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  “Who’s that?” Tyler comes up behind me and slips her small hand into mine. She tugs on my arm, cupping her hand around her mouth like she wants to ask me something quietly. I lean down and she whispers, “Is he the bad man?”

  I stand back up and look at her pointedly. “There is no bad man, and no, that’s Daddy’s friend.”

  “Are you Jags?” she yells out. That’s my daughter. No filter.

  “No fucking way,” Jags says before slapping his hand over his mouth. “Sorry, dude. Dude! You have a daughter? Is she yours? She can’t be. She’s way too pretty.”

  “Yes, that’s my dad, and he’s pretty too. So, that’s very mean,” she says, giving us all a good laugh.

  Jags’s eyes move over to me, giving me a once-over. “Are you his—” he looks down at my hand and back up to my face. “No shit. You’re his wife. You two got married. You’re married and you have a kid. And here I thought you’ve been dead.”

  “My daddy isn’t dead, Mr. Jags. He’s right here.”

  Jags walks in and kneels down in front of Tyler. “Your daddy is the best man I’ve ever known. You are one lucky little girl, princess.” He cups his hand around the back of her head and gives her a kiss on her temple. “God, she’s cute. I’m so fucking—” He slaps his hand over his mouth again. “Shit—Ugh. Sorry. I’m really happy for you, man. So what’s the deal? What’s going on? Fill me in.”

  Tango looks at me, cueing me to take Tyler out of the room. I try to take her out of the room, but she fights me. “I want to know what Daddy and Mr. Jags are talking about,” she argues.

  “No, we need to go take a bath before we go to Aunt Sasha’s tonight.” Honestly, I wish I could stay in the room to hear the gritty truth of whatever Tango is going to tell Jags, because I’m guessing the version he gave me is the G-rated one.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TANGO

  “SHE’S FUCKING HOT,” Jags says. “How’d that happen?”

  “It’s a long ass story,” I tell him.

  “Okay, here’s a better question. You had stage-four lung cancer and here you are healthy as a horse. Why don’t you start there?”

  “That’s also a long ass story. Look, here’s the shortened version: I got some help, you know, to get better. And the help I got wasn’t exactly a legalized method. Because of that I had to deal with some shit, but I made it through, and I’m still alive, so I think it was a win-win.” Still talking, I walk into the kitchen and grab two beers out of the fridge, tossing one over to him. “Anyway, yesterday I ran into one of the assholes who wasn’t so happy with me a few years back. They want—” I mouth Tyler’s name. “They think Cali and I conceived her after I was administered a treatment. Now they want to do testing on her. Their testing isn’t for kids and there’s no way in hell I’m letting them take her. Plus, I know I knocked Cali up before any of the treatment shit happened. It’s a fucking mess.”

  Jags looks like his head is spinning, maybe from the holes in my story or maybe for the fact that I’m alive and should most definitely be dead. “Something cured your cancer?”

  “Like I said, it’s a long story.”

  He puts his hands up in defense. “I get it. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

  “Anyway, these men don’t give up. Yesterday was a warning. We’re getting Tyler somewhere safe tonight, but once we do that, we gotta reel those assholes in and—”

  “Rid them?”

  I give him a quick wink and place my beer down on the table next to my sixth cup of coffee. It’s just that kind of day. “Do you have anything with you?”

  “Yeah, man. I’m prepared for whatever. Where do you think you’ll find them?” he asks.

  “They’ll find us. I was getting a coffee yesterday when they showed up.”

  “They’ve got you tapped, huh? How are you going to get Tyler somewhere without them being clued in?”

  “I was thinking we could take your car,” I tell him. I can see the look on his face. The worry about putting his precious car in danger, or it could be the concern of putting a three-year-old in the back seat of his “woman”. That’s what he used to call his car. Since he doesn’t have an actual woman, he treats his car like one. Maybe he does have a girl now, who knows.

  “Yeah, we can do that.” He sits down beside me. “So, here’s the plan: we drop off the kid, we take care of the medicine men, and we go pick up a chick for me. Sounds like a doable night, right?”

  “Dude if we get rid of these assholes, I’ll take you to the club and buy you a lifetime subscription of lap dances.”

  He offers me his hand. “You’ve you got yourself a deal, my good man.”

  Cali turns the corner first, gesturing for us to stop talking in case we’re still discussing the plan. Tyler follows her with her Doc McStuffins backpack pulled tightly over her shoulders and her Pooh bear in her hand. “Okay, let’s do this so you guys can go fight off the bad guys,” Tyler groans.

  “What did you tell her?” I laugh at Cali.

  “Nothing,” she mutters. “This is all her.”

  We all load into Jags’s car and head off to Sasha’s. I’m in the front seat with the mirror down in front of me, which allows me to look at Cali and the worry filling her face. I want to her hold her hand and tell her it’s okay. She’d slap me, and tell me she’s fine, but I’d still try to comfort her because I know she secretly loves when I comfort her. She’ll just never admit it, and that’s fine. I’ve broken through her shell enough times to know exactly what goes on in that mind of hers.

  The hour drive goes by quickly and it doesn’t take long before we pull into Sasha’s driveway, up behind Sasha’s VW beater. The two of them have been dating for years and Cali keeps telling me she thinks the ring and question are coming soon, but nothing yet. Regardless, Sasha has already made the wedding plans and Cali’s her maid-of-honor and shit. She’ll be the one wearing a frilly dress and a dozen tattoos to accessorize. It’ll be a hoot.

  “I’ll wait here, guys,” Jags says.

  “We’ll just be a few,” I tell him.

  Cali unloads Tyler, who’s fallen asleep on the way, and grabs her bag from the back seat. The front door swings open before we get there and Sasha comes bouncing out with her blonde ponytail flying in the wind. She’s squealing so loud, Tyler wakes up. “My girls!” she continues yelling. She snatches Tyler out of Cali’s arms and pops her over her hip. “How’s my little ladybug doing?” Cali leans over and gives Tyler a kiss on the cheek and whispers something in her ear. Tyler closes her eyes and nods her head in response.

  “I’m good,” Tyler groans to Sasha. “I’m going to stay with you so Mommy and Daddy can go fight the bad guys.”

  As she says it, Landon appears in the door. He throws his hand up, giving us a quick wave. An annoyance stirs in his eyes, though, and it pisses me off. We don’t ask them for help—this is a one-off situation. Landon and I don’t talk too much. I mean, I tried at the beginning, seeing as Sasha is Cali’s best friend and all, but Landon is this pretty-boy, popped-collar booger and we just have different views on life. I’m pretty sure he was bred to be a politician. I secretly think he doesn’t like me for reasons he’d never admit to, but we’ll leave it at that. We’re civil, but that’s where that ends. The girls have tried to get us closer over the past few years, and we sometimes put on a facade to make it so they don’t have to feel like they’re babysitting us, but I know our feelings toward each other are mutual. We’re never going to be “besties” like the girls are. Nevertheless, he’s a good man to Sasha and he’s good with Tyler. So it is what it is, and I’ll put up with him when I have to.

  “What is she talking about?” Sasha drawls. “Your mommy and daddy are just going away for a night or two, silly girl.” I watch Sasha’s gaze focus on the car, the car that isn’t our car, and the fact that there’s someone in the car that she doesn’t recognize. Without another word, she walks over to Landon and hands Tyler over to him. “Why don’t you take her inside and get her a big o
le’ tub of ice cream,” Sasha tells Landon, giving Tyler a kiss on the nose.

  “I love you, baby girl,” I yell over to Tyler, trying my hardest not to think of the worst case right now.

  “Love you, Daddy,” is the last thing I hear from her before the door closes.

  “What in the world is going on?” Sasha asks, walking back over to us with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You two aren’t in any sort of trouble or nothing are you? Because that ain’t your car and I’ve never seen that man before. And I know for a fact that Tango has no friends. So who is he?”

  Cali fingers the bracelet around her wrist, avoiding Sasha’s stare. “I can’t,” Cali says softly. “Can you just please take care of Tyler for me?”

  “You know I will, Cali-girl, but—” Sasha sniffles as tears threaten her reddening eyes. “You have to come back. You can’t do that to her.” Doesn’t she know we know this? I don’t think our love for Tyler has gone unnoticed.

  “We,” Cali grits her teeth. “We’ll be back for her.” Throwing her arms around Cali’s neck, Sasha’s threatened tears make their way down her nose, glimmering under the front porch light. “That little girl is everything to me and I’m keeping her safe. That’s all this is about.”

  Sasha leans back to look Cali in the eyes. “Then go do what you need to do. She’s in good hands here. You know I’d never let anything happen to her,” she says.

  “That’s why we’re here,” I chime in.

  “Me too,” Jags yells out of the driver’s side window.

  “Who’s that?” Sasha asks, crinkling her nose. “Has he ever heard of a razor?”

  I laugh at that. “Thank you,” I tell her, putting an end to her questions.

  Sasha grabs Cali by the collar of her shirt, looking her in the eyes once more. “You be careful, you hear?”

  Cali doesn’t say anything in response. She just turns away to get back into the car.

  “Take care of my girl,” Sasha yells over to me.

  “Always have. Always will,” I tell her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  CALI

  “WHERE ARE WE GOING NOW?” I ask Tango. My heart is aching, replaying the look on Tyler’s face as the door closed between us. She knows and she’s probably scared; and I’m fucking scared as hell.

  “I dunno. I guess we could go back to the coffee shop where they found me yesterday?” Tango says, questioning me. I thought he had this all planned out. I thought that’s why he called Jags, and now he’s asking me. He knows I don’t come up with the plans. That’s not my strength.

  “That’s your idea?” I ask him.

  “For now, yeah,” he says from the back seat.

  I look over at Jags, who’s chuckling. What the hell is so funny? Is this why Tango insisted on me sitting up in front? So Jags could poke fun at my weaknesses?

  “I need a coffee right now anyway,” Tango says.

  “To the coffee shop we go, Jeeves. Just tell me how to get there.” These two fucking clowns are going to push me over the goddamn edge tonight. There’s no way in hell I’m sitting in a coffee shop until some asshole comes to find us.

  “Are you seriously mad right now?” Tango asks. “How else am I supposed to find these guys? I don’t have their names. I can’t exactly track them down, so the only thing we can do is hang out in public and provoke them to come out from wherever the hell they’re hiding.”

  This is ridiculous. I throw my head back and close my eyes for the half hour it takes to get to this stupid coffee shop, which may or may not be open so late at night. I didn’t ask which place he was at yesterday, but most of them are morning and afternoon only shops.

  Tango and Jags have spent most of the car ride catching up on lost time. I now know that Jags lives at a strip club and is, in fact, single…during the afternoon hours. Just what I want to focus on right now. Since they think I’m sleeping, Jags indulges in the ultimate question to Tango: “What crawled up her butt? She always so cold?” Part of me would like to reach over and punch him in the shoulder, but I’ve been pretending to be asleep and who knows what other sweet commentary I’ll miss out on.

  “Nah, she’s pretty upset right now and she’s a very protective momma bear. Plus, I think she’s PMSing.” My eyelids whip open and I turn around slowly to look at him in the back seat. “That’s what I thought. I knew you weren’t sleeping.”

  I reach back and slap him on the knee. “Ass. Both of you are asses.”

  “Honey, in all seriousness, we’re going to take care of that little girl of yours. You don’t have anything to worry about,” Jags says, putting his hand over my shoulder. “I’m here to help. Tango has always been like a brother to me, even when he was dead. And now that I know he’s not dead, I’ll fight to keep you all alive because I can’t go and lose him twice.” Unable to say much in response, a sense of comfort fills me, but like any form of comfort, I know it will only be temporary.

  After we switched Jags’s car for Tango’s evidently traceable truck, we pull into this coffee shop that looks more like a diner, and I see the flashing “Open 24/7” sign. In my mirror, I see Tango fumbling around in his backpack, probably fussing with whatever weapon he brought to protect us and fight with. He passes me a bag. “Put this over your shoulders. It has your necessities.” I’m too tired at this point to question him. Jags steps out of the car and moves around to the trunk, where he’s fumbling with something as well…I’m assuming his bag of goodies. I should be able to wrap my head around this, but I think I’m too pissed off to fully comprehend the stupidity of this situation.

  “Ready?” Jags asks from outside. I step out with my backpack and follow the guys into the coffee shop. Everything is cool and the place is empty, which helps me relax for a minute. While it’s nice to know that no one is in here waiting for us or sneaking up behind us, it also makes me more anxious, wondering when these assholes are going to pop up next, like the monsters you’d find in a haunted house. My nerves are definitely on high alert.

  When we all take a seat at a booth, I almost want to laugh, knowing what we look like, all wearing backpacks, prepared to attack. And now we’re ordering coffee as if that’s the only reason we’re really here.

  The waitress is pleasant, an older lady with blueish, gray hair, wearing contrasting purple lipstick. Her apron matches the one Alice wore on The Brady Bunch. I wonder if she’s wondering why the three of us with backpacks are in here so late at night ordering coffee. This place isn’t exactly off the highway, so it’s not like we were on some road trip and pulled off for a pick-me-up. We’re at least thirty miles from the nearest interstate. Maybe she sees crazy fucks in here every night.

  “You kids on the run?” she asks as if it were a completely normal thing.

  “No Ma’am, just had a long day, and it isn’t over yet. Need some caffeine,” Tango says.

  “You look familiar,” she says. “Have you been in here recently?” Crap. I only know a little bit about what happened yesterday, but Tango insinuated that he made quite a scene. She’s probably going to kick us out now.

  “No, Ma’am, can’t say that I have.” She eyeballs him warily before filling his cup with the coffee.

  “Mmm-hmm. Don’t go starting no brawls in here tonight, son,” she says, filling my cup and then Jags’s.

  Jags and I both give Tango a look, but he doesn’t see us. He’s avoiding our questioning glares.

  Silence ensues between the three of us; our focus is on the door, waiting for the unexpected. I don’t know why Tango thinks waiting here is going to do anything, but I have a feeling this is pointless.

  “So,” Jags interrupts the silence. “How did you crazy lovebirds meet? Was it before or after Tango died?” He looks back and forth between the two of us.

  “After,” I respond curtly.

  “So y’all just been hiding out for the past four years? How do you have a license and shit, man?” It seems like all of this info has taken a bit to catch up to Jags. Surviving as a perso
n who has been declared dead isn’t as easy as it sounds. We’ve had to cover our bases and avoid a trail of truth. Tango would be put away for God knows how long if anyone found out.

  “I’m careful,” is all Tango responds with. He stands up from the table and drops his hands into his pocket as he walks over to the glass window, looking out into the dark lot. He nods his head and leans back to stretch. “They’re not coming.”

  “They would have been in here by now,” I finish his thought.

  I watch Tango ponder our options, wanting to help, but I have no clue what else we can do. I don’t know these people like he does. “What do we do?”

  He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, glances at it quickly and drops it back inside. “I’m waiting to hear back from your dad.”

  “Why? “

  “Yeah, he said he’d track the information on the guy who was here yesterday. I got his plate number.” I still hate the fact that he’s pulled Dad into this. Between Jags and Dad, I’m pretty sure we’re screwed.

  I’m feeling sick, so I excuse myself and shove through the bathroom door. Gripping the edge of the sink, I stare into the mirror, looking at myself for an answer I desperately need. If they were following him yesterday, why aren’t they following him today?

  Tango busts through the door with a heavy look in his eyes. “He’s not following me today. These people have a different plan,” he says as if we were thinking the same thing at the same moment. “Call Sasha and make sure everything is okay.”

  My hand trembles as I reach into my pocket. Regret over leaving Tyler anywhere but by my side is sinking in. I place the phone up to my ear, waiting three rings before Sasha picks up, laughing at the same time. “You have the funniest little girl I’ve ever met,” she croons. “She’s tucked into bed and snoozing away.”