Page 22 of Montana Falls
I might not have put the gun in her hand, but I had potentially loaded the metaphorical bullets.
Glancing around the room, I found Lincoln as he sipped his beer, eyes on the wall of windows, staring into the distance of the built up city and all its skyscrapers. He looked stressed, too. Far too stressed. And he never looked that way about anything except me, which meant he was no doubt almost at the end of his patience for real.
Not a good sign. At all.
“What do we do about Widow and Delilah then? We can’t go home until we find them.” He asked with a slight huff. “I also don’t think he’s done anything wrong, despite what he said. It’s too… too basic. Obvious. Whatever. It just doesn’t make sense and with John coming to the house, I kind of feel like maybe something else happened?”
“I agree.” Misha chimed in. “I trust Darius, and he always said Widow was a good guy, too.”
I had the same thoughts. But I didn’t want to think them. Not because I didn’t want the extra work or hassle, but because all I could imagine was that Cassie had got to Widow and Delilah.
That she had done something to them I could never fix and would haunt me until I died because, like with everything lately, it wasmyfault.
I was failing as a leader and my daddy was no doubt rolling in his grave at the sheer amount of shit that had happened since he’d left me.
“I’m gonna look more into Widow and Delilah now though, as I didn’t get much chance whilst out; I was tracking John instead.” Misha shrugged out of Price’s cuddle, got to his feet and grabbed his backpack from one of the bedrooms beforereturning, setting himself up for yet another long work session with his beautiful brain.
I felt a little bad for relying on him so heavily for such an important task that nobody else here could help him with. But he really didn’t seem to mind, and it had to be done. If it wasn’t, then John would keep causing havoc and that would never do.
I would just make it up to my boyfriend later. With whatever he wanted.
“Have you tried calling Darius?” I wondered. “He may answer you because you are friends now.”
Misha nodded. “He ignored the call but sent a text to say they were safe and would be in touch. I couldn’t trace it, but that doesn’t shock me. Darius is a better hacker than I am.” He loaded his laptop, instantly beginning his hacking and tracking, or whatever it was he was going to do, in order to find our missing people as the other guys started to drink more beers.
I asked questions and showed an interest but most of it went over my head. The same as when he spoke of his anime and comic books or whatever else. I listened, remembered facts as often as I could, but didn’t understand half of it. That was fine, though. Maybe one day it would all stick in my brain or, if not, at least I was trying.
My mama had been into all sorts of strange things. At least they were strange to me. She’d enjoyed learning about bugs and tiny animals that had lots of legs and shells and wings. She’d even liked spiders, and for the life of me, I would never understand that. But it didn’t matter. My daddy had gone with her anywhere she wanted to look at her creatures. He’d had bug homes built in the gardens of our houses, flowers designed for bees planted everywhere, and took her to any sort of talk or show about her beloved tiny animals. He’d learned enough facts and things to talk of the subject for a decade and it was just for her.
Now I did the same. I learned about cars and cartoons and football. I’d watch Formula One, or an anime in a language I didn’t even speak. I’d take an interest in cooking, and boxing and whatever else I needed to because that was what you were supposed to do for those you loved.
It didn’t matter how boring, or odd, I found certain hobbies. If they were important to those I loved, then I would put in interest. Enough interest that eventually I would know more about them – or at least that was my goal with Formula One and NASCAR, just so I could get one up on Lincoln when I knew more than he did.
After a while of us all sitting in silence bar the sounds of Misha’s keyboard, or the racing on the TV, Kody yawned.
“What do we do then?” He put his phone back into the pocket of his jeans, done with his texting and doom scrolling. “Other than wait for Chinese food and sit around for any sort of news.”
“Chinese?” I perked up a little, my mouth salivating already. “I think we just do smart stuff.”
“Like what?” Logan squeezed my thigh from the seat next to me he’d stolen when Misha had moved to the kitchen island, keeping his hand there as my new comfort blanket. “Tell us what you want us to do, Saph. Or we can brainstorm if you’re not sure.”
Playing boss was always fun, and I wouldn’t have changed it for the world. But sometimes, like now, it would have been nice to have a bossier boss who knew what to say.
Someone who wasn’t just confused, stressed, and worried.
Someone like my daddy, who had just done the job and had always been in control, no matter what. At least that’s what he had looked like to me.
“I think we rest and wait for Misha to find something or one of Ivy’s crew to, either.” I gnawed on my lower lip as I wonderedif I ought to wear one of my daddy’s massive faux fur coats and an ushanka just to step into his mindset a little easier, before deciding I would look ridiculous that way. “Like you say earlier, this is not my city. And I will not risk you again to go chasing ghosts.”
As much as I hated sitting around and waiting, there was no other option. I had to be smart. I had to keep the rest of my team – my men – safe and not run around an unknown city chasing gangsters or my missing people or anything else. Trouble was, I was terrible at being patient. Maybe it was the princess in me; I wanted to do things when I felt like it and had never once been told no.
At least I hadn’t before I’d met Lincoln. Now he was the only exception to being denied what I wanted, because I got off on him saying no, and I got off even more when I pushed him further.
“I’m going to call Henley.” With only the slightest nerves, I pulled out my borrowed phone. “She may know something, and like Beau said, she has not run away, so I guess that is a good sign.”
None of the guys put up much of a protest, not that I would have listened this time to them, anyway. I had to do something, and this felt like the most sensible and least dangerous thing to do. It was just a phone call. A no big deal sort of thing.
Henley picked up on the first ring. Fast enough that I knew she had been waiting for me to call, and had been sitting with her phone in her hand.
