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But she still wasn’t discussing Morgan with them.
* * *
MORGAN WASN’T LETTING Sylvie out of his sight. If he had to hold on to her like this for a week, he’d do it.
“Let me go,” she screeched at him, trying to pull her arm away from his grasp.
“Oh, I don’t think so.” He had to clench his jaw to keep from saying all the things he wanted to say to her. “I’m not letting you go anywhere until we’ve settled this.”
“There’s nothing to settle.”
“Oh, yes, there is.” He dragged her across the parking lot to Dewey’s pickup. The man was nowhere to be seen, damn it.
And neither was Tara, for which he was thankful. Her brothers would get her out of here, keep her safe. The ranchers were good, solid men. The kind of men he could count on.
Not that he’d ever get that chance. He’d known instantly that they didn’t think too highly of him.
Blue lights strobed through the night. He didn’t have the time he’d hoped to deal with Sylvie. And he certainly wasn’t letting the cops get her—he’d never see her again.
“Look,” he pulled his soon-to-be-ex around to face him. “If you want to avoid the cops, then you’d better cooperate with me.”
This close, even in the dim light, he saw the differences in her. Taking her chin in his abused hand, he tilted her face up to him. She wouldn’t look into his eyes. “What are you on?”
“Nothin’.” She pulled her chin from his grasp, briefly glancing angrily at him.
That glance was enough to show him the over-bright sparkle in her eyes. She was high. Even high, it took her only an instant to decide he was the lesser of the evils. “Okay,” she begrudgingly agreed.
He peered back at her, looking for some sign, some sliver of the girl he’d been attracted to not that long ago. Was she gone? Or just buried too deep to see? Had she ever really been there, or had his wishful thinking made it all up?
They’d had some good times. They’d brought Brooke into this world. Where was that girl?
She tried to pull away. “Come on.” Morgan wove through the rows of cars, keeping his head down and heading toward the road. He wasn’t going to walk on it, that would be too obvious, but he recalled a trail on the other side of those trees. Thank goodness he’d taken the time to learn the area on his runs.
The trail followed the creek that ran behind Tara’s diner. He’d used it the last time he’d fought, coming to her door much more quickly than following the road.
He wasn’t going to stop at Tara’s diner, though. No, he intended to keep her out of this mess completely. He dragged Sylvie along with him, kept his hand tight, but not bruising tight, around her wrist.
“Morgan, stop. You’re hurting me,” she whined.
“No, I’m not. And no, we’re not stopping until I’m sure those cops aren’t coming after us.” He kept going, and she managed to keep up.
The sound of rushing water was loud in the night, and the ground beneath their feet was soggy. It slowed their progress, but Morgan didn’t think anyone was coming after them. Finally, the trail widened to a spot that was almost big enough to be a beach of sorts. He turned to face Sylvie.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He almost didn’t yell the words.
“Whatcha talking about? Your new girlfriend don’t like the circle?” Sylvie’s voice sounded slurred, almost like a four-year-old’s taunting him.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” He couldn’t give her that piece of information to use against him.
“You walked in holding her hand.”
“Was that what that little stunt was about?” He didn’t hear footsteps or anything behind them. “Start explaining. And start with where the hell Brooke is.”
Sylvie was struggling to catch her breath, but that didn’t stop her from leaning against him. “Ah, come on, Morgan. When did you get to be so not fun?”
“Life isn’t all about fun.” She was trying to work her hand free from his grasp. “It’s not going to work.” He tightened his fingers ever so slightly. “Where is Brooke?”
