Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
“Tanner. Hey.” She was holding a huge cardboard box, looking bewildered. A curvy woman with bright red lipstick stood beside her. Both women wore medical scrubs, and Faith’s long hair was in a messy bun. Her face, which was usually so vibrant, seemed pale and withdrawn.
He and Noah had just finished a training session, sparring with some of the other guys. Tanner wished he’d cleaned up, but then he might’ve missed her.
“Need some help?” He took the box out of Faith’s hands.
“I was hoping to find Sylvie. I tried calling, but…”
Her anxiety was palpable. He wished he could put his arms around her and say something ridiculous to make her laugh.
Noah was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his tight T-shirt. “Sylvie’s on an assignment. Some crisis with a security system, and the client was important enough to get Max and Sylvie to make a house call.” He stepped forward, sticking out his hand. “I’m Noah, by the way. Faith, right?”
“We met when I was here before, with Sylvie.”
“How could I forget?” Noah flashed one of his oh-so-charming smiles, and Tanner fought the urge to roll his eyes.
“And I’m Myra,” the other woman said with a wave. “I work with Faith, obviously. With clothes like these, we’re either in the medical field, or a cult.”
“What can we do for you both?” Tanner asked.
“I got that package this afternoon.” Faith nodded at the box he was holding. “I hoped Sylvie could check it out. But I don’t want to bother you.”
Instantly, he went into threat assessment mode. He glanced down at the item in his hands. “You think it could pose a danger?”
“It’s not a bomb. It’s from my husband. Ex-husband.”
Tanner did not feel reassured. And he felt a lot confused.
“What’s the reason for your concern?” Noah was using his “in charge” voice. Normally, Tanner was perfectly happy for his friend to take command of a situation. But at the moment, the move grated on him.
There was a pause. When Faith responded, she was so quiet he could hardly hear her. “It could be drugs.”
Tanner took a step forward, leaning in to hear her better. “Could be? What’s your level of certainty?”
“Fifty-fifty.” She cleared her throat. “Jon moved to the area not long ago.”
“Your ex is in West Oaks?” He remembered what Faith had told him the night of their “date.” That she’d be safe so long as Jon didn’t show up here.
But apparently, he had.
“Jon asked me to hold onto some of his stuff. He claims it’s for some resale business. But he’s…um, he’s a heroin addict. And he’s been a dealer in the past.” Faith’s cheeks flushed red. A strand of hair escaped from her ponytail and onto her forehead, but she didn’t brush it away.
There was silence in their group. Tanner’s chest tightened with fury at her ex. And with empathy for her. She hadn’t wanted to confess this.
“Then let’s take a look,” Tanner said.
He and Noah led the way to a conference room. Tanner grabbed some supplies. He and Noah slipped on latex gloves.
The kit in his bag also included Narcan, the overdose treatment his buddy Sean had mentioned when they were volunteering at the rec center.
Sean hadn’t exaggerated. Pretty much any medic out in the field carried the stuff with them.
Every employee of Bennett Security did, too, in their standard-issue first aid kits.
Tanner used a knife to carefully cut the tape holding the cardboard box closed.
Noah stood beside him and pulled back the flaps, while Tanner moved forward to inspect the inside.
He felt a twinge of guilt at being annoyed at Noah before. He trusted this guy with his life. So what if Noah liked female attention? Even if the female in question was Faith.
Tanner did a visual scan of the contents. The box was filled with items wrapped in paper or bubble wrap. They brought out each item in turn, checking carefully for any signs of powder or pills.
But it was just a bunch of old-looking dishes and knickknacks. No matter how closely they examined everything, nothing suspicious appeared. The stuff didn’t even look expensive enough to be worth stealing.
“Guess it was a false alarm,” Noah said. “I have no doubt your ex has done shady things in the past, Faith, but at the moment he seems to be legit.”
Tanner removed his gloves.
Faith wiped a hand over her face. “I’m sorry. I just assumed.”
“No need to be sorry.” Noah gestured at the box. “Where did Jon say this stuff came from?”
“From Texas. He’s going to resell it here.” She walked over and looked at the various dishes, only half of which they’d repacked into the cardboard. “And he was telling the truth, for once.”
Tanner was about to reassure her, but Noah spoke first. “Given your ex’s history, I would’ve been worried, too.”
Faith’s eyes were on the tile floor. “Thank you again.”
Myra rested a hand on the table, cocking her hip. “So, you guys are bodyguards?”
“That we are.” Noah puffed out his chest. Tanner held back another eye roll.
“How in shape do you have to be? Scale from one to ten, with ten being the dudes who’re on the cover of romance novels?”
Tanner wasn’t going to touch that one.
While Noah did his best to answer with a straight face, Faith slipped through the doorway.
Tanner went to follow.
He found her leaning against the wall outside the bathrooms, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Oh, hey.” She sniffled. “Sorry. I’m not sure why I’m crying.”
He propped against the wall beside her. “Crying is a natural physiological response to stress. In other words, you gotta let that shit out.”
“More of Tanner’s words of wisdom?”
“That one’s a little long for a bumper sticker.”
Tears streaked down her cheeks. “It’s so humiliating. Having to tell you and Myra and Noah about my drug dealing husband. I haven’t even told Sylvie, but I need to.”
“Nobody could blame you for that. None of this is your fault.”
“Isn’t it?” She took a shaky breath. “I tried to leave Jon once before. Three years ago. I went to my parents’ house, and my mother told me I was being cruel.
She called in our pastor, too, and they lectured me about how weak I was.
Even when I told them Jon was an addict.
And…I started to believe them. I took Jon back because that was what my family wanted.
” She squeezed her eyes closed. “Now you want to tell me this isn’t partly my fault? ”
“Faith, they gaslighted you. Or maybe they believed what they were saying? I don’t know. But you’re living your life differently now. That’s what matters.”
“Maybe Jon’s trying to change, too, and I’m being unfair to him. But I can’t trust that he won’t put me in danger again.”
“Has he threatened you at all?”
“No, it wasn’t like that.”
“You know you can call me if you ever feel unsafe, right?”
She nodded slowly. “To hire you as my bodyguard?”
Tanner shrugged. “Pay me in fish tacos.” A smile snuck onto her face. “I also have hugs available. If anyone needs one.”
“I do,” she whispered.
He opened his arms, and Faith walked into his embrace. She laid her cheek against his chest.
Tanner didn’t want to admit how much he’d been longing to touch her. How he’d craved feeling her skin against his after that night on the beach.
She smelled like seagrass and coconut and the ocean breeze on a summer day. Or maybe those were just the memories she brought to mind. Small, perfect moments that felt like home to him. Moments he wanted to bottle up, so he’d have them on rainy days.
He felt a pang in his chest, knowing how soon he’d have to let her go.
“Why haven’t you told Sylvie this stuff? She wouldn’t judge you.”
“I know, but…” She shifted her head against his pec. “It’s usually hard to talk about all this. Except with you.”
Her hand moved to his abs and lightly gripped his shirt. Tanner held his breath. Suddenly he was acutely, painfully aware of every nerve ending in his body, especially the ones in contact with her. The rest of him really wanted to join in. The more contact, the better.
Which, sadly, wasn’t going to happen.
“You seem to be around for all my humiliating moments in West Oaks,” she said.
He laughed, and he felt her moving in response, snuggling into him. “I could ask my mom to send some middle school pictures of me if you want to even the score. My hair was even crazier.”
“Is that possible?”
“And my beard was longer then, too.”
She swatted his chest with the back of her hand. “I do wonder what you’d look like without the beard.”
“You want this ugly mug on full display?”
“Ugly? Yeah, right. Is that why you have that bushy beard? You’re hiding behind it?”
“Me? I don’t hide. I let it all hang out.”
She glanced up at him, tilting her head and smirking. God, he loved it when she gave him that look. Like they were fully in this moment together, sharing a private joke that didn’t need words.
“Hey Faith, where’d you go?” Myra called out.
She pushed back from him. Tanner missed her already.
Faith’s eyes were bloodshot. “Thank you for being such a good friend.”
He should’ve been happy to hear it, but damn. That word still stung.
“Happy to help.” Tanner returned her smile, though it felt like rubbing lemon juice into a cut.
She went back into the bathroom for a few minutes. When she emerged, her eyes were clear, and her smile had returned.
He and Noah walked the two of them to the exit and watched them go.
Noah spun around, dimple sinking into his cheek. “So. What’s up with you and Faith?”
Tanner jammed his fists into his pockets. “We’re just friends.” Faith had made that clear just in case he’d gotten confused.
And he wasn’t in the right headspace to try for anything more. It wouldn’t be fair for him to weigh her down with the shit he was going through. Not when she already had problems of her own.
“You really wouldn’t mind if I ask her out?”
Tanner’s response was stuck in his throat.
Noah was a good guy. The best. The kind of man Tanner would fix up with his own sister if she were single. It would be an asshole move of colossal proportions if he stood in Noah’s way out of petty jealousy.
“Yeah, no. I don’t mind.”
Noah clapped his hands together. “Perfect. Think you can put in a word for me? As her friend?”
Tanner forced out a laugh. “Please tell me your game is better than that.”
“Whatever happened to brotherhood? We’re supposed to be a team.”
“But it’s so fun to see you flail around.”
“Fine. Next time you need help getting laid, don’t come to me.”
Tanner knew that Noah was only kidding. Noah was more a serial monogamist than a man whore. Nor did the guy need help scoring a date.
But protectiveness still roared through Tanner’s veins. “You’d better treat her right. She’s been through a lot.”
“Easy, big guy. You know I will.”
Shit. He did know. Noah would be great with her, and Tanner hated it. Which made him the worst wingman—and friend—in existence.