Fire Inside (Chaos #2)(92)

“Yes, I knew. There are some guys, and Elliott was one of them, that just aren’t built that way. Luckily, the Mob doesn’t normally enter someone’s life so they aren’t put to that test. I didn’t know, if it came down to bullets flying, he’d use you to take them for him. I just knew that he made a bad decision on how to invest money. Then, when he lost his money, he made a bad decision on how to get it back, and it just went downhill from there. So, yeah, I knew. But I didn’t love him, Lanie. Tack is the exact opposite of that. He’d fight, kill and die before he let anything happen to me, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t sometimes a pain in my ass. He is. Elliott made it worth it to you in his ways. Tack makes it worth it in his. It’s just the way it is.”

I couldn’t argue with this so I said nothing.

She took another sip of wine before she finished.

“It’s easier to see this stuff clearly when emotion isn’t involved and, remember Lanie, you didn’t want Tack for me in the beginning. You hated him, wanted me to quit and walk away. Pretty much any good girlfriend at that time, before he exposed the man he really is, would say the same thing because they care about their girl, not the guy. They see stuff from the outside, not with emotion coloring everything. Sometimes they’re right, like I was with Elliott. And sometimes they’re wrong, like you were with Tack. But neither of us had all the information. It’s just that you got it all when it was too late.”

That was very true.

I took a sip of my wine then set the glass on my coffee table, dropped my hands in my lap and looked at her.

“I dream of Kansas City.”

Sorrow suffused her face and she whispered, “Oh, Lanie.”

“I see his eyes open and staring at me. He looks surprised. Not just in my dream. When it happened. He was dead but still, he looked surprised.”

She grabbed my hand and squeezed.

“I think he was surprised I didn’t save him.”

I watched the tears start shimmering in her eyes.

“I wanted a man who’d save me,” I confessed.

“Maybe, if you looked, you can find that man,” she suggested.

That wasn’t going to happen.

“I think I need to give that more time,” I evaded.

“Lanie, honey, I want to be sensitive but don’t you think that seven—?” She stopped talking and turned her head just as my eyes shot to the sliding glass doors because we both heard a Harley roar up to the back of my house.

My entire body strung tight.

“Tack knows I have my car and he doesn’t have to come and get me. God, do you think something’s up with the boys?” she asked, setting her wineglass aside, quickly getting up from the couch and hustling to the door.

She was out the door and in the courtyard when I heard the Harley roar away.

I closed my eyes.

It wasn’t Hop.

“How weird was that?” Tyra asked, back in the house, and I looked at her.

“Weird, sweetie,” I agreed.

She walked back to me and sat. “Could swear that bike came right up to your garage but it was gone before I got to the back gate.”

“Maybe bad sat nav directions,” I murmured.

She grabbed her wine. I followed suit.

Again, she got her sip in before I did and thus she could sock it to me.

“Mitch and Brock have a guy they want you to meet.”

“Ty-Ty—”

She shook her head. “I know Tack talked about him with you, he was going to call Mitch about it but maybe things with Tabby got him off track. I’m going to call Mara, get things back on track.”

“This really is too soon,” I told her.

“You wait any longer, honey, it’s going to be too late,” she replied, her voice sweet but firm.

I closed my mouth because she wasn’t wrong. But she also was and I couldn’t explain how.

“Right, I want you to do two things for me,” she started and when I nodded, she continued. “One, think about going to counseling. Even if it’s short-term counseling, get rid of those dreams. Talk to someone about Kansas City. Try to let that go.”

I could do that.

And I should do that.

It was time.

“Okay,” I agreed, then took a sip of wine.

“Second, go on this date with Mitch’s buddy,” she stated, and I nearly choked on my wine.

“Ty-Ty!” I cried when I recovered.

“Not tomorrow, not next week, just let Mitch give him your number. Talk to him on the phone. Get to know him a bit. Then,” she grinned, “maybe the week after that, just meet for coffee. No pressure. Just coffee.”

I stared at her a moment before I suggested, “How about this? You corral Elvira and maybe Gwen and go on a reconnaissance mission. Find this guy, follow him around, get pictures, go through his trash, stuff like that. And, in a month or so, report back to me and I’ll make my decision then.”

“I’m not going through trash,” she replied.

“Get Elvira to do it.”

“Lanie, do you know Elvira? I’ve never seen that woman in jeans. She is not going to wear one of her fabulous dresses and heels and go through trash. Hell, she’s just not going to go through some guy’s trash.”

“Maybe Gwen will,” I kept trying.