“Nothing a little bleach can’t fix,” Sutton said, shrugging it off as he slapped a hand on the back of Brooks’s shoulder. “Gotta learn to let shit go,” he added. “Especially when you’re in charge of a bunch of guys who weren’t taught any life skills,” he added, making Brooks crack a small smile, clearly glad that there was someone else around with a little sense.
I hadn’t had a lot of time around Sutton or Callow, what with being so preoccupied with Theo, then doing a drop with some of the other guys.
But from what I could tell, they both came with a little more maturity and life experience than some of the rest of us.
Callow, I guess, learned it in the service.
And Sutton, shit, I don’t know. Maybe cowboys had to wash their own assless Chaps or something.
“What the fuck is this now?” Brooks grumbled after just having loosened up his tight shoulders.
And, sure enough, there was Voss. Walking in with his junkyard dog.
I was actually surprised it took as long as it had to go back and get him. But I figured maybe the owner of the place was a little more vigilant after we’d snuck in that night.
“Is that the dog from the junkyard?” Seth asked, walking in from the kitchen.
“What junkyard?” Brooks asked.
“My man,” Sutton said, sighing hard. “I think you might need a drink. Having a stroke isn’t going to fix the situation.”
“You need to talk to Fallon about that,” Brooks said, looking at Voss. “And if he says it’s fine, you need to get it to Andi for a check-up and temperament testing. There are kids here all the time.”
With that, Brooks did something Brooks rarely ever did.
He went ahead and got himself a drink… then let it go.
I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself.
“So, what are we—“ Seth started, stopping when my phone started to ring.
No one called me.
Save for maybe one of the girls if they had something to tell me. But even that was rare. Everyone preferred to talk via text.
Which was why I was even more confused when I saw Theo’s name on the caller ID.
We only ever texted. And even that, not super often.
Curious, I swiped to answer, but I barely got the phone to my ear before I heard her voice, high-pitched and shaky.
“Dezi?”
“What happened?” I asked, already moving through the common area, stopping only to grab whoever’s gun got left on the pool table on my way out the door. “Theo,” I called when all I heard on the other end of the phone was whimpering and heavy breathing. “Where are you? You gotta tell me where you are, baby,” I demanded as I got to my bike.
“Work.”
“Three minutes,” I promised her, hanging up so I could turn over my bike and peel out of the lot.
Three minutes was maybe even generous. Especially since I was pretty sure I blew through two red lights on my short drive across town.
Where the fuck was Toll that he didn’t hear her?
I get that he wasn’t as spry as he used to be with his bum hip and leg, but he could still pull a trigger, couldn’t he?
A strange tightness spread through my chest and stomach, then wrapped its strong fingers around my throat even as my heart threatened to pound out of my chest.
It took me a long time to recognize it for what it was.
Panic.
I’d never really felt it before.
As someone who sort of thrived in chaotic situations, I never understood the sensation.
The crazier shit got, the calmer I did.
But, I guess, it was because there hadn’t been that much on the line for me before. Just my life. Not someone else’s. Not someone else’s that I was starting to really fucking like.
I don’t even know if I cut off the engine before I was flying off my bike, running across the lot to where I saw the curled-up form of Theo on the ground.
I was vaguely aware of Toll a few feet away, out cold. I couldn’t even tell you if he was breathing, if he was bleeding.
All my focus was on Theo as I dropped down beside her, brushing her hair out of her face.
“Theo, baby, you gotta wake up,” I said, wincing as I had to pat at her bruised and bloodied face to try to get her conscious again. “Hey, there you are. Stay with me, okay?” I said as I reached for my phone. “You’re going to be alright. I’m right here,” I said. “Redemption bar. Two people are down. I can’t tell,” I said when the lady on the phone asked if anyone was shot. “Beaten, definitely. Woman going in and out of consciousness. The man hasn’t woken up at all. Yeah. Okay,” I said, putting the phone down at my side.