Chapter Nine
Miles drove to Cody and TJ’s with his mind focused on someone it shouldn’t be. The dark fields and familiar turns barely registered. He knew where he was going without thinking about it, which was good because thinking was getting him nowhere.
Tanner had kissed him in that kitchen like he’d made up his mind in a split second and didn’t care what happened after. Miles had known better. He should have stopped it, yet he hadn’t, and worse was that he didn’t regret it either.
That was the part that was getting to him.
Not just that Tanner was young, or that Miles had been there in uniform, or that the whole thing had happened in a house.
It was the fact that when Miles left, he wanted to turn the cruiser around and go back.
He wanted to knock on that door again and drag Tanner into his arms and do it all over.
He gripped the wheel harder and exhaled heavily. Bad idea didn’t even begin to cover it.
TJ’s truck and Cody’s car were already in the driveway when Miles pulled up.
Another vehicle sat behind it, one he recognized as Santino’s.
Warm light spilled from the kitchen window and across the yard.
For a second Miles stayed where he was with the engine off, staring at the house. Then he got out and headed up the path.
Cody opened the back door before Miles could knock. He took one look at Miles and stepped to one side. “You look rough.”
Miles grunted. “Nice to see you too.”
“I didn’t say you looked bad,” Cody said, shutting the door behind him. “I said you looked rough.”
From the kitchen, TJ called, “Same thing.”
“It isn’t,” Cody called back, then looked at Miles again. “You eaten?”
Miles sighed at the question as he toed off his boots by the door. “No.”
“Thought so.”
The house smelled of garlic, tomatoes, and bread. It should have made his stomach growl but instead it only reminded him he hadn’t eaten since earlier and hadn’t really noticed. He shrugged out of his jacket and followed Cody into the kitchen.
TJ stood by the stove with a beer in hand. Orsen sat at the table with Santino beside him, both of them halfway through their drinks. Orsen smiled at Miles. “Hi, Miles.”
Santino’s gaze lingered a fraction longer, quiet and assessing in that way of his that made it clear he missed very little. “How are you?”
Before he could answer, TJ looked him over and snorted. “Jesus. What happened to you?”
Miles pulled out a chair. “Long day.”
“That your answer?” TJ asked.
“It covers a lot.”
Cody put a plate down in front of him. Pasta, thick sauce, and bread on the side. He put a beer beside it a second later. “Eat first. Talk after.”
Miles looked at the food, then at Cody. “You always this bossy?”
“Yes,” Cody grinned. “You’re only noticing because you need feeding.”
Orsen chuckled while Santino smiled into his drink. Miles picked up his fork and forced himself to eat. The pasta tasted delicious, and it reminded Miles how poor his cooking was in comparison. As he ate he was aware not only of the others also eating, but of the glances coming his way.
Santino broke the silence first. “TJ said you went back out there.”
Miles kept his eyes on his plate. “Yeah.”
TJ folded his arms. “Was it any better this time?”
Miles gave a short laugh that held no humor. “No, not really.” And he really wasn’t going to discuss why.
Cody leaned forward slightly. “How’s Savannah?”
Miles paused, then said, “She was at Mrs. Hemsworth’s.”
“And Tanner?” TJ asked.
Miles took a drink before answering. “Still defensive.”
“That’s to be expected,” Orsen said.
“Still tired,” Miles added. “Still trying to act like he’s got everything under control.”
TJ rubbed at his jaw. “House any warmer?”
Miles shook his head. “No power yet. Place is still cold and there isn’t much food in there either.”
Cody’s expression shifted at that, and he nodded slowly before giving TJ a soft smile. TJ returned it and reached out to take Cody’s hand.
Miles looked down at his plate. “He’s keeping hold of the important stuff. Her birth certificate, clinic paperwork, whatever proves her ties to him. That part’s covered. Everything else isn’t.”
Santino put his bottle down. “How bad did it look?”
Miles thought about the kitchen. The dark and Tanner’s bare feet on the cold floorboards. The way he’d stood all defensive until.... “Bad enough.”
Orsen nodded slowly. “He was a kid when he left.”
Miles glanced at him. “You knew him well?”
Orsen shrugged once. “Well, not much, but this is Robinson. We all knew each other one way or another.”
TJ took a sip of his beer. “Tanner kept to himself even back then.”
Cody took a bite of his food. “Even as fucked up as I was back then, I remember how quiet he was.”
TJ looked at him. “Cody.”
Cody met TJ’s eyes, then looked back at Miles. “What exactly did Tanner tell you?”
“Not much,” Miles said. “Enough to make it clear he doesn’t trust anybody.”
Cody leaned back in his chair. “He wouldn’t.”
Miles waited, knowing Cody was about to tell him something important. Cody’s life had been very different than Miles’, and it gave him a different perspective.
Cody rubbed his thumb along his bottle of water. “Everyone in town talks about Tanner leaving with Savannah like it was some mystery. Boy vanishes. House sits empty. End of story. That’s the version they tell themselves, so they don’t have to look too hard at their own behavior back then.”
Miles looked at him. “Meaning?”
Cody held his gaze for a second. “I wasn’t here when he left. I don’t know the full story. But he was sixteen with a baby and no money or family.”
Miles said nothing.
Cody went on, voice dropping. “Knowing this place, people would’ve offered sympathy for all of five minutes.
Maybe even a few casseroles. Next thing Tanner knows, there’s forms, and appointments, and too many people in his face, and he’s overwhelmed.
Then CPS.” Cody shrugged. “A baby that young? It wouldn’t have taken much for people to start getting ideas.
” Cody trailed off, but Miles understood.
TJ stared into his beer. “That was the risk, yeah.”
“And Tanner knew it,” Cody said. “He might not have had the words for all of it then, but he knew enough. Once someone else got hold of her, getting her back wouldn’t have been simple.”
Miles thought of Tanner’s face every time Savannah came up. The way his whole body changed. “He ran before they could take her.”
“Yeah,” Cody said. “And then he had to keep her.”
The words hung there until Santino spoke quietly. “That changes the kind of choices available.”
Cody looked at him and nodded once. “Exactly.”
Miles put his fork down. He wasn’t hungry anymore. “What choices?”
TJ shifted but didn’t interrupt.
Cody’s eyes stayed on Miles. “The kind nobody wants to say out loud because once you say it, you can’t pretend you don’t know.”
Miles felt his stomach tighten.
Cody said, “A kid like Tanner, on his own, with a baby to feed, living wherever he could, doing whatever he had to do? You think he was making reckless choices for the hell of it?” He shook his head.
“No. Everything would’ve gone through Savannah first. Can Savannah eat?
Can she sleep somewhere safe? Can he keep hold of her for another day? ”
Orsen let out a slow breath then nodded. “She would always come first.”
Miles said, more quietly, “You think he sold drugs.”
“Maybe ran them,” Cody said. “Maybe held onto packages for people he shouldn’t have been near. Maybe did odd jobs off the books for cash. Maybe stole food. Probably did more than one of those.”
TJ’s jaw tightened but he didn’t argue.
“And maybe worse,” Cody murmured.
No one spoke for a minute until Miles looked at Cody and asked, “How worse?”
Cody’s face stayed still. “Whatever he had to.”
TJ muttered, “Cody.”
“What?” Cody looked at him. “You asked what Tanner’s life probably looked like. I’m giving the honest answer.”
Orsen rested a hand on the table. “He’s right.”
Miles looked at Orsen.
Orsen sighed. “There’s a difference between somebody spiraling because they don’t care what happens to them and somebody making calculated choices because someone else depends on them.”
Cody nodded. “Yeah.” He looked directly at Miles. “What I did back then? A lot of mine was self-inflicted. I was angry and I hated myself. I pushed and pushed until I didn’t care if I wrecked my own life.” He tapped the table. “That’s not Tanner.”
Miles stayed still. Cody was suggesting something that Miles hadn’t considered. What would a teenager be willing to do to keep his baby sister safe?
Cody continued, “Tanner wouldn’t have been out there self-destructing for the sake of it.
He’d have been doing the math in his head every day.
Food. Rent. Bus fare. Medicine. Diapers and formula when she was little.
Shoes when she outgrew the last pair. He’d have made the choices that kept her going, kept her alive, no matter what it cost him. ”
Miles thought of Tanner’s clothes. His bare feet on the cold floorboards. The hard edge in his voice every time Savannah came up. The fact that he’d come back to Robinson with almost nothing except for her and what he needed to keep her with him.
Santino said, “That kind of survival leaves a mark.”
“Yeah,” Cody whispered. “It does.”
TJ finally pushed his plate away. “Which is why we keep this from turning into the town’s latest entertainment.” He looked at Miles. “People will talk soon enough. I’d rather they have less to talk about.”
Miles nodded, but his mind was already somewhere else. He’d wanted Tanner from the second the door had opened. That hadn’t changed, but now he had more to think about and it was harder to ignore.
Tanner wasn’t just a guy with sharp eyes, and a mouth Miles couldn’t stop thinking about.
He was a nineteen-year-old who’d spent years making impossible calls to keep his sister safe.
Knowing that should have made Miles step back a little, but he found he couldn’t do that.
If anything, it only made him want Tanner more.
Miles dragged a hand over his face. “Christ.”