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I was also in contact with Willy, who was losing his absolute shit and not half as worried about chasing me off. He’d told me I was being damn stupid, that I could either tell him where I was or he’d hunt me down personally. Eventually, I’d had to cave and tell him where I was before he tore apart the whole town, looking for me.
Willy had no concept of boundaries when it came to the people he loved, and if I was being honest, I really needed someone. Finnegan was great, but in the same way that the fridge was great. Or the occasional lamp was great. He was there, doing his job, but his job wasn’t to keep me entertained. It wasn’t to hold the baby so I could take a pee. It wasn’t any of that.
If I let one of the guys come over, not only was I painting a target on his back, but they’d all want to come over. And if that happened, I may as well have just gone home to Rocco’s mansion.
Some days, I needed Willy. Willy had known me when I was a scared little kid, whose dad had just been stabbed in a carjacking and died. Willy had held me together when I realized I was an orphan with no friends. I loved my guys, with all my heart and soul, but sometimes, I just needed my best friend to hold me together and tell me everything was going to be okay.
Finnegan had not been impressed. But eventually, after I’d pulled an extremely diva-ish “I’m your boss and you do what I say” move, he relented. I felt like an asshole. I was not that person. But I needed my best friend right about now.
The knock on the door had Finnegan pulling his gun and directing me toward the master bedroom. I hoped it was Willy, but just in case it wasn’t, I picked up Bobbi-June and hid in the bedroom.
“Who the fuck are you?”
The very clear baritone of Willy had me sighing with relief. Stepping out of the bedroom, I ran across the living room straight toward him, the baby clutched in my arms. He turned from trying to stare down Finnegan just in time to catch me.
“Aw, Tally.” He didn’t tell me it would be okay. He didn’t tell me that he could make it all better. He just walked me backwards into the living room and hugged me and Bobbi-June tightly. “Who’s the big, gay Goliath?” he murmured in my ear, probably to distract me from my crying, and I gotta admit, it worked. My eyes snapped toward Finnegan. I mean, I’d suspected, but it was interesting to hear it confirmed by Willy.
I pulled back, sniffling a little. “I’m sorry. Willy, this is my temporary bodyguard, Finnegan. Finnegan, this is Will, my best friend.”
They continued to eye each other in some kind of macho standoff. I wasn’t exactly sure who won, because Willy tore his focus back to me. “Rocco made you get security?” I nodded. “Good. I might forgive him one day for driving you in front of a train and halving my life expectancy. God, the idea of losing you, Tally. You’re my best friend—you know that, right?”
I nodded again, snuggling into his chest and letting his comfort soothe me. He let me relax there for a little while, until finally, he let out a large sigh.
“Babe, I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you need to give me the baby while you go and have a long, hot shower. And I mean long. I’ll make you dinner and feed this little cherub. You smell like an old bag of Doritos. Go take a minute to collect yourself.”
I laughed, because that was such a bitch thing to say. Willy would always tell it to me straight.
“It’s going to be okay, isn’t it?” I asked him softly, my voice small and pathetic.
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
FORTY-EIGHT
HAYES
The downfall of Brick Willtot was almost anticlimactic.
After chasing off my girlfriend and nearly ending my life, Brick was picked up for conspiracy to commit murder on a Sunday morning, while he was asleep in his pajamas. His house was raided, and all sorts of shit was seized.
Nothing was a smoking gun, per se. There was no shrine to the baby, or photographs of Tally with her eyes scratched out, or anything like that. What they did find was a burner phone, the only number in the phone book being that of the kid who’d been charged with attempted murder.
According to the detectives, the only communication on it was a message from the kid, saying he wasn’t sure he could do it. Brick had messaged back that the best NASCAR drivers were decisive. If he couldn’t commit to his word, how could he commit to a team?
None of it said Murder Tally Palmer to get a job, but it was enough to charge him.
The final nail in Brick’s coffin, however, was that the private investigator had come forward to say that Brick had offered him two million dollars to kill Tally and Rocco. With both witnesses corroborating, it didn’t look good for Brick.
I hoped he rotted in the pits of Hell, personally.
The press had picked it up quickly, and there were news vans parked outside the gates of the community, which meant we were trapped here for a little while longer. I missed Tally with a physical ache that was far worse than the one in my ribs. We all did, and it was making us mean and testy. How Jesse hadn’t smothered us both in our sleep was actually a miracle.
I rolled out of bed with a wince. I’d be glad when the ribs healed completely. Norton sat at the nursery door, whining softly. If I could have reached down and scratched his head, I would have. As it was, with the boot and the ribs, I couldn’t do any more than rub my toes along his rump.
“Don’t worry, boy. I’m going to get our girls today.”
Some of my pining for her was negated by the fact that I knew wherever she was, she was safe. Rocco had hired some ex-mercenary to make sure no one got within ten feet of her or Bobbi-June.
Jesse was sitting on the couch when I walked into the living room, the television blaring. “The charges laid against NASCAR giant Brick Willtot have shocked the motor racing world, with some coming out in support of the man, but many more condemning his actions.”
