Page 89 of Tango
I notice how his brothers watch us carefully, how surprised they seem at his gentle touch on my hand. But with everything going on, I shove that aside for later. “I love him, Dylan.” I whisper the words, almost afraid to say them out loud for fear of what will happen if he doesn’t survive.
I won’t just lose a friend.
Or someone I’ve come to adore.
I’ll be losing love.
My love.
“I know you do,” he replies softly.
“I’m so sorry. To all of you,” I add louder. “I brought you all into this. It’s my fault he’s back there.”
“It’s not your fault at all,” Nova says as she reaches over and takes my other hand. “The only one at fault is the one who pulled the trigger.”
“Darren,” I growl. “I want to kill him.”
“No matter how badly we all want that, vengeance belongs to God,” Elliot says as he crosses his arms. “And there is nothing we can dole out that can even come close to what He can do.”
“I know that. But—Tucker— We were so close to getting free. It was right there.”
The waiting room doors slide open, and Frank Loyotta walks in. His expression is hard, his eyes red. He takes his hat off and looks around. When he sees all of us sitting here, his hardened expression softens. “Any news?”
“Not yet,” Bradyn replies.
He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what else to say. Ramiro told me everything before they hauled him away. I can’t believe he would be capable of this. I just—” He trails off and closes his eyes as a few tears slip free. “I never would have thought him capable of anything like this,” Frank says again then turns to me. “Alice, I’m so incredibly sorry for doubting your innocence.”
“It’s okay,” I manage.
Frank nods once then continues toying with the hat in his hands. He’s nervous. Why is he nervous? “Can I—can I wait with you all?” he asks.
“Of course you can.” Elliot stands and clasps a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Please join us. We can use all the prayer we can get right now.”
Frank visibly relaxes, taking a seat beside Elliot as he sits again.
The room descends into silence once again, with only the occasional faint ringing of a phone to keep us company.
Lord. I can’t even finish the thought because there are no new words to pray. I’ve already prayed them all. Closing my eyes, I bow my head and simply focus on Tucker. The way his eyes light up when he’s smiling.
The dimple barely visible beneath the thick stubble on his face.
Lord, please.
The doors slide open again, and a group of people rush inside. Ruth and Tommy Hunt come in first, heading straight for where we’re sitting. Ruth’s eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, her hair a mess. Tommy doesn’t look much better with his hair on end as though he’s been running his hands through it.
Lani is right behind them, her expression serious, eyes red from crying. Riley’s wife, Jules, and Bradyn’s wife, Kennedy, are with her, walking on either side like pillars of strength for the youngest Hunt. She doesn’t join the rest of us though—she splits off from Jules and Kennedy, heading toward the nurse’s station.
If anyone can get answers, it’s her.
The brothers embrace their wives—all of them letting the weight they’ve been holding falter just a bit when they wrap their arms around their spouses. I gently squeeze Dylan’s hand because, right now, we’re all each other has.
My heart aches, and the tears come again. It’s all I can do not to crumble into a puddle on the floor.
“Hey, sweetie,” Ruth says as she crosses over. Dylan releases me and stands, accepting a hug from his mother.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell her.
“You listen to me.” Tommy kneels in front of me. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Alice. This wasn’t you. Bradyn told us what you did when he called. We know that you fought off Ramiro. That you were able to get pressure on Tucker’s—” His voice breaks. “We know what you did for our son. This is, in no way, shape, or form, your fault. Okay, kiddo?”
