Page 56 of Truck Stop Titan

“Busted,” I whispered, claiming her hand and dragging her to the top of the stairs.

She headed toward Mim’s room, but I grabbed her shoulders and aimed her the opposite direction. “Go do what you gotta do. I’ll hang with the kids.”

With a nod, she turned. Stopped. Whipped around to face me again. “We need to talk about what just happened.”

“We need to talk about you staying in Whisper Springs.”

“You know I can’t.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I nudged her toward her door, smacked her ass, then joined the kids in Mim’s room, making myself comfortable on the bed while they dug paper and crayons out of the closet and set them up on the small table.

When I’d had a moment to clear my head, I yanked my cell out of my pocket, pulled up a number I wasn’t supposed to have, and hoped to God the man would answer.

“Carlos Rossi speaking.”

“Time to pay the piper, old man.

# # #

The kids had just finished a cartoon marathon when footsteps fell heavy in the hallway. Tango pushed through the door, his fiery red eyes meeting mine. His glare was not one of anger, though. The guy looked damn near defeated.

I didn’t have to ask. The fact he’d come alone, and he wasn’t kicking my ass, told me everything I needed to know.

Fuck.

Moriah sat up straight, then started to stand, but Tango stopped her with a head shake. He stepped closer to his son, cleared his throat. Blinked. Cleared it again, then, voice hoarse, he whispered, “Hey, Rockster. I need you to come with me, buddy.”

“Dad!” Rocky yelled, jumping off the bed and into his father’s arms, wrapping around him like a monkey hitching a ride. That was all it took for Tango to lose his shit. He buried his face in Rocky’s neck and sobbed.

Rocky squeezed his dad tighter, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t envy that man. How the fuck did you tell your kid his grandpa had just died?

Father and son left the room. Mim watched them leave, then looked at me with a worried expression. Moriah joined Mim on the bed, and while she started to explain, I followed Tango, hanging back out of respect.

Downstairs, Tucker and Aida followed Lettie into her room, her face a ghostly white, her expression blank.

Tango carried his son to the main living room, where Slade waited. The three of them huddled together. Not a chance in hell I was gonna stick around for that show. The kid would be devastated. I couldn’t watch while his parents broke his heart.

I turned to leave, made it to the kitchen, when I heard Rocky scream, “No, Daddy. Not Grandpa. No!”

My knees buckled, the weight of his emotion a kick in the gut.

James was gone.

One of the good guys.

Tucker’s daughter started to cry, her wails carrying down the hall. I rinsed my face in the kitchen sink, grabbed one of the baby’s bottles out the fridge, and made my way back to Lettie’s room. Aida struggled with her daughter, who was clearly not happy with all the negative vibes, and although I wasn’t family, although I did not belong in that mansion, I could not watch them struggle and do nothing.

I cleared my throat, catching Tucker’s attention, held up the bottle, and gestured to the baby. Aida shot me glare. Tucker whispered something in her ear, and Aida passed over her daughter. Fuck me, that little angel smelled sweet, like innocence, and I hoped to God nobody noticed my deep inhale.

“We’ll be upstairs,” I said.

Tucker nodded in thanks, and I left them to their grief.

The baby cried and fidgeted in my arms all the way back to Mim’s room, but the moment I set her on the bed next to the girls, she quieted, hiccupped, then crawled into Mim’s lap, snatching the book out of her hand.

Mim smiled.

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