Chapter Seven
When Atticus and Archer were finally on the road just before noon, with a little less than two hundred miles in front of them, Atticus was able to relax a bit.
From the time he got to HQ after leaving Slade’s that morning, he’d been waiting for the man to show up and start in on him again.
As it was, he’d had to turn his phone on vibrate a few minutes ago because the text messages had started.
From both Slade and Carson. If Atticus had to guess, Slade had told Carson that Atticus was cheating, and now Carson wanted to know what was going on.
They would have to wait.
“Do you know Brantley’s cousin?”
Archer’s question pulled Atticus out of his thoughts, his focus returning where it was needed.
“Travis?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t. You?”
“Only met him once before. Simon’s talked to him a couple of times, I think. I can’t quite figure him out.”
Atticus kept his eyes on the road. “I’m sure this has to be hard on him. I mean, what would you do if someone told you someone you thought was dead might be alive? Someone you loved, at that.”
“As much as I’d like to say I wouldn’t get my hopes up… I’m not sure it’s even possible.”
Atticus understood that to a degree. “I’m not an expert on losin’ people. Or loving someone, for that matter. The closest I’ve got to family is the task force and well…” He let the sentence trail off.
“That’s one thing I like about the team,” Archer said, relaxed in the passenger seat, his big arm draped on the center console, other elbow propped on the door. “Y’all are a close-knit group.”
“I haven’t been a part of it long,” he admitted. “Came on board in May, so not even six months.”
“You wouldn’t know it.”
Atticus tried to see things from Archer’s perspective.
From the outside, yeah, he could see that the task force appeared to be close.
When it came to work, they definitely were.
Regarding their personal lives, some of the team kept to themselves, while others were more interactive.
No matter what, they had each other’s backs.
And sure, Atticus was part of that. They’d been far more welcoming to him than he had expected, so he couldn’t complain.
They drove in silence for a few miles; the only sound was the random buzz of an incoming text on his cell phone.
He was going to have to turn it off if Slade kept this up.
Neither of them acknowledged that stupid buzz, but it was growing more annoying by the minute.
Then, for some unforeseen reason, Atticus felt compelled to warn Archer.
“Slade doesn’t want me partnering up with you.”
Atticus kept his eyes on the road, unable to so much as glance Archer’s way. He could only imagine how immature that sounded, and he hated that the words had tumbled right out of his mouth.
“What about you?” Archer prompted.
“What about me?”
“Would you prefer to change it up?”
“No,” he blurted a little too quickly. Taking a deep breath, he said, “No. I’m lookin’ forward to workin’ with you.”
“Likewise.”
“It’s just…”
Archer chuckled when Atticus trailed off. “It’s okay. Spill. We’ve got a pact. As partners. You get to blow your verbal vomit all over the table, and I do, too, remember?”
Atticus snorted. Oh, yeah. He definitely remembered the conversation they’d had the night before. He’d found himself apologizing profusely after rambling incessantly about his fucked-up relationship with Carson and Slade.
“Shit. I really am sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. If we’re partners, we’ll pick on things in each other’s lives. It’s natural.”
“Yeah?”
Archer nodded.
“Okay then. What about you? In a relationship?”
“Can’t say that I am.”
“Well, when you are, I’ll listen if you pop your cork and spew all your shit all over the table.”
“That’s a deal.”
Shaking off the memory, he huffed. “Yeah, but I can’t seem to control it.”
“Go on, spit it out. You’ll feel better.”
“I’m usually bein’ told to swallow,” Atticus muttered under his breath.
Archer’s head turned so fast Atticus was surprised it didn’t come flying off his shoulders. That was when he realized what he’d said. And that he’d said it out loud.
“I am—” Atticus cut off his apology when he saw what looked like heat flashing in Archer’s turquoise blue eyes.
Jerking his attention back to the road, Atticus opted to forgo the apology and any talk of personal shit.
“So… how do you think it’ll go talkin’ to a mob boss?”
Baz stood at the nursery window and watched as his two babies slept soundly.
Visiting hours were over for the moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.
It was getting more challenging with each passing day.
Didn’t matter that they were staying in a hotel only a short walk from the hospital; it felt like it was a million miles away.
“Hey,” a familiar voice sounded from behind him.
Baz turned and saw Dr. Justin Tinder, JJ’s OB/Gyn, walking toward him.
“I was just coming to get an update on the little ones. How’re they doin’?”
Turning his attention back to the babies, Baz smiled. “Good. They may get to go home earlier than expected.”
“That’s fantastic news.”
Yes, it was. Not soon enough, but then again, despite how anxious he was to get them home, Baz didn’t want to rush them.
Dr. Tinder joined him at the window. “Look at all that hair.”
“My dad would tell you it’s strong Buchanan genes,” Baz joked. “But everything good in those babies is from JJ.”
“Something tells me JJ would disagree with you there. According to her, you’re quite the catch.”
He couldn’t stop the smile.
“Did they say when they’d get to go home?”
“The doctor said he’d reassess them on Monday afternoon and have a more definitive answer by then.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” Dr. Tinder glanced both ways down the hall. “Is JJ around?”
“She’s in the gift shop. They’ve got these pink and purple elephants she swears she can’t live without.”
“Sounds like her. Well, hey. I’ve got rounds, but if you or JJ need anything, give me a call.”
“Will do.” He offered a smile. “Oh, and my father’s still insistent that you come to dinner sometime. He likes having company.”
“Funny. I like having food, so I think it’s doable. Tell me a time and a place and I’m there.”
Dr. Tinder patted him once on the shoulder, then strolled off down the long hallway. Baz continued to watch his sleeping babies. It was weird how content he felt considering his newborns were in the hospital, yet for some reason, he did.
“You might give ’em a complex if you watch ’em too much.”
The sound of JJ’s voice lightened him even more. She had that way about her. Everything she did made him feel like a better man, a better human.
“Dr. Tinder was just here.”
She smiled, waved behind her. “I passed him. He mentioned dinner with your folks. Wes is insistent about that, huh?”
“Oh, he definitely is.”
When she moved closer, he put his arm over her shoulder and pulled her into his side. He kissed the top of her head.
“I thought maybe we’d work in the cafeteria if that’s okay with you,” she told him as they both admired the little miracles they’d created.
“I’d like to look into the doctor who signed Kylie’s death certificate.
Since she was pronounced in this hospital, there’s a good chance he’s around here somewhere. ”
Baz peered down at her. “Provided you don’t intend to confront him.”
She plastered on a winning smile. “Why shouldn’t I?”
That was a damn good question. One he couldn’t answer.
Or rather, one he knew he shouldn’t answer.
The fastest way to get on JJ’s bad side was to stand between her and a goal.
The woman was as independent as they came, and since that was one of many things he loved about her, it would make him an idiot to try to stifle that.
“Fine,” he said, dropping his arm and taking her hand. “But if you talk to him, I go with you.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
JJ peered through the window. “Sleep tight, peanuts. We’ll be back soon.”
They most certainly would.
“Mind if we give Tesha a break?” Reese prompted from the passenger seat.
Brantley grinned. He’d been waiting for it ever since they saw the sign for Hillsboro. In fact, he was surprised Reese had waited this long.
“You timed that perfectly, didn’t you?”
“Timed it? For what?” Reese’s words were thick with innocence.
“Buc-ee’s.”
“Are we near one?”
Brantley glanced over, cocked an eyebrow.
He knew Reese was well aware of the location of every Buc-ee’s in the state.
The man was oddly obsessed with them. Not that Brantley would turn his nose up at one.
They were just shy of being a superstore rather than a convenience store.
Plus, it was rarely difficult to find an available gas pump.
Since they were currently driving on I-35, coming into Hillsboro, the next location wasn’t too far ahead. And Reese’s well-timed request gave Brantley plenty of time to exit.
Very thoughtful of him.
He sensed Reese’s smile as he worked his way to the right lane to exit. When they pulled in a few minutes later, Tesha’s head popped up, and her tongue lolled out of her mouth. She panted with excitement as she always did when they stopped during long trips.
“I’ll drop you off in the grass, then fill the tank. When I’m done, I’ll meet you inside.”
Brantley pulled alongside a large grassy area that was a decent pet stop if he did say so himself.
Plenty of gas stations had none, which was stupid if you asked him.
A dog was no longer an animal people kept in their backyard and only spent time with when they remembered they had one.
Dogs were now in charge of the humans, he was pretty sure.
Theirs was. So, yeah, if Buc-ee’s was looking to make any sort of improvement, they could add dog parks to their locations. Then they’d be just about perfect.
It took no time at all to fill the truck. Once he did, he pulled up to the front, parked. As he was getting out, his phone rang.
Travis.
His gut twisted. A familiar response anytime he dealt with Travis. Part guilt, part anxiety. He never knew what mood Travis would be in—only that it wouldn’t quite be a good one.
“Yeah. What’s up?” he answered, grinding his teeth.
“Gage is sending you the reservations now. We’re about an hour out. I’ll let you know when we get there.”
Straight to the point. Shouldn’t surprise him in the least.
“We’re probably half an hour behind you,” Brantley told his cousin. “But Atticus and Archer are ahead of you.”
“Perfect. And Simon?”
“He was gonna ride with us, but decided to fly up there in case he needed to head back tonight. Harold’s MIA.”
“Harold’s always MIA,” Travis said, sounding bored.
True.
“We’ll see you when we see you,” Travis said before disconnecting.
Brantley glanced at the phone screen, shaking his head. And people said he lacked social skills.
A few seconds later, his phone chimed, signaling an incoming text. He checked the screen, confirmed it was from Gage, then shot the message off to Atticus, Archer, and Simon so they would have the details for check-in.
He found Reese and Tesha along the back wall where the drinks were kept in large refrigerators.
“Water or Ghost?” Reese asked as he approached.
Hmm. Good question. Water was probably the better choice, but an energy drink would help more.
“Both,” he answered easily. He needed the caffeine if he was expected to deal with Travis and engage with Max Adorite later. They were both on his shit list, but for different reasons.
Reese grabbed several bottles and cans, passing them off to Brantley.
“Did you get—”
“Brisket sandwich and fudge,” Reese filled in.
“Did I mention how much I love you?”
“Not today, you haven’t.”
“I could serenade you right here in the middle of the store if you’d like.”
Reese’s cheeks turned pink as he muttered, “Don’t you dare.”
Brantley grinned.
Fifteen minutes later, after Brantley had downed his sandwich and Tesha got water and another bathroom break, they were back on the road. Tesha was asleep in her seat, curled up with a blanket that Reese had bought her specifically for road trips.
“JJ messaged a little while ago,” Reese said, positioning things in the cupholders to his liking.
“And?”
“They don’t have anything yet, but she’s lookin’ into the doctor.”
Good. Brantley wanted to know every fucking thing there was to know about that man.
If there were even a smidge of proof that Kylie was alive, he would be a damn fine starting point.
Since he signed off on her death certificate, he would be the first one to know whether she’d been breathing when he put pen to paper.
And if she was, God help him as soon as Travis or Gage found out.