Tackle (K19 Security Solutions)

by Heather Slade

“Cut the innocent act. You knew I was coming here to see you, at your demand, I might add.”

  “No one told me you were coming to California, so I was on my way to you.”

  “In Chicago?”

  “I had a layover. That’s when I got Ranger’s message that you were there.”

  I didn’t believe a word she was saying, and I was getting angrier by the minute. “What’s it gonna be? Are you getting on a plane and flying back to California, or should I tell Doc and the other guys that you’ve decided to wing this on your own?”

  “Calm down, Landry. I’ll catch the next flight out I can get.”

  I ended the call and immediately called Sloane. Not only did I want to hear her voice, I had to warn her that Nick and I had crossed paths in the sky and I’d probably be here another day at least. I left a message when the call went straight to voicemail.

  If you see Sloane, tell her I’m trying to reach her, read the text I sent to Cowboy three hours later.

  Roger that, he responded.

  When I still hadn’t been able to reach her an hour later, I called him. “Have you talked to Sloane?”

  “No.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Out with her mom and dad.”

  “Her mom and dad? Where?”

  “They didn’t tell me where they were going.”

  “She was supposed to be shopping with her mom.”

  “She was. When they got back, they left again, this time with her dad.”

  “When’s the last time you saw them?”

  “A couple of hours ago.”

  “You’re supposed to be on her detail, Cowboy.”

  “What the hell, Tackle? Her dad told me to take the rest of the day off and get back to the job site. What was I supposed to do?”

  “You didn’t think to run that past me?”

  “I don’t work for you.”

  Since he was right, I didn’t bother calling back when he hung up on me.

  I spent the next hour trying to come up with a reason to call either of Sloane’s parents to tell her to turn her damn phone on. By then, Ranger was back with Nick, and she didn’t look the least bit contrite. He, though, looked ready to kill.

  “I don’t know why you’re so mad,” she said to him. “It was a simple misunderstanding.”

  “You knew Tackle was on his way here, and don’t try to play it off like you didn’t.”

  “I’m telling you, I didn’t.”

  When I saw the veins in his neck bulge, I stepped between them. “Why don’t you head out? I can take it from here.”

  Instead of immediately turning to leave, he looked at Nick.

  “It’s fine. Go.”

  He nodded and walked out.

  “What was that all about?” I asked her once the door closed behind him.

  “Nothing.”

  I got the feeling there was something up between her and Ranger but doubted either one would give me a straight answer about it.

  “Let’s talk,” I said, motioning to the living room.

  When she sat on the sofa, I took a seat in one of the chairs.

  “Nick, I’m going to say this one more time and then that’s it. I got you away from Caruso, even worked it so the asshole went to jail with the help of Doc and the other guys. But now, I’m done. You’re safe, and I have my own life to lead.”

  “I should never have agreed to come to California. I hate it here.” She studied her fingernails and then looked back up at me. “I’m bored out of my mind. I want to go home.”

  “You’re the one who told me your husband had ‘connections,’ Nick. Have you forgotten that?”

  “He’s in jail, Tackle. He can’t hurt me from there.”

  “You don’t think any one of those connections would be capable of carrying out his wishes while he’s on the inside?”

  She shrugged. “None of my friends are here, neither is my family.”

  “Make new friends.”

  “I’m not interested in new friends. I want to go back to Boston.”

  “If that’s what you really want to do, I can’t stop you. But I’ll warn you, if you do, you’ll be on your own. No coming to me for help. I’m not doing this again, Nick.”

  “I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Okay, we’ll fly back together tomorrow.”

  Nick smiled and clapped her hands. “Perfect.”

  “One of the guys will bring you to the airport. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Wait. Why do you have to leave?”

  “I have other matters to take care of while I’m here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The smile left her face, and she didn’t clap again. I really didn’t give a shit. I’d talk to Doc, let him know she was leaving against my advice, and that would be that.

  29

  Sloane

  “What about your place in Newton?” my mom asked when I told her and my dad that I wanted to move into Boston.

  “The commute is getting harder on me. Besides, it’s month to month.”

  My father hadn’t said much, which was never a good sign. What he did say, confirmed my dread.

  “It’s time you told us the real reason, Sloane.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You aren’t going to like this, and after I tell you, remember that I am an adult capable of making my own decisions.”

  My mother looked between my father and me. “You’re worrying me, mija.”

  “Tackle is the baby’s father.”

  My mother’s face turned so pale I thought she might pass out. “Oh Dios mío,” she muttered, crossing herself. I wanted to ask her the last time she went to church, but that wasn’t what this conversation was about.

  I met my father’s eyes and saw no surprise in them, although he was trained not to react. Maybe what I said next would tip him over the edge. “I have reason to believe I’m not the only woman pregnant with his child.”

  “No!” gasped my mother.

  My dad nodded, but otherwise, had no visible reaction other than to brush his lips with his finger.

  “Why do you think this, Sloane?” my mother asked.

  “Because the other woman showed up at my house.”

  “You’re certain that this woman’s child is his?”

  “Certain? No, but I have reason to believe she wasn’t lying.”

  “Have you asked him, mija?”

  I looked at my father, wishing he would jump in on this conversation, but evidently, he’d gone mute.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked him.

  “I’m not certain yet.” He cleared his throat. “Does your brother know?”

  I shook my head, and my eyes filled with tears. My mother reached over and pulled me into an embrace. “It will be okay, Sloane. Shh, everything will be okay.”

  “I can’t talk to Tackle,” I said through my tears.

  “You don’t have to, mija,” she said, stroking my hair.

  “What do you want to do?” my father asked.

  “I want to stay in the city for a few days until I figure things out.”

  He raised a brow.

  “I’m not running away. I just need time to think.”

  “Where’s Tackle now?”

  “That’s the thing, Dad. He’s on the other side of the country, with her.”

  He nodded. “A few days to think things through, peanut. If this baby is his, you can’t avoid him forever.”

  “There’s more you should know.”

  “Go ahead.”

  I told both my parents about the house Tackle and his father had bought in Chestnut Hill and about how he was renovating it for us to live in. I also told them about how, as soon as he learned I was pregnant, he’d immediately wanted to get married. My mother’s eyes perked up.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, Mom. I’m not marrying him. Not that he asked. He just told me we’d get married.”

  My dad smiled. “Sounds like him.”

  “Don’t you go
soft on him. Evidently, he decided after almost dying in a plane crash to impregnate women all over the country.”

  “Like your mother said, everything will be okay, peanut.”

  “Oh, and his mother knows.”

  My mother’s eyes opened wide. “What?”

  “He told her without asking me first.”

  With my assurance that I wouldn’t avoid Tackle indefinitely, my father got me a furnished apartment in the North End.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us?” my mother asked.

  “No, Mom. I need to be where he can’t force me to talk to him until I’m ready.”

  “Ben, do you think this is a good idea?”

  My father put his arm around my mother’s shoulders. “Yes, sweetheart, or I wouldn’t have made arrangements for the apartment.”

  The way he looked at her tore at my heart. Even when they were arguing, the love he had for her was so obvious. For the last couple of weeks, I’d let myself believe that maybe one day, Tackle would feel that way about me. How could I have been so stupid?

  30

  Tackle

  By the time the flight landed, I was filled with dread. Cowboy assured me he’d confirmed Sloane spent the afternoon and evening with her parents. However, when they returned home, she wasn’t with them. He’d checked the duplex in Newton and the house in Chestnut Hill, and she wasn’t at either.

  Finally, I gave him the address of Sloane’s friend’s apartment and asked him to check there. Her friend was home but insisted she hadn’t seen Sloane since before Thanksgiving.

  I knew she’d be furious with me if I went to either Halo or her parents, but I was reaching the point where I had to. Given her mom and dad were the last to see her, according to Cowboy, I decided to pay them a visit rather than call Knox.

  “I wish you all the best,” I said to Nick when we got off the plane.

  “What do you mean? You’re not just leaving me here?”

  “You have all your friends and family that you’re so anxious to get back to. You should’ve planned for someone to pick you up.”

  “I just assumed you’d make sure I got home okay.”

  I took Nick by the arm and led her off to the side of the terminal area. “I told you before we left California that if you made this decision, you’d be on your own. I meant it. I did everything I could to get you out of an abusive situation and relocated to a place your ex-husband couldn’t find you. You decided that wasn’t good enough, so I’m done.”

  “But—”

  “No, Nick. I’m done.” I stalked away without looking back and hopped on the shuttle that would take me to the private lot where I’d left my car. I tried Sloane’s number again from the shuttle and before I got on the road. Both times, it went straight to voicemail.

  Something had happened to make her ghost me, and I had no idea what it could be. Before I left for California, I thought she understood why I had to go. She’d spent the night with me, we had the same amazing sex we always did, and the next morning, she gave me a kiss goodbye that promised more to come when I got back.

  Why wouldn’t she have just been honest with me if she was that angry about me going? She had every opportunity to either tell or show me how she really felt.

  I shook my head. That couldn’t be it. Something else had to have happened. I called my mom.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” she said, answering my call.

  “I have to ask you a question.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “You didn’t tell Sloane’s parents I’m her baby’s father, did you?”

  “Of course I didn’t. You know I wouldn’t do that, which means you have a good reason for asking.”

  “I went on a quick work trip. When I left, I thought everything was okay between us, but I haven’t been able to reach her since that morning.”

  “Landry, you don’t think something’s happened to her, do you?”

  “No, I mean, someone I know saw her yesterday, and she was fine.”

  “Where did this person see her?”

  “She was with Ben and Carolina.”

  “I see. And you can’t very well ask them, can you?”

  “I don’t think I have any choice.”

  “I will do this once, Landry, but only once.”

  “Do what?”

  “I’ll pay them a visit and see if I can find anything out.”

  “Mom, don’t—”

  “I will not tell them a thing. I’ll just casually ask after her. I have to talk to Carolina about the plans for Knox’s engagement party anyway.”

  “Are you going?”

  “Of course we are. We wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Your father and me? Remember him?”

  “I can’t believe Dad agreed to go.”

  “It’s in New York City, Landry. We’re making a week of it.”

  “Are Sloane’s parents too?”

  “I don’t know, darling, but it’s the excuse I’m using to pay them a visit.”

  Not knowing what else to do with myself, I drove to the Chestnut Hill house. Maybe I’d find some clue as to what was going on with Sloane.

  I’d been sitting on the porch, staring off at nothing for at least a half hour when my phone rang.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “They know you’re the father, Landry. Evidently, Sloane told them. They don’t seem upset about it, but they didn’t see the need to keep up any pretenses.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “They didn’t say otherwise.”

  “Did you ask?”

  “No, I completely forgot. Of course I asked, Landry.”

  “Okay, sorry.”

  “One thing happened that seemed odd.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Carolina walked me to the door and said it’s time we all went out for Italian again. And then she suggested we make a night of it and go back to Dominici in the North End.”

  “Why is that odd?”

  “Two things, unless I’m losing my memory, we’ve never eaten at Dominici either with the Clarksons or alone.”

  “What’s the other thing?”

  “Carolina was whispering when she said it. She even looked over her shoulder once as though she was checking to see if Ben could hear her.”

  When I was still wide awake at four in the morning, I figured I might as well drive to Little Italy.

  31

  Sloane

  When I opened my eyes, I knew I was on the floor. Otherwise, nothing looked familiar to me. Something was wrong, really wrong. I had to get to my phone, but I couldn’t remember where I’d left it.

  I tried to raise my head, but God, it hurt. My head was throbbing—pounding—so hard it was impossible to think.

  Cramps. It wasn’t just my head; my stomach hurt as well. The cramping was so bad that I tried to wrap my arms around my midsection, but they felt so heavy.

  I inched one hand down and felt something damp. What was that? I looked. Blood. The baby.

  Oh my God, the baby.

  “Help!” I tried to shout, knowing there was no one close enough to hear me.

  32

  Tackle

  I’d been walking for almost two hours with absolutely no idea of what I hoped to find. I concentrated my efforts on the block where the Dominici restaurant was located, but traipsed around neighboring streets too.

  One by one, coffee shops and bakeries were rolling up their steel gates, turning on lights, and dragging tables and chairs out to the sidewalk. I checked my phone. It was almost six: the time most of them officially opened.

  Even if the bizarre conversation my mother had had with Carolina meant that Sloane was staying somewhere near Dominici, I had no idea how I’d be able to find her.

  I stared up at the buildings surrounding me. Each one was filled with either office suites or luxury apartments above the street-level shops. Each might have as many as a hundred living spaces, particularly the ones with th
irty stories or more.

  “Sloane, where the hell are you?” I muttered out loud, scanning the high-rises as if she’d come out on the balcony of one and I’d spot her.

  “You’re too early if you’re looking for Sloane,” said a kid sweeping the sidewalk in front of a coffeehouse.

  “You know somebody by that name?”

  “Really pretty, stomach out to here?” The kid, who couldn’t be more than ten or eleven, held his hand out in front of him.

  Rather than respond, I took the photo I’d brought with me out of my pocket. “This her?” I asked, handing it to him.

  “Yep. That’s Sloane.”

  “Have you seen her?”

  “I did the last two days.”

  “Where?”

  “Here,” the kid said, laughing as he swept dirt onto the street. “Comes down for breakfast, but not until later.”

  “What time?”

  He shrugged. “Not before nine or ten, after the morning rush is over.”

  “You said she comes downstairs. Does she live in this building?”

  “Anthony!” a man yelled.

  “I gotta go. See ya, mister.”

  “Hey, wait!” I was too late. The kid was inside with the door closed behind him.

  I waited another twenty minutes and went into the shop.

  “Buongiorno,” said an older woman, who didn’t look quite tall enough to see over the counter. “What can I get you this morning?”

  “Un caffè, per favore.”

  The woman smiled. “Parla italiano?”

  “Enough to order coffee.”

  “What else? Sfogliatelle maybe?”

  “Too rich for me this morning. How about a brioche?”

  She put my pastry in a bag and turned to make my caffè.

  “There was a young boy sweeping the sidewalk earlier, Anthony?”

  “Sì, my grandson.”

  “Is he here?”

  “He’s at school now.”

  “He mentioned a woman, Sloane. He said she came here for breakfast the last couple of days.”