Chapter 89

It was just after noon and I was spent.

Tack had gone down the mountain to see about getting my things. He had decreed that I was staying at his place. Thinking about this, people were kidnapping me. Dad and Meredith were homeless and their vulnerability had been proven by a firebomb.

Leo was a cop but he had a job that he had to work in order to get paid which meant he couldn’t spend his days guarding me. I was still averse to buying a gun and, anyway, I was pretty sure there was a waiting period prior to earning a permit so that was out.

Tack had a bevy of badass bikers at his command and a mountain hideaway.

So I picked Tack.

While he was gone I called and left a message with Dad telling him where I was so he wouldn’t worry and telling him I’d explain later. I also told him the dinner Elvira and I sorted out with Hawk, Gus and Maria was off and I’d explain that later too. I didn’t call Meredith because she could take calls at work and I wasn’t ready to go there. I did call Cam and Tracy. Cam ranted about Hawk saying how she knew, she just knew, Hawk was a motherfucking asshole. Tracy sounded exactly as heartbroken as I felt.

I didn’t call Troy. He wouldn’t gloat, I knew that, he’d be kind.

He’d also offer me a place to stay and Troy was a great guy but he didn’t have a bevy of badass bikers at his command and a mountain hideaway. He had a condo and his male friends were mostly bankers.

I was sitting on Tack’s huge, slouchy, comfortable, tan couch that faced the view, my mind filled with unhappy thoughts at the same time considering a nap which I hoped would last around fifty years, when I saw Tack on his bike roaring up the drive. He was alone and his Harley was not laden with suitcases.

Shit.

I got up and met him at the front door.

He looked unhappy.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“No,” he answered, moved to a door off the entry area, opened it and pulled out a leather biker jacket. He turned, tossed it to me and I caught it. “Put that on, peaches. I hate to break this to you but Hawk’s bein’ a dick. He won’t release your shit unless he sees you.

My boys are in a standoff with his boys at his warehouse and to get your shit without unnecessary hassle which could mean anything from minor injuries to bloodshed to hospital stays, I need you to show your face.”

My body had locked but my mouth moved to form the word, “What?”

Tack invaded my space and one hand went to my waist, the other hand curled around my neck. “Darlin’, he’s demandin’ to see you. So,” his hands gave me a squeeze, “we gotta let him see you.

He’ll see you, I’m at your back, then we take off and my boys go in and get your shit.”

“He’s holding my stuff for ransom until he sees me?” I whispered.

“Yep,” Tack answered.

“Why?” I was still whispering.

“Fuck if I know,” Tack replied.

I stood there, his hands on me, staring into his eyes.

Then I lost my mind.

I stepped back and yanked on his jacket. “That fucking dick!” I shouted. “God! What was I thinking! I must have lost my mind, getting involved with him. Temporarily insane!”

Then I freed my hair from the collar, stomped straight out the door and toward his bike only to be pulled up short with an arm at my belly, my foot just about ready to take the step off the decking at the side of the house and onto the gravel drive.

Tack lifted me clean off my feet, turned and put me down.

I pulled away, whirled on him then he said, “Babe, boots.”

I looked down at my feet in socks. Then I tipped my head back to look at Tack to see his mouth twitching.

Then I stomped into his house to get my boots.