subject. “Kara, I need to know about Max and Kelly.”
She grabs a napkin and wipes her hands. “I don’t know them at all. I mean, Kelly stayed with me a few days when Max was missing, but she took off to find Max. Why? Are you inviting them to the wedding?”
“No,” I say, and pause because that’s a reality here I hadn’t thought of before now. Max and Kelly weren’t invited to the wedding. If Savage called Max a true friend, they would be. “No, but Savage just took off to do a favor for Max.”
She frowns. “What kind of favor?”
“He said a pick-up and drop-off. Something to do with someone hunting Max and Max can’t do it.”
She tosses the napkin down. “Right before the wedding? And I didn’t know they were that great of friends. That is something we do for our inner circle.”
“They aren’t,” I say. “But Savage says Max saved his life. I called Adam. He was going to ‘handle it,’ he said. I don’t know what that means.”
“It means the dumbass loyal beast of a man of yours isn’t alone. Adam wouldn’t let him go alone. Let’s drink wine and wait on Blake. He’ll get to the bottom of this.”
I sigh and give a tiny nod, but while she heads to the bar for the wine, I reach for my phone and walk to the floor-to-ceiling windows in their living room, where I dial Savage. He doesn’t answer. I dial Adam next. He too doesn’t answer.
Kara appears and hands me a glass. “Anything?”
“No,” I say. “I assume they’re both on a plane.”
“I texted with Blake. He says Savage, like the rest of the guys, pay for personal use of the planes. He booked a flight into Tennessee and then to Colorado and then back here. Blake assumed he was taking you somewhere.”
The doorbell rings. “I’ll be right back,” Kara says, hurrying to greet her visitor.
I stare out the window, without seeing the Hudson river below, trying to be comforted by the fact that Savage’s route matches what he told me. But why wouldn’t it? He doesn’t lie to me. Savage told me the truth, and nothing but the truth. In other words, he doesn’t really know what he’s getting himself into. Of that I’m certain.
I consider calling my father, who’d been the entire reason Savage had gotten involved with Tag. Savage wanted to please him, but no, I’m not risking my father making a call, or poking the wrong bear, that turns attention onto Savage. My father got in too deep with Tag as well, and saw friends where there were enemies. These war games get dangerous and dirty quickly.
At the sound of voices, I turn to find Sierra, Asher’s wife, with Kara. I know without being told that Asher went with Adam and Savage. And I tell myself that with a team of three Walker warriors on the case, nothing can go wrong.
Savage will be back home soon.
Safe.
And then we’ll get married.
I down my glass of wine, and will it to make me stop thinking of Tag, and Max’s connection to that monster. I will myself to stop thinking of everything that could go wrong.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Savage
We lift off at four o’clock, with a three-hour flight ahead of us, landing at a small strip an hour from our destination, which suits me fine. Darkness does a man right when he wants to live and love the woman he’s about to marry. And other dirty things he already knows said wifey-to-be will not only agree to but enjoy.
As for Asher and Adam, they’re both asleep, out of the necessity of an upcoming night mission, while I’m not. I’m thinking about Candace, who I should be holding, or fucking, or loving, and just talking to right now. But I know she knows I had to do this. I know she understands that I’ve done enough shitty shit in my life that I have to at least stand by my honor. But I’ll be back for the wedding. Which means I need sleep.
I crank back my seat, staring at the ceiling, and now my mind is on what is before me, and on Asher and Adam. I’m not sorry the assholes came along for the ride. I trust Adam. I trust Asher. At one point, I didn’t. At one point, I thought Asher’s only asset was being the best singer on the Walker team. Which is important. Every team needs the guy who can sing happy birthday and make no one else care that everyone else can’t sing worth a shit. He’s also one of our top hackers, just under Blake, and he can’t find a connection between Max and anyone connected to any of the addresses Max sent me. I should be comforted. Max is smart. He’s staying off the radar. Asher can’t find him. Asher texted with Blake and had Blake try to find him. Blake didn’t find him. All of this is good news. And yet, it’s like I have a thorn in my damn side, digging a hole.
I shut my eyes and try to see Candace walking down the aisle of the church, but I can’t quite get there. And I know why. Once again, something, or someone, is standing between us. I open my eyes again and stand up, walking to the back of the plane, where I sit down in a lounge area. And leave it to fucking Adam, he follows. He sits across from me.
“What are you thinking?”
“That I don’t feel good about this, which is exactly why I have to go head-on into this problem.”
In that moment, I know exactly what’s bothering me. “I don’t feel good about this,” I say, “but better I walk into a trap than someone come after me and finds Candace.”
***
Candace
I stand at the bedroom window and stare out at the New York City lights that seem to twinkle to the song on the radio—Travis Denning’s After A Few. You can take the Texas girl out of Texas, but you can’t take the country music away from the girl. Savage is a part of my soul and the truth is the country music takes me back to when we met. That coffee shop, the rain, our vehicles parked too close, and my door unable to open. We’d fought. I’d ended up in the vehicle with him and he’d kissed me. I’d fallen in love with Savage that night and hadn’t even known it. For a year, he’d seduced me and become my best friend. Then he went off on a mission and never came back.
Well, not for years.
And the truth is, this is the first time he’s left since we got back together.
This, I tell myself, is growth for us.
I need to know he can leave on a mission and he’ll always come back.
Unless he can’t. And therein lies the reason I have wine in my hand. Something about this entire situation feels wrong. So very wrong.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Savage
Like clowns in a mini car, me, Adam, and Asher pile into the large sedan I rented, a sedan that isn’t large at all. “I will not make a joke about Asher’s legs over his head right now,” I say, as he tries to get comfortable in the back seat while Adam is busy removing Asher’s space, by shoving the driver’s seat back even further.
Asher curses as he ends up in the middle of the seat, head touching the roof. “My legs are not over my head, but my damn knees are at my ears. Who was in charge of the rental?”