Chapter 8
Tate Madden
Time had never passed so slowly.
The house had been invaded by a nervous energy since Master Greer had left, and it had only increased when Colt announced we had good reason to believe Shay was alive.
He didn’t offer any details in his updates.
Maybe it was because Greer didn’t share much.
Maybe it was because Colt kept some things private.
Who knew. But these past two days had been filled with theories and speculations on whereabouts, outcomes, and connecting news stories to the Tenleys’ operation.
It was called an actual operation, like it was some action movie.
I couldn’t sit still. Mom had offered to watch the girls again, thank fuck, so that I could sit here in the club area and bounce my knees restlessly.
Everyone needed a hobby.
Kingsley came out once he was off work.
Jack and Franklin stopped by with dinner for everyone. Literally, they’d catered a bunch of food from a nearby Italian place, so the house smelled like oregano and Parmesan. One by one, members emerged from the kitchen with bowls of pasta, bread, and pizza.
I wasn’t hungry, but I fetched a plate for Lee.
He was being patient with me.
I hadn’t reached his limit yet, but I could sense I was closing in on it. At which point, he’d probably force me to speak to Nathan again. Who had fancier degrees than I gave him credit for, and I could acknowledge that once Shay was home and I was able to un-fucking-clench.
How could people eat?!
I didn’t get it. I felt too jittery and frazzled.
The knowledge that Shay was alive and possibly okay-ish had lifted the brats’ spirits, so maybe it was their energy that rubbed me the wrong way.
Because a lot could go wrong, dammit. This wasn’t some nice little rescue scenario where FBI agents and local law enforcement got all the bad guys and saved Shay, the woman—Marisa—and the little girl.
Blake was her name. No, this was some rogue shit where former soldiers and private military contractors went in, guns blazing.
At least, that was the impression I had. I mean, Ty and Colt had equipped Greer with something that went on a weapon so he could see clearer and detect enemies easier. If that didn’t scream combat, nothing did.
I stared at Colt. He sat on one of the sofas with Mr. West. Both with bowls of pasta, both with their phones.
Come on. Say something.
We hadn’t received an update today.
I couldn’t try to read the expressions of Archie, Corey, and Sloan either, because they weren’t here. They were home with the kids. They’d wanted to isolate themselves a bit while they waited for their man to return.
Man, was I gonna bawl my eyes out when this was over. I felt as if every muscle in my body was tense.
I stiffened further when I saw Ty and Lane arrive, and it set me in motion. I was out of my seat and walking out to the lobby before they’d decided which direction to go, kitchen or club.
“Hey, guys,” I said, clearing my throat. “Can I talk to you, Lane?”
He looked a little confused, maybe because I was putting too much urgency into the air, but he nodded. “Sure.”
We headed out to the front porch, and I gestured to the little seating area.
“What’s up?” he asked, sitting down on a sofa.
I picked the same one but put a couple feet between us. No need to get all up in his face.
“Well, I was wondering about you,” I admitted.
“It’s none of my business, but since I know you and Ty have something with the Tenleys, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to…
I don’t know, be there for you? I don’t know how many others are in the loop or if you’re getting the support you need—or if you even need it. But I wanted to ask.”
He mustered a hesitant smile. “I just gotta push through. I don’t care who knows about us. I mean, we didn’t intend for our relationship to be a secret—we’re just…you know.”
“Private about things.”
He nodded once. “Yeah. But…yeah.” He blew out a breath and deflated. “It’s rough. I can’t explain it, but it was like a part of me died when we learned he was taken.” He swallowed, and his gaze dropped to his lap. “I can barely say his name without falling apart.”
One thing was clear. More feelings were involved than I’d originally thought.
I reached out and put my hand on his. “Do you love him?”
He made a face and weighed his response.
“Not in the traditional sense. It’s hard to explain.
Weirdly, when I went on a ramble before they were off to San Diego, River was the first one who was like…
‘I get it.’ It’s…almost like a brother thing.
” He scratched his jaw and squinted at nothing.
“Ty is my world. He’s the love of my life.
Everything I feel about him and our marriage, I can put into words.
Same with the relationship we have with Macklin and Walker.
There’s care and affection, friendship—even love, to a degree, and a deep connection.
With Shay, it feels… I mean, there’s attraction, of course.
Between all of us. We have core kinks that bring us together for some fucking fantastic play. ”
I could totally see that. Reese and Ty had formed a friendship pretty instantly once Ty and Lane had joined our community a few years ago.
They were both batshit and hedonistic but had built their brand of craziness on a foundation of knowledge and safety.
They’d created a comfort zone in which they could go wild and bring mayhem to their partners.
“If I believed such a thing, I’d say Shay and I were separated at birth,” Lane said quietly. Then he chuckled a little and shook his head. “I know it sounds bizarre.”
“It doesn’t.” Not to my ears. If soul mates were a concept, why not soul friends and soul brothers?
We didn’t have to understand every bond in order to believe it was real.
“There was something about him that drew me in from the first time we met—down in Florida,” Lane admitted.
“I was so focused on Ty at the time that I didn’t think much of it.
” He paused. “It was Ty who brought it up. He and Reese started talking about us possibly playing together, which we’ve floated several times in the past. Like, without making actual plans. A down-the-road kind of thing.”
I nodded in understanding. It was, after all, how Kingsley and I had become aware of their dynamic eventually. They’d watched me top Lane and Shay. The scene had been fairly nonsexual—but packed with energy and desire, nonetheless. A heady experience.
“I’d imagine that made you look at Shay with new eyes,” I said.
“Heh. Yeah, you could say that. Then one night, River was tipsy, and he had an idea, he said—and things snowballed from there.”
I grinned.
I wasn’t gonna push for details. It felt like Lane needed to talk, so I was just gonna listen.
The next breath deflated him again, and he scrubbed his hands over his face. “I need him to come home like fucking yesterday.”
I gave his knee a gentle squeeze. “Have you talked to his brothers?”
He nodded. “Almost every day since they got back from San Diego. Ty and I pick them up in the afternoon, and we walk Shay’s dogs together.”
Oh. I didn’t know that. But I was sure TJ and Levi appreciated it.
“If there’s anything you need, please let me know,” I murmured. “If you need help with the dogs, if you want distractions, maybe a movie night…? Whatever.”
He bobbed his head and looked down.
Fuck, I hoped the wait was over soon.
Lucas Carter
To me, it felt like time stood still, but to Greer…
? Jesus Christ, they’d truly hit the ground running.
New York to LA, LA to Colombia—I didn’t know which city—and then straight out into the rainforest and the hiding spot of a drug cartel.
That was where the updates had stopped, and Greer had been gone from Virginia for roughly forty-eight hours. He must be exhausted.
It was a quiet night out on the patio, yet it didn’t feel calm or peaceful. Nobody said much, but I’d guess our blood pressure was up there as if we’d gorged on steak and fries. At a rave.
Tate and Kingsley decided to get rid of some energy by doing laps in the pool.
Lane was making sure everyone had written at least once in the notebook.
I had probably made six or seven entries.
Ty was sitting comfortably on one of the low couches, but his eyes were fixed on Lane.
Macklin and Walker sat there too, picking at their late-night snacks.
Macklin truly couldn’t stop cooking food. Thankfully, he’d returned to making things we actually enjoyed. Even if our appetites weren’t the best.
Noa, KC, Lucian, Cam, Nathan, Ash, James, Jordan, Colt, and Kit…they sat scattered about with their screens of preference.
Every now and then, people glanced over at Colt. He’d politely requested a bit of space so he could focus on his laptop, so I had no idea what he was doing over there. He had a table to himself.
Hmpf.
We needed an update.
I checked my watch.
Almost two in the morning.
Colt seemed certain something was happening tonight. It was why nobody had gone to bed. But he’d also warned us it could be hours—if not longer—before we heard anything.
“Daddy?” Kit glanced over at Colt. “Can I get you anything?”
Colt offered a quick smile over his laptop. “I’m good, baby. Thanks.”
Kit was seated at one of the picnic tables with Jordan and Noa, and I could smell their scheme from a mile away. They were trying to get close to Colt. But why? He was reading the same news we were—while waiting for Greer to make contact.
“Offer him a blow job.” Noa couldn’t whisper to save his life.
Two hours later, Tate and Kingsley called it a night, and Macklin and Walker were off shortly after.
At that point, Lucian gave Cam and Noa a half-hour warning, and when Noa protested, Lucian pointed to their cabin.
“We’ll be twenty feet away, chipmunk. If something happens, Colt can wake us up.”