Lady Luck (Colorado Mountain #3)(127)

Then he let that bitch go and noted, “Hard for them to hand Crabtree his shoelaces, he’s in the wind.”

“Yep,” Tate agreed.

“You think we got a problem with Julius’s boy?”

“I think it would be worth it to have a conversation with him but, no. Sources say CPD is runnin’ scared and not just your man in Dallas. I think these are desperate acts, not strategic maneuvering based on covert intel,” Tate replied.

“Then it’s good news Julius is in town, he can have a word.”

“Julius is in town?” Tate asked and Ty’s eyes went to Lexie.

“Yeah,” Ty answered. “Seemed he was gettin’ impatient with me and Lex takin’ our time reuniting so he decided to get Lex’s ass home. To do that, he phoned Ella and to get Ella to phone Lex, he told her I’d been in a car crash, was dyin’ and if she didn’t haul her ass from Florida, she’d lose her chance to say good-bye to me on my deathbed.”

Loaded silence then a low, “You are f**kin’ shittin’ me.”

“No.”

Cautious silence then, “She haul her ass from Florida?”

“We’re at the diner havin’ lunch.”

Total silence then, “Brother…” pause then, “f*ck, it good?”

He smiled at his wife. Then he told Tate quietly, “Yeah, brother, all good.”

Ty watched as her face lost some of her concern and got soft.

Yeah, all good.

“Good,” Tate said quietly back.

Unfortunately, Ty had to bring the conversation back around. “Seems we gotta step shit up before everyone who can prove I didn’t do it gets dead.”

At that, Lexie’s eyes got big again. He gave her an “it’s all good” chin lift even though it wasn’t. This time, she trusted him and popped the fry in her mouth.

“Seems we do. I’ll talk to Deke,” Tate replied.

“I’ll talk to Julius.”

“Right,” then, “happy for you, Ty, Lexie’s back.”

“Not as much as me.”

A smile in his voice with, “I bet.” Then, “I’ll tell Laurie.”

“Good. I’ll tell Lex you’re tellin’ Laurie.”

A chuckle in Tate’s voice with, “Good.”

“Junior high,” Ty muttered.

“Yeah, but not the shit part of it,” Tate returned.

He had that right.

“We done?” Ty asked.

“For now,” Tate answered.

“Then later.”

“Later.”

He flipped his phone shut and caught Lexie’s eyes as she was taking a big bite of burger. It wasn’t hard to catch her eyes. She was staring at him.

She put the burger down, chewed twice and with mouth full, prompted, “Well?”

“Misty’s dead.”

Her entire torso jerked forward and back as she did a slow blink and stopped with eyes wide.

Then, mouth still full, she asked loudly, “What?”

“The wicked bitch is dead, mama.”

She stared, chewed, swallowed, grabbed her soda, sucked deep on her straw, slammed the cup down and instantly commenced throwing sass. “Well, shit! If she’s dead, how can I have a bitch smackdown with her?”

Ty felt his body shake with laughter as he said, “Sorry, baby, gonna have to give up on that dream.”

“Fuck,” she whispered, glaring down at her plate.

Ty studied his wife, grinning.

The woman was dead and Lexie was pissed that she didn’t get her chance to engage in a catfight before Misty bought it.

And, there it was. Lexie hated Misty more than he did.

Seeing that, he suddenly understood it and knew that emotion was for him, not that Misty had betrayed the sisterhood. Misty was his wife’s focus because, no matter what authority and power was around her, Misty was the one person in his nightmare who could end it. And she didn’t. And she didn’t just to get a ring on her finger and a shot at a big inheritance.

And that was not what Alexa Walker was about.

And Alexa Walker loved him and that love ran deep.

Ty had endured the consequences of Misty’s greed and he hated her because of it. But Lexie paid the price of Misty’s actions and that price was expensive. But she paid it twice and she’d do it again.

Knowing this, that gaping wound in his chest tightened and started to close.

Misty Keaton took five years of Ty’s life and six weeks of his wife’s.

And now the bitch was dead.

“Babe,” he called quietly and her angry eyes shot to his. “That toxic pu**y was found dumped by an access road, shot dead. It’s done for you, for me. Team Walker is movin’ on.”

He watched the anger seep out of her eyes but they grew thoughtful.

Then she asked, “Are both members of Team Walker moving on?”

At her question, his hand moved across the table to tag hers, his fingers curling around and holding tight and he leaned in.

“Vengeance is mine,” he whispered and her fingers convulsed in his then he went on. “And the way I’m seein’ to that is that my woman and the babies she gives me are gonna have a man and a Daddy who does not have this shit hangin’ over his head, whose name is clear so they are free to live wild and burn bright without this shit draggin’ them down. To do that, Team Walker celebrates each victory by livin’ wild and burnin’ bright without this shit draggin’ them down. Misty Keaton is dead. We… are… movin’… on.”