Page 113 of Loud Unspoken Memories

“Hell yes, it is,” Blake says. “Earlier this year, when I told him about Ellie and Maisy, he said something about it being easier not to have anyone because then you have nothing to lose.”

Lucas sits again. “Jesus, Dal. You can’t spend the rest of your life fearful of losing people you love. You’ll die miserable and alone.”

I stare right at him. “Says the guy who pushes away every woman he’s ever loved.”

He huffs loudly, reminding me of how Marti would do it. “This is definitely a case of do as I say and not as I do. I’m a fool.I admit it. You’ve always been the smart one. The stable one. The most rational. Now’s the time to live up to those expectations, brother.”

“Anyone with eyes and ears”—Blake laughs—“hell, even those whocan’thear know how you feel about her and her you. We only spent one night with Marti. Hours even. And everyone knew she was the one. Why can’t you pull your head out of your ass and just admit it?”

“You love her,” Lucas says. “So get on a fucking plane already and go get her.”

It’s something I’ve contemplated at least a dozen times in as many days. But she hasn’t so much as called, texted, or emailed. What if she wants nothing to do with me?

I grab my coat. “Fuck it. It’s Christmas.”

I’m pretty sure my brothers high-five behind me.

“Tell Mom not to hold Christmas dinner,” I say, already halfway down the hall.

Blake calls out, “I’m sure this is one holiday she’ll be happy to celebrate without you.”

In the truck, I scroll through my contacts until I find Quinn Thompson’s name. Quinn has been the Montanas’ private helicopter pilot for years, working not only for my immediate family, but my uncle’s. As usual, he answers quickly.

“Dallas Montana! Well that’s a name that hasn’t popped up on my phone in a good while. How’re they hangin’?”

“Good. Hey, listen, I need a favor.”

He hesitates. I understand why. He’s got a family. It’s Christmas Eve.

“I don’t need you to fly,” I say. “But I was hoping you could use one of your contacts to charter me a plane.”

“I could do that. For when and where?”

“Well… now. I can fly out of the city or White Plains. Destination is Orlando.”

“I see.” There is a hesitation in his voice.

“You don’t think it’ll be doable?”

“Oh, it’s doable. But it’s going to cost you.”

“See, this is one of those times when being rich as shit comes in super handy. Whatever it takes. I can be ready in a few hours. I just have a few errands to run.”

“I’m on it. I’ll text you with the details as soon as I have them. Maybe now you’ll talk your daddy into investing in a private plane?”

I laugh. “My father has never been that flashy. A helicopter he shares with his brother—yes. An entire airplane—he’d rather eat dirt and donate what he would have spent to starving children.”

“Chris Montana is a good man. Orlando, eh? Looks like his son is a good man, too.”

“I see you’ve been keeping up with the rumor mill.”

“Word travels fast around here.”

“Okay, gotta go. Get me that flight.”

“You bet I will.”

I place a few more phone calls and make several necessary stops. Before I can even go home to pack a bag, Quinn texts me.

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