Page 26 of The Question of Us
“I’m down for whatever,” I told him.
“But I like my hair.” He pouted like we were suggesting cutting off one of his hands.
I twisted a lock in my fingers and smiled. “Just think about it.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, then winced. “God, I hate that word. I guess we’re really doing this then.” He looked genuinely nervous for the first time.
“I guess we are,” I answered, equally concerned.
“Yep. Me three.” Gazza launched himself out of his chair and joined us on the couch. “Group hug, kids.” He threw his arms around both of us until all I could see was his bright shirt. It was like being hugged by a giant avocado.
Mads laughed and pushed him away. “You better get ahead on that book you’re working on, then.”
He nodded. “I’ll work late tonight and extra on Sunday. Can I bunk down here?”
“Of course.” Mads switched his attention to me, a sly smile stealing over his face. “Are you going to let Samuel know?”
Good question. Samuel knew Mads intended to follow up on Lee and he’d told me I needed to keep the man safe and be the voice of reason. But I was pretty sure it hadn’t occurred to him that we might leave so quickly, and I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to lay the law down about what we could and couldn’t do before we’d even laid an eye on the place.”
“I’ll let him know once we get there,” I said, avoiding both their eyes.
Mads snorted and shook his head. “You’re going to be in so much trouble.”
I so fucking was. “Nah. He’ll understand.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Madigan
We arrivedin Melbourne on the Monday evening and overnighted at an airport hotel. My healing ear ached like a motherfucker as the plane descended, and both Nick and I were nursing headaches from the lingering effects of our concussions. A good night’s sleep saw to the worst of it, but I was feeling a little jet-lagged, nonetheless.
Tuesday morning started hot and cloudless with a late summer heatwave barrelling its way through Victoria. We collected our two rental cars—a newer model black BMW SUV for Gazza and a bog-standard Kia for Nick and me. It gave us options and meant Gazza could appear to be travelling separate from us, if necessary. Then we’d driven just over three hours northeast through the Victorian high country to Kettleworth, a small country town on the tourist route known for its autumn colour and proximity to the winter ski fields. It was also the closest town to Marty Klein’s horse stud, which, according to Google, bore the unimaginative moniker of M. K. Stud.
We did a quick drive around Kettleworth to get our bearings, then headed for our motel. Nick had found a small place withinwalking distance of the town centre and booked two rooms with a connecting door but on separate accounts. Once we’d settled and cooled the stuffy inside of the serviceable but comfortable motel unit, it was time to let the cat out of the bag.
“You’re there right now?” Samuel’s outrage echoed around the small motel room. “I’d ask why you didn’t tell me, but I think I can guess the reasons, so let’s leave it at that. Do you have a plan? You better. Because if you tell me you’re just going to stroll up and knock on Marty Klein’s door, I will end you myself. And that means all three of you. Do you understand me?”
Gazza and I shared an I-told-you-so look while Nick gave a quick summary of our plan and then adjusted the volume on the speakerphone downward as Samuel blew up.
“I said you needed to have Madigan’s back, not behave like the Three Stooges in the process.”
Nick ignored him. “Oh, and can you drive over and collect Shelby please? We left her with enough food for a couple of days, but she’ll get lonely.”
“I . . . what . . . ? Jesus, Nick.” Samuel sounded close to exploding.
“Well, someone has to feed her,” Nick answered smoothly and even I wanted to slap him.
To his credit Samuel ignored him and pivoted back. “This whole plan is nuts. I won’t allow it.”
Oh boy.I didn’t have to see Nick’s face to know how that little gem had hit home. Did Samuel have a death wish?
“Allow?” Nick repeated the word in a dangerously calm tone. “You don’t get to allow or disallowanythingto do with me, Samuel. We’re all grown-ups here.” He glanced Gazza’s way. “Well, most of us.”
Gazza flipped him off.
Samuel went quiet for a long moment, possibly evaluating how far he could push things without royally pissing Nick off andensuring he wouldn’t be heard at all. “Okay,” he said wearily, and I smiled to myself. Not that far as it turned out. “But if any of you break the law, I won’t be able to help you, even if I was so inclined, which I can assure you I won’t be, understand?”
Nick nodded. “We understand. But we don’t intend to break any laws. If we talk with Lee and he tells us to get lost, then we’ll leave. Simple as that.”
