Page 83 of Tanner

Because I found your note on the counter and it hasn’t left my head since. Because Savannah is falling apart and so are you. Because I care about what happens to both of you a lot more than I should.

He didn’t say any of it. He said, “Because you don’t need to do this on your own.”

Something flickered in Tanner’s face. Anger first and then fear followed by a flash of hurt that was gone so fast Miles almost thought he’d imagined it.

Tanner looked away first. At the floor. At the bus. At Savannah. Anywhere but him.

“She needs home,” Miles said quietly.

That hit. He saw it in the way Tanner swallowed. “She needs me,” Tanner shot back.

“I know.”

“You don’t know anything.”

Miles nodded. “I know you panicked.”

Tanner’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t.”

“I’m not saying it to use it against you.”

“Then don’t say it at all.”

People kept moving past to board and now the line was almost gone. The driver was watching the room more than the tickets.

Miles lowered his voice further. “I read the letter.”

Tanner froze.

Savannah sniffed and whispered, “Miles.”

That was the first time she’d lifted her head enough to see him properly. Her lashes were stuck together with tears. Her lower lip trembled when she reached one hand out a little and then curled it back into Tanner’s hoodie instead.

He wanted to move closer for Savannah, but he didn’t. He kept his boots planted where they were.

“Tanner.” He waited until Tanner looked at him again. “No uniform. No radio. No one else. That was on purpose.”

Tanner’s fingers flexed on the bag handles. “How’d you find us?”

“The house was empty and Mrs. Hemsworth had the spare key. Cody said public place first if you had her with you.” He held Tanner’s gaze. “TJ knows enough not to put this over the radio.” The mention of TJ made Tanner flinch. Miles saw it and added, “Nothing official. Not yet.”

“Yet,” Tanner repeated.

“I’m not going to bullshit you. If you disappear with Savannah and keep disappearing, I can’t hold that line forever.”

Tanner’s breathing turned ragged. “So this is still a threat.”

“No. It’s me telling you the truth before somebody else gets the chance to be involved.”

The driver called out again, impatient now. “Last boarding.”

The bus door stayed open and Tanner looked at it.

Miles watched the conflict on Tanner’s face. Get on. Run. Don’t get on. Savannah crying. Miles in front of him. The old panic and the new life grinding against each other.

“You think they’ll take her,” Miles said. It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be.

Tanner’s laugh came out wrong. Thin and wrecked. “You think they won’t?”