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He arched an eyebrow, body loose, his hold on my wrist far from it. “If I let you up, are you going to do something stupid?”
“No.” I wasn’t. I’d never been floored with such speed or ease. Jesus, who was this guy? How did Lila know him?
“Excellent.” His grin stretched wider. Removing his booted foot from my chest, he changed his grip on my wrist with a subtle twist of his own, wrapped his hand around my forearm, and hauled me to my feet.
“Sorry,” he said again, releasing my wrist and taking a step back. “I’m not a fan of getting punched, even if I deserve it. Probably should have cleared my throat first.”
Brushing down the front of the white shirt I’d been wearing since that morning, I dipped my head in acknowledgement. “All good. How’d you get in?”
“Bathroom window. Doors make me nervous.” He gave me the once-over, one side of his mouth curling. “Nice threads.”
I gave my shirt and tuxedo pants a quick glance. “I was meant to be getting married five hours ago.”
“And now we’re going to save your fiancée from a fuck-knuckle, right?”
A dry snort tore at the back of my throat. “Now I’m going to save my fiancée and bash in the brains of Aloysius White while doing so.”
He grimaced. “I tell you what? You rescue Ronnie, I’ll deal with the fuck-knuckle.”
Narrowing my eyes, I studied him. “I didn’t tell you her name.”
“No, but I had thirty minutes since getting your message. I do my research before I turn up.”
“How do you know Lila?” I needed to know. For my own peace of mind. I was going into what was likely the most significant confrontation of my life, facing damn near certain death. I needed to know who Tac was, and why Lila had called him in.
He rubbed at the back of his neck, giving me a look my gut told me was schooled to seem relaxed and laidback. “Work. That’s pretty much all I can say. We moved in the same circles for work, and we both retired around the same time.”
“Clearly, you’re not talking about veterinarian work.”
He laughed. “Clearly, I’m not. But I can tell you, she got her fair share of practicing how to stitch up an angry mutt on me.” He lifted the side of the T-shirt he wore, revealing a hideous scar that ran the length of his torso, from just under his armpit to the top of his hipbone.
“Fuck.” Even I was impressed.
“Anyways, we got work to do.”
“We do.” I narrowed my eyes at him again. “But I gotta ask, why are you here and not Lila? Can you tell me that?”
A sharkish smile stretched his lips again, and his blue eyes seemed to twinkle. “Sometimes, you just need an Aussie to fuck up shit that can’t be fucked up by a Yank.”
I should have been insulted.
He grinned wider. “You ready for the fun?”
* * * *
Tac was insane.
Certifiable.
Had to be. His “rough” plans for what he’d be doing while I’d be busy talking to Aloysius White were…well, insane.
Of course, if it wasn’t for Tac even getting close to White wouldn’t possible so I had to hope to God the crazy Australia wasn’t all talk. If Lila trusted him, I had to as well.
For twenty-five minutes, we planned our approach in the grimy motel room, my respect for him—and to be honest, fear of him—growing. I didn’t learn anything more about him, like why he was in the US, or why Lila trusted him, but I accepted one thing easily: he was what I needed to face White. To save Ronnie. To bring her home.
Once she was home, I was cashing in everything I owned, buying a yacht, and we were going to fucking sail around the world. Away from everything. Just me, her, and Groot.
Now, sixty minutes after I’d sent the text to Tac, I was standing at Aloysius White’s front door.
