Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The mood in my truck on the way back to my place was quiet.
Quiet and somber.
As it naturally would be after spending hours at the scene of a fire.
It was late, we smelled of smoke, and we were filthy. Me more than Liza. After the fire was put out and the state fire marshal did her walk-through, Logan, Luke, Trey, and I followed Matt around what was left of the barn so he could take video and pictures. Of course, the insurance company would come out and take their own but Matt wanted to do his own documentation. Chelsea also wanted a few items out of the tack room. The structure was a total loss. The barn roof was gone, one side completely demolished. The other three walls were extremely damaged but still standing—a testament to the strength of old sawmill posts. Luckily the tack room was located in the front corner of the barn and was still intact though heavily water damaged.
I needed a shower and sleep. I figured Liza did, too, but her silence wasn’t about the fire, at least it wasn’t the only reason for it.
“What’s on your mind?” I inquired.
“Chelsea and Matt.”
“This is going to be a pain in the ass for them, but you heard her, she’s okay. And if Chels is okay, Matt’s okay. She wasn’t blowin’ sunshine when she told you it was just a barn to her. The neighbor came over, dropped off some bales, her babies are fed and safe in the paddock. Truly, that’s all she cares about.”
“A fan,” she mumbled.
She was talking about the source of the fire. The fire marshal had easily found the cause, a fan Chelsea had going to move air around the hot barn. A fan that was in good working order because it was virtually new, it was the outlet that was the problem. With the pine shavings used in the stalls and the straw bales, a spark was all it had taken. Had Chelsea not been doing laundry and saw the smoke from the window it could’ve been worse. She might not have been able to save the horses. Thankfully, she had the presence of mind to hit the alarm before she ran out of the house.
“A fan,” I unnecessarily confirmed.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone use so many curse words at one time.”
I could hear the humor in Liza’s tone. Chelsea certainly had gotten creative with her words after the fire marshal and firefighters had left.
“I think it’s a safe bet to say she’s not fond of insurance companies,” she went on. “They haven’t even come out to inspect the damage and she’s already gearing up for a showdown if they don’t pay out.”
“Matt will build her a new barn and fight the insurance company for reimbursement later.”
“He will?”
“He’s loaded. He could build her five brand-new barns, fill them with thoroughbreds, and not feel the hit to his portfolio. Chelsea would have a shit hemorrhage but he can certainly afford it.”
Liza fell silent again.
I drove.
She broke the silence by asking, “Will you tell me about Chelsea?”
There was something I didn’t like in her tone. Not accusatory, more melancholy with a hint of curiosity. It was the curiosity that strangely worried me. And it worried me because Liza was doing her damnedest to throw up roadblocks and I wouldn’t put it past her to try to use Chelsea as an excuse to push me away. Even though she was way off the mark.
“What about her?”
“She called you Tim. She said you protected her before Matt could save her.”
“Remember when I was working that racketeering case in New York?”
“The joint task force with the FBI?”
Yeah, she remembered. I couldn’t tell her about the cases while they were active, but when they were over, I always debriefed with her. She was my much-needed sounding board and helped me decompress. The only person who helped me.
“Matt’s father was connected to Zanetti. Matt’s sister was also connected.”
“Kessler,” she mumbled, putting two-and-two together. “The sister was involved, too, right?”
“Yep. After Matt’s father was arrested, Matt’s sister wanted his shares in Kessler Management. Matt didn’t feel like selling. Not because he wanted the money or controlling interest in the company—as far as he was concerned the money and business were tainted. He just didn’t want his grasping, greedy bitch of a sister to have it.”
“Chelsea. She was the woman who was kidnapped and during her rescue Zanetti was killed.”
Yeah, Liza remembered.
“Yeah, Chelsea was the woman,” I confirmed.
“Tucker,” she whispered and I knew why.
I might not have told Liza the woman’s name but I had told her I held guilt for how I’d treated Chelsea. She’d had nothing to do with Zanetti, totally innocent, yet she’d been held hostage and I’d been the one to guard her. And playing my part meant I hadn’t been nice about it. That was the shit side of undercover work. It wasn’t only the bad guys who had to believe you were one of them. It was the innocent people you had to convince, scare, and strongarm.
“We’ve talked it out, Lizzy. She gets why I was a dick to her and holds no ill will. Also talked to Matt, can’t say that was a great conversation, but when I started working for TC and he got to know me, that smoothed out. It helped I knew Jason and he trusted me. Phoenix also helped with that.”
“Small world,” she noted. “I forgot River’s friends with that guy in Idaho…”
“Asher Noble,” I supplied.
“Yeah, that’s his name.” She giggled.
“Glad you think it’s amusing I almost died in a tree farm freezing my ass off after twenty months of dealing with Lorenzo all went to shit.”
“Sorry.” She laughed harder.
“The woman threatened to shoot my balls off,” I reminded her.
“She…she…” Liza sputtered through her laughter. “Said she busted a nut.”
Damn. I’d forgotten that part.
“I believe her exact words were, she popped Will Evan’s balls and broke his dick off. The asshole deserved it, but I have to admit, it was painful to watch.”
Sloane Ellis was a seriously brave woman. What she’d done to get to the bottom of her friend’s disappearance was about as stupidly brave as Liza running into a burning barn.
Crazy stupid but no less brave.
“At least she didn’t bust your nuts. She thought you took her friend.”
There was that.
“All’s well that ends well.”
“You mean, all’s well when you’re not the one with a malfunctioning penis.”
“Yeah, baby, that’s what I meant.”
As I drove through the streets of Hollow Point I wondered if Liza realized how quickly and easily we’d slipped back into us. The familiarity of it. The ease of friendship that only comes from shared history. This was who we were. This was who we’d always been.
Quick to laugh.
Easy.
“Taco Bell okay?” I asked.
“Perfect.”
I pulled into the drive-thru and ordered our food. It wasn’t until I got to the next window that I felt the vibe had changed. I glanced over at Liza. She was tapping her fingertips against her lips. Something she only did when she was deep in thought. This was something I found cute. Now I found it alarming. Liza deep in thought could mean anything.
“What’re you thinking about?”
“You didn’t ask me what I wanted.”
That was not what I thought she was going to say.
“Two hard tacos, Meximelt, and meat and cheese burrito,” I repeated her normal order. “You never deviate, except when TB got rid of Meximelts, you added a second burrito and complained endlessly while you were eating it about the decline of society and the travesty future generations wouldn’t know the goodness of a Meximelt. But seeing as they’re back I figured you’d want one.”
Instead of speaking she nodded. She also jerked her head in the direction of the window. Sure enough, our food was ready.
It wasn’t until I was back on the road she softly said, “I was just thinking how well you know me.”
About fucking time she admitted it .
“While at the same time, you don’t,” she tacked on.
Christ .
I wasn’t having this conversation in the car. I’d found the best way to get her to stop spiraling was to kiss her. With that option not currently available to me I didn’t respond to her asinine comment.
That meant the rest of the drive home was done in utter silence.
Which was fine by me.
It was after our showers—taken separately, unfortunately—me using the master, Liza using the guest bathroom. Liza was sitting next to me with her damp hair piled on top of her head in one of those buns that were meant to look messy, but I was fairly certain there was an artform to making them look that way. She’d changed into sweats and an oversized t-shirt which would make me wonder if it was a tee she’d confiscated from a man—in which case I’d have to steal it and burn the thing—if it didn’t proudly display an ATF annual shootout logo on it. A shootout that I knew she’d placed second in years back. I didn’t know where she’d placed the last two years or if she’d even entered.
Sitting at the table, I shoved the thought aside and handed Liza her burrito. Another novel tidbit I knew about her, the order in which she ate her food.
“Allyson texted,” she told me.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to shout or laugh at her play. She knew I saw the text from Allyson confirming we were meeting at her sister’s house at nine tomorrow morning—it was a group text.
“We’re still driving the rental, right?”
“Yep.”
The rental would be changed out for another car registered in our names when we got to Tennessee.
“Dylan—”
“Lizzy, you know Dylan said he’d have the new backstory in place by tonight. If he said it’ll be done, it’s done.”
“Shouldn’t you double check?”
If it was anyone other than Dylan crafting our stories, I would’ve triple checked.
“You don’t double check Dylan.”
“Why not?”
“Honest to God, this is what you want to talk about?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “This is honest to God what I want to talk about. We’re going undercover tomorrow. I want to make sure we’re not made within the first twenty-four hours, screwing my case and putting our lives in jeopardy.”
She had a point, a good one. Unfortunately for her, I gave less than two fucks about her case right now. I’d had time to think about her bullshit comment after we got our food. And thinking on it, it pissed me off that after we’d slid back to us she was veering us off course again.
“What don’t I know about you?”
Liza’s head twitched like she’d been electrocuted.
“Now’s not?—”
“Now’s the perfect time,” I contradicted before she finished. “Before we leave in the morning and have to put on an award-winning show of a couple in love we actually need to talk about this. Talk about why when I told you I loved you your response was to tell me I couldn’t love you. And just to point out, it’s not your actual words that are the problem—though they’re questionable—it’s the anguish behind those words that has me more concerned.”
She was shaking her head before I was finished, and as soon as I had the last word out she was ready to jump right in… with more bullshit.
“Can you maybe imagine how I’d be shocked to hear you tell me you loved me?”
“Yeah. I can imagine because I was shocked to shit to find out you felt the same. Then I was pissed at myself for not coming clean years ago, which would’ve saved you from dating then marrying an asshole. Not to mention, pissed about the time we lost. You weren’t shocked, Liza, you straight out told me I couldn’t love you, like you didn’t think you were worthy of the emotion. Then you confirmed that’s how you felt when you asked me not to blame you when I found out I wasted my time on you, and figured out you’re not worth it. We already established, it wasn’t Boyer who made you feel worthless. So, tell me, Liza, who made you think you’re not worthy of my love?”
“I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I was…overwhelmed, tired, frustrated with life. Really I was just shocked. Maybe a little angry, too, at myself, at the universe, at everything.”
None of that sounded plausible.
And none of that sounded like the Liza I knew.
“Baby, you don’t get overwhelmed. You’re the strongest woman I know.”
“Am I?” she angrily challenged.
“Yeah, Liza. Strong through and through.”
“Well, I’m tired of being strong, Tucker. It’s fucking exhausting,” she said, tossing her still-wrapped burrito back on the table. “I’m tired of always having to protect myself because if I don’t, no one else will. I’m tired of pretending everything’s okay. I’m tired of making myself small so other people aren’t uncomfortable. I’m tired of not speaking my mind to keep the peace. I’m just plain fucking tired of everything.”
“Liza—”
Her head whipped to the side so fast I feared she’d hurt herself. Pain-filled eyes locked onto mine, as unknown devastation swimming behind her hazel orbs wreaked havoc in my chest. But it wasn’t until her whispered question did that chaos catch fire.
“What if I’m done? What if I just want to fall apart? What then? Would I still be worth it, or am I only good enough if I’m the strong, reliable Liza?”
Jesus fuck, who the hell had planted the seed of worthlessness, then nurtured it until it had taken root? And how had she hidden it from me for so long?
“Baby, you get to be whoever you need to be with me.”
Her torso swung back, she shook her head, and a hand came up to physically ward off my declaration.
“Can we not talk about this?” she rasped.
Every instinct I had was screaming at me to push, to barrel ahead and break down her defenses. A pissed-off Liza meant an unguarded Liza. But the turbulence in her eyes coupled with her labored breaths meant I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t push without causing her pain, and until I understood what was going on in her head I had no choice but to back off.
“Yeah, Lizzy, we can not talk about it,” I agreed. She visibly relaxed only to stiffen again when I continued. “But only if you promise you heard me.”
“Tucker—”
“Anything, Liza. You are free to be anything you need to be with me. You want to fall apart, do it. I’m here to catch you. You want to let go and rest, give it to me to carry. I got you. Whatever it is that’s fucking with your head and tearing you apart inside, hand it over, baby, and I promise you, swear it, I won’t let you down. I’ll stand strong for you, for us. You just gotta trust me, and from there I’ll handle the rest.”
She looked no less freaked out and no closer to believing me.
Yet she nodded.
I knew that was the best she was going to give me.
“Eat, Lizzy. You hate cold TB.”
I watched her lids slowly lower until her eyes were closed.
“I wish I was a different person,” she whispered.
“I don’t. You’re exactly who you’re supposed to be.”
On a swift inhale, her eyelids snapped open. Brighter now, tears rimming, too stubborn to give in or let them fall.
Come on, baby, just tell me what’s holding you back.
She reached for her burrito.
And closed down.