Page 111 of Tate
“No. Wait—Mother.” Glo turned to her mother, her throat closing. “Tate?—”
“He’s trouble, Gloria. Certainly, you can see that.”
She looked at Tate, shook her head. “Don’t go. Don’t quit. Stay?—”
But his eyes had darkened. “No, Glo. This won’t work. I can’t stand on the sidelines watching you with another guy?—”
“I don’t want another guy, Tate—I want you?—”
“Please, Gloria. Don’t embarrass yourself.”
“Come with me.” Tate took a step toward her. “We’ll go back to the ranch—you can write, the Belles can get back together.”
“I am in the toughest political race of my entire career, and if you hadn’t noticed, last night I switched parties. I need my daughter here, by my side.” Glo’s mother slid her hand into Glo’s.
Tate’s gaze never moved from hers. “Your mother is manipulating you, Glo.”
“Don’t be absurd. If anyone is manipulating you, it’s this man. This is not your life, Gloria. You have a future. Don’t let him throw it away.”
If you love me, you’ll stay.The words rebounded in her head, and for a second, she was weeping into David’s chest. Then, to her horror, the words emerged in a choked whisper. “If you love me, you’ll stay.”
His breath caught. “Really? C’mon, Glo.” His eyes were hard in hers. “This can’t be what you want. Where did the woman who used to paint on a tattoo and wear leather onstage go? I miss that girl. Now…you’ve vanished. You’re all things to all people. But who are you? And what do you want? Me? Your mother?”
Her mouth opened.
“See? I told you—he only cares about himself. Which is why he’s going to get you into trouble,” her mother snapped. “Get out of my house.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. He narrowed his eyes and walked over to his duffel and picked it up, threw it over his shoulder.
Looked at Glo.
“Please, come with me, Glo.”
Her lungs stopped working. Yes—yes?—
“I meant what I said last night. I love you. I have for months, and I…I’d give my life for you.” His eyes were broken, reddened. “Please.” He held out his hand.
Her mother’s hand remained locked in hers. “I need you Glo. More than ever.” And, to her horror, her mother’s voice broke. “Please stay. Help me change the world.”
She looked at her mother.
“Tate is impulsive,” her mother said. “Sure, he’s brave, but that kind of bravery is going to get him killed. It almost did, in Vegas. He’ll die, just like David. And then where will you be, Glo?”
She drew in a breath. Looked at Tate, her eyes blurry. “Tate, I…”
Tate’s jaw tightened, and he dropped his hand. “Wow,” he said quietly. “Did I read that wrong.” Then he picked up his briefcase and headed barefoot out the front door.
Don’t go! She wanted to scream it, but the words clogged inside her.If you love me, you’ll stay.
Sly closed the door behind Tate.
Her mother pulled her into a hug. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart.” She leaned back and met Glo’s eyes. “Let’s have some breakfast. Then you need to pull yourself together. We have work to do.”
11
Ford leaned against the kitchen counter, the morning sun streaming into his tiny base housing apartment. He might have more room in a Zodiac. “I’m telling you, RJ, the drive back to San Diego was the worst eighteen hours of my life.”
And after BUD/S Hell Week and SERE—Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape—training, that was saying something. But at least during training, once he pushed past the physical agony, it became a head game of survival.
