“Maybe they weren’t waiting for her, maybe you just want a lead so bad you thought they were.” He holds up his hands as my jaw clenches. “It’s understandable–we’re all fucking tired of waiting for a lead, man.”
“So, what do you guys have, anything since I was here last?” Dayton asks, looking between Miles and Tucker.
“Two new missing person cases were opened up, one–a sixteen-year-old girl with a history of running away, the other–a dancer at a club called “Teasers”. Neither woman has used their phone, credit cards or had contact with anyone since disappearing and we have no leads.”
“So, a young impressionable girl with an obvious history of some type of family issue—” he holds up one finger “—and a girl with a job in an industry where women have been known to be victimized.” He holds up a second finger. “Both of those are like blood in the water for the type of predator we are hunting.” He looks at Miles and Tucker. “Do you know the woman from yesterday? Does anything about her history give you an inclination that she would be an easy target–a woman who wouldn’t be missed?”
“We don’t know her, but we know her father. He’s close with all of his kids and loves his wife.” Miles looks at me and smirks. “And given the way he was ready to go for Clay’s throat yesterday, I’d say he’d burn down the world to find the person responsible if his daughter went missing.”
“He wasn’t a fan of yours?” Dayton asks me with a grin.
I press my lips together. The truth is I couldn’t give a fuck how Willow’s father felt about me, but I could appreciate the way he showed up when his daughter called him. A lot of people say they love their kids but saying those words and putting action behind them are two different things.
“You need to stay clear of her,” Tucker says.
I turn his way. “Pardon?”
“I saw the way you were watching her, and I’m telling you that you need to steer clear. We work with her father and they’re obviously close. We don’t need you blowing up our shit just to get your dick wet.”
“Who the fuck are you talking to right now?” I take a step toward the living room and Miles flies up off the couch stepping between us while Skye goes on alert and comes to stand next to my side laying her weight against my calf.
“You–I’m talking to you.” Tucker taunts, knowing just how to get under my skin having had sixteen years to perfect it.
“I’m going to tell you this only once: do not ever try to tell me who I can fuck or spend time with.”
“So, you are going to go there?”
“If I do, it’s none of your business.”
“Fuck! What the fuck did I tell you?” he asks, pointing at Miles who just shrugs. “You can’t be okay with that?”
“He doesn’t need my permission.” Miles sighs.
“Okay, lets all calm down.” Dayton steps in front of me.
“I’m calm.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You need to talk to him.”
“You know Clay would never do anything to jeopardize us reaching our goal.” He turns his back to me so he can face Tucker. “Right?”
“Right.” Tucker mutters, flexing his hands.
“Then chill. We all want the same thing, we’re on the same team, so fighting amongst ourselves isn’t going to help us right now.” He looks around at us. “Are we good now?”
“We’re good.” I let my arms fall to my sides.
“Tuck?” Dayton sighs and Tucker lifts his chin. “Fuck, why is it that I’m still keeping you two from killing each other?” He walks to the couch and falls lazily into it. “Have you been dealing with this bullshit since I’ve been gone?”
“All the fucking time, and it’s worse now than it’s ever been.” Miles sighs, taking a seat next to him.
Dayton looks at Tucker. “Are you still pissed at Clay because of the shit Naomi pulled?”
Leave it to Dayton to call Tuck out like the lawyer he is.
“She was drunk,” Tucker mutters.
I shake my head. “Brother, you know I love you and I’m all for you trying to figure shit out with your wife, but you know that’s a fucking lie.” I scrub my hands down my face. “She might have been drinking but she was not drunk.”
“She’d been going through a lot since the miscarriage.”
“I know.” My tone softens because fuck I know that him loosing that baby gutted him. His wife–I’m not so sure, she seemed almost relieved when talking about the miscarriage. Then again, everyone deals with loss differently, so what the fuck do I know?
“She had been drinking, she needed a shoulder to cry on and Clay gave her that.” He looks at me. “She told me what she did as soon as she got home.”