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“It’s not him,” I say. “It’s not.” I turn to Rick. “I don’t know who that was, Rick, but I really think my mother was murdered. It feels like what’s happening now is tied to that, but that’s not possible, right?”
Rick shares a look with Adam and Smith and then his hands are back on my arms, in that way he does when he wants to hold onto me and never let go. He’s staring down at me and only me. “I don’t know what this is, baby. I don’t know what happened to your mother. I don’t know who that man was with your father, but we’ll find out. Together. We’ll do this together. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because we’re better together and no one is taking that from us.”
“Promise?”
“The biggest fucking promise of the century.”
I laugh, but it’s a choked laugh, shards of bitterness lodged in my throat. “Any donuts left?” I ask. “I think I need a donut.”
“Hell yeah,” Rick says. “Let’s eat donuts.”
Adam stands. “I’m in.”
“Count me in, too,” Smith says, pushing to his feet. “Let’s eat some donuts.”
And so, we do. We gather in the center of the kitchen as we eat donuts. And for a tiny little moment, I have three big men standing around me stuffing sugar in their faces. For a magical window of time, there is nothing but food and friends. It’s a sanity break. The kind my mother used to call “necessary.” She also used to call those sanity breaks the calm that allows reason where there is no reason. And with reason, we find purpose. And we can’t find purpose without control.
She was right.
I decide right then, with a glazed donut in my hand, that control starts now. Volcanic explosions of emotions and fear, ends now. My parents were warriors. I need to be a warrior. Every action that I take from this point forward has to be calculated and planned. I have to be prepared in all areas, and ready to protect myself with more than my sketchpad and pencil.
I finish off a donut and dust off my hands, opening the drawer to remove my new, shiny, and extra special Sig Sauer P238. I settle it inside my purse, fixing Savage himself in a pointed look. “Let’s go shoot something.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Savage
Candy baby wants to go shooting. She really is the girl of my dreams but that was never really in question. “You okay with leaving these bastards here at the house?” I ask. “Because I can kick them out.”
“Stay,” she says, eyeing Adam and Smith. “If you two find my father, I’ll even bring you back Alamo Café. Okay, I’ll do that anyway.”
Adam arches a brow. “Alamo Café?” he asks, dodging the awkward topic of her father, who should have been reachable by now. I know it. He knows it. I’m certain Candace knows it too but is in denial.
“Mexican food with fresh tortillas,” I explain. “The only way to eat Mexican food. Welcome to Texas. She’ll bring you food and I’ll bring you little blow-up arm floaties in case you want to go for a swim to cool off. Because I’m a lifesaver.”
Adam and Smith roll their eyes while Candace laughs. “You’re so ridiculously stupid for a brilliant man.” She tilts her chin and offers me her mouth. “I love it.”
And I love the fuck out of her. I catch her chin. “Good. Plenty more where that came from.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Smith snaps. “It’s all we can do to make sense of half of what he says as it is.”
“You understand the way I get my job done, though, don’t you?” I challenge.
Smith’s eyes meet mine and he gives a nod. “Respect there, man. Respect. But you’re still a pain in the ass.”
I give him a wink. “Love you, too, you little piss-ant ground pounder.” I give Adam the finger and we’re all laughing as Candace and I exit to the garage, but inside that laughter is the hollowness of worry. Her worry for her father and the only way I fix that is us finding her father alive. Outside of that, she’s already got the right idea: shoot something. It works for me.
Once we’re inside the Porsche 911, I eye Candace and her missing seatbelt. She never forgets her seatbelt. Proof that she might be all about donuts and jokes on the outside, but inside, she’s freaking out. “Woman,” I scold, reaching over her and clicking it in place, my mouth lingering over hers, arm pressed to her breast. “You don’t ride with a guy like me without buckling up.”
Her hand settles on my jaw, and the laughter of moments before is gone. “Thank you for coming back for me, Rick.”
I cover her hand with mine and hold it between us. “Are you really thanking me for coming back to where I belong? I was a fool to leave.”
