Own the Wind(49)

I knew he didn’t like what he was hearing when he pulled my phone out of my hand, muttered into it, “She’ll call you back,” then his finger hit the screen and he looked at me.

Feeling pressure building in my head at this maneuver, I opened my mouth to, say, maybe, scream, but he beat me to speaking.

“A twelve-month lease is not gonna happen. Your place is okay but only okay,” he declared. “It’s too small, I’m not thrilled about the ’hood it’s in, and this works, babe, we’re movin’ on together and no way it’s big enough for us both. I’m not waitin’ out a twelve-month lease. I’m not puttin’ up with what I don’t want for twelve months. And I don’t want you in a place that’s not good enough for you for twelve months. So you are not stayin’ there for twelve months. Tell them month-to-month. If they flinch, they deal with me.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, but in order not to have words with him in front of his brother, I did as I was told. They flinched. Shy heard it, took the phone from me again, I glared at him then glared at his smiling brother who was privy to all this, seeing as we were back at Shy’s place, and then I listened to Shy try and reason with them.

This didn’t work so Shy said in the phone, “Right. You’ll be seein’ me in thirty minutes and I suggest you take that time to think real hard on that decision.”

Then he tossed my phone to me, muttered, “Be back,” and took off before I could say word one.

I stared at the door that closed behind him wondering how he would know how to find my landlord.

Then I stared at the door trying to convince myself that didn’t just happen.

Then, when I realized that did just happen, I tamped down the urge to throw something at the door.

Then I stabbed at my phone and called Shy.

I did this repeatedly.

He didn’t answer for forty-five minutes and when he did, his greeting was, “Got month-to-month, babe. Tell Lan to load you up in his truck. I’m makin’ steaks tonight at your place. Meet me at King Soopers on Colorado Boulevard.”

Then he hung up on me.

Yep. Hung. Up. On. Me!

Apparently he used his badass biker ways to find my landlord and strong-arm a month-to-month lease out of him. Although this was what I wanted, contradictorily, the way Shy made it come about (specifically my nonparticipation in that), didn’t make me happy.

Lan didn’t chime in until I was fuming in his truck. “Let him do what he’s gotta do.”

I kept my mouth set and my eyes out the side window.

“Tabby, seriously, listen to me,” Lan carried on. “He’s my big brother and a long time ago, he cast himself in the role of protector and he’s good at it. He was scary capable of taking shit and giving it, just as long as he saved me from havin’ to do either. He gets off on this crap. Let him do it.”

I didn’t like the sound of that but I let that part go. I’d talk to Shy about that later.

Instead, I turned to look at Lan. “He can’t go around threatening and intimidating everyone in my life to get me what I want or what he wants me to have.”

Lan grinned at me and replied jauntily, “Sure he can.”

I glared at him.

“Bet your dad does that shit,” Lan went on. Dad did, for me, Rush, Ty-Ty, any of his brothers, anyone he gave a crap about.

God.

I was screwed.

On the ride to King Soopers, I decided to let this go and fight another day. Today needed to be a good day for everybody and anyway, month-to-month worked for me and I doubted Shy stuck my landlord with a knife, so I decided that all’s well that ends without bloodshed.

We got groceries. We had steaks. We drank beer. Lan took off to crash at Shy’s place. I explained to Shy that while he was off terrorizing my landlord, I’d called the hospital and learned they’d already advertised my position so if I wanted it back, I had to apply for it.

His response was, “They’ll pick you, baby.”

Then he picked me, as in picked me up, and carried me to the bedroom.

Commence making love which led us to now.

I broke the silence with a soft, “You… in my bed.”

I closed my eyes when Shy tightened his arms around me and stayed that way, but he said nothing. Then again, the arm thing said it all.

“I’m glad your brother’s back,” I mumbled into his skin, and he gave me another squeeze.

“Me too.”

“It was cool how he surprised you,” I noted.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

I pulled in breath. Then I stated, “Just for the record, before you go off to play biker badass on something that affects me, I’d prefer it if we talked about that thing that affects me first. There were other ways to solve today’s problem. If we decided month-to-month was the way to go and they didn’t give it to me, I could have stayed with Dad and Tyra or Natalie until my life got back on track and I found a place I liked or, if we were there when that time came, we found a place we wanted.”

“My way was faster and less headache,” he replied.

Crap, he had a point.

I sighed.

His body shook, I knew he was silently laughing but I ignored that.

Then he murmured, “Slide off me, Tabby, but do it slow. I like it like that.”