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And I’m the one who has to shake Rick back to his senses.
CHAPTER FOUR
Candace
All eyes turn to Asher as he pops the data drive Rick hid at his mother’s grave into his computer. We’re all staring at him, this blond, tatted up, gorgeous man who looks like a rocker, and hacks like a geek, waiting for him to tell us what he finds, when his cellphone rings. He stops what he’s doing and grabs his phone from the table next to him. “The wifey,” he says, showing us the caller ID that actually says “wifey.” “She worries,” he adds. “Gotta take this.” He punches a key on his phone and speaks through his Bluetooth. “Hey, baby. Yeah, I miss you, too.” He laughs. “Yes. Yes, I know. What if we get a dog to keep you company? And a cat. We have a client that got a dog and a cat.”
The call is sweet.
Rick isn’t having it.
“What the hell?” Rick snaps. “Tell her you love her and you’ll call her back and talk dirty to her later.”
It’s so very Rick Savage, and his relationship with these men really is proving so very brotherly in a way that has me wanting to laugh and cry for him, happy tears, not sad. He needed family and they are family. His confession at the graveyard before Wes showed up comes back to me with a powerful impact that douses my anger. He came back for me. He sat in my driveway. He never gave up on us.
Asher grimaces. “I need to call you back, baby. Savage is being an ass.” He laughs at something his “wifey” says and replies with, “If we talk dirty right now it will really piss him off though. You in?”
“You want to talk dirty, Asher?” Rick taunts. “Because I can come over this table and talk all kinds of dirty to you. In fact, I know a few words that will retract your balls right up to your ass.”
Asher barks out laughter and says, “Gotta go, baby,” before he disconnects and grins at Rick. “I hung up because I like my balls right where they are and you’re freaky enough to actually try to relocate them.”
I laugh and Asher winks at me, before flexes his fingers over his keyboard. “Now. Where were we?” He begins to punch keys and after about two minutes Rick becomes “The Two Minute Man” and loses patience. “Well?” he demands. “What’s on there?”
Asher smirks and casts him a look. “Jesus, man, you really don’t know what’s on your own data drive, do you? You’re like an old man. Remind me never to give you vodka.”
Rick folds his arms in front of that perfect chest of his, feet planted wide. “If you drank as much vodka as I did, you’d forget as soon as I reminded you.”
Rick says things, wild, ridiculous things, but this comment isn’t delivered like a joke. The words are flat. The words are fact. I’m not the only one who notices. The room falls silent, the kind of silence a pin drop could shatter. I can barely perceive of a reality where Rick Savage had to bury his life in booze and I wish I could turn back time, and hold on tighter, the way I plan to hold on now.
“Money can’t buy happiness,” Adrian murmurs. “But it can buy vodka.” He lifts the cup he’s drinking out of. “This cup might have vodka in it. I feel ya, man.”
Rick’s gaze lands hard on Adrian and there is no friendship in his stare. He doesn’t like him and I wonder if that’s because he sees a little too much of himself in the other man for comfort.
“Okay,” Asher says, punching a few keys on his MacBook. “Here’s what we have.” He presses his hands on the table. “It looks like details on ten missions. All domestic. Any idea why you documented and hid these ten missions?”
“I have not one fuck of an idea,” Rick says. “Email me the documents so I can see them on my phone.”
“My job now is to find a way to connect them to Gabriel.” Asher rubs his hands together. “Someone better order room service.”
“I’m in on that,” Adrian chimes in.
“Can you email me as well?” I ask. “Maybe something will ring a bell for me?”
“I don’t want it on your phone or digital imprint,” Rick says, eyeing Asher. “We’ll print it for her.”
From there, there’s a lot of debate over what food to order and by the time room service arrives, Rick and I have moved in closer to the rest of the team and claimed a couple of seats. By the time the food is devoured, I’m reviewing the missions Rick documented, looking for anything that feels familiar. What becomes familiar quickly, is that most of Rick’s missions included someone dying. I knew this, of course. He’s told me. And these missions aren’t just his missions. My father was involved. I also don’t miss the fact that these were carried out on bad actors who intended to hurt our country. Rick had morals. He didn’t kill the little boy, not intentionally, at least. He tried to save him.
