“Fuck,” I curse under my breath, feeling pain slice through my chest, the same pain I felt when I saw tears in Maggie’s eyes and heard her soft words.
That’s not love, Sven. You asking that of me is not love.
She was right; me asking that of her had nothing to do with love.
“What did you do?”
“Told her to choose between me and her sister.”
“What the fuck, man?” he rumbles, sounding pissed.
“Yeah.” I agree.
“Jesus, you seriously fucked up.”
“I already know that. Now I need to know what the fuck to do to get out of this mess.”
“Where is she now?” he asks, blowing out a breath, and I know he thinks I’m as fucked as I think I am.
“At her parents’.” When she left, I had Justin follow her to make sure she was, and still is, safe. I wanted to go after her, but after what happened, I didn’t want her to spot my car, get pissed, and get hurt while trying to get away from me.
“Can you go there?” he asks quietly.
“Not sure how that’s gonna go over, and not sure I want the first time I meet her parents to be the same time I’m dragging her kicking and screaming from their house.”
“Kicking and screaming?” He chuckles, but I’m not joking. If I got there and she refused to come home with me, I’d bring her back with me no matter how that came about. “You’re not joking.” His laughter dies and I shake my head, even though he can’t see me do it. “You call her?”
“Yeah, voicemail.”
“Christ, man.”
“What the fuck do I do?” I growl, standing from the couch.
“Go get her,” he states softly. “If it was November, I’d go get her ass and bring her home. No way I’d let her stew on that shit.”
“You think that’s the right move?” I ask, already heading for the door.
“You love her?”
His question has my hand pausing on the handle, and I drop my head forward and close my eyes. “Yeah, man,” I mutter, feeling a pain in my chest at the thought of her not being mine, of losing her.
“Go get her, plead your case, and bring her home.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Anytime, you know that.”
“Yeah, man,” I agree, hanging up the phone. Getting in the car, I have no idea what the fuck I’m gonna say when I see her. I just hope that whatever I come up with is enough to convince her to give me a second chance.
PULLING ONTO THE side of the road, I watch Justin get off a Harley and do a double take. The kid who once looked like a high wind would blow him over, now looks like he could take Teo on in a fight and would come out on top.
I roll down my window when he gets close, and he grins as I ask, “You start doing steroids?”
“Seven-Eleven,” he replies, ignoring my comment. “Good to see you, man.” He places his hand out toward mine and I shake it once.
“She still at her mom and dad’s?” I ask, and his face changes.
“Yeah, she’s still there. All’s quiet.”
“Thanks for looking out, man.”
“You know I got your back, just glad I was in town and could help.”
“You didn’t tell me you we’re still searching for her sister.” The call from Justin telling me Maggie was with her sister was unexpected. I didn’t even know he was in town, let alone following Morgan.
“I was working a separate case and spotted her, followed her then saw she was with Maggie and called you.”
“What case?” I ask studying him and seeing something’s off.
“Talked to Kenton and Kai. Shit’s going down with Paulie,” he says effectively changing the subject.
“Fuck,” I rumble, squeezing the steering wheel.
“Go get your girl. The guys will be in town in a few days. We’ll figure everything out then.”
“Not looking forward to that,” I tell him something he already knows as I look out at the empty desert beyond my windshield.
“We’ll probably set up shop at Kai’s place. He’s got the best location and the best security. The women can all stay there while we figure out our next step.”
Rubbing my forehead, I wonder how the fuck this is gonna go down. We all knew things would come to an end with Paulie, but none of us thought it would be happening this quickly. “Just go get your woman, and the rest can wait.”
“You going back to the city?”
“Yeah, I have a few things to take care of before everyone gets to town.”
“Don’t go off half cocked, Justin. Wait for us to meet.”
“What do you take me for?” he asks, taking a step back, holding his arms out at his sides.
“What the hell happened to you?”
His eyes go darker, a darkness that comes from seeing too much, doing too much. I don’t know what the fuck happened to him, but something flipped in him. But right now, I don’t have time to talk to him about it.
“Go get your girl,” he rumbles as he hits the hood of my SUV once then walks back to his bike and throws one leg over it. He starts it up, the loud rumble sounding through the quiet desert as he takes off.
Turning down the dirt drive toward Maggie’s parents’, I see houses scattered here and there, and lots of green houses between them, along with pens holding goats, chickens, cows, and such. I know from rumors that this community sticks to itself, most people living off the land or using the barter system to live among each other. They make their own rules and don’t accept outsiders often. When I turn down another dirt road, a two-story house appears in the distance. The bright blue color stands out, even in the dark.
Pulling in a deep breath, I let it out and stop in front of the house. The moment I park, the front door opens. As I hop down from the cab, a woman who looks like an older version of Maggie steps out onto the front porch.
“Are you here for my daughter?” she asks in a soft voice that reminds me of the way my mom used to sound when I was a kid before she stopped taking her medication.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“She cried herself to sleep. Didn’t think we could hear her, but the house is old and I heard,” she says as I step onto the bottom step.
Rubbing my chest over my heart, I’m at a loss for words.
“My MoonPie is tough, always has been,” she says quietly, looking over my shoulder. “I don’t know what happened between you two. She didn’t tell us anything, but I know she must love you,” she whispers studying me.
“Maisy,” a man calls, stepping out on the porch, stopping when he spots me. Just from looking at him, I know he’s Maggie’s dad. They have the same eyes, and the same expression when they’re pissed, which he obviously is.
“Who are you?” he demands, letting the door slam close behind him.
“Sven, sir.” I take the last two steps up the porch and stick out my hand. His eyes drop to it then lift to look at his wife.
“Go inside, Maisy.”
“Monroe.”
“Go inside, check on Morgan, and make sure she’s okay,” he tells her, and she looks at me then at her husband before nodding and heading toward the door, stopping when she has it open an inch.