Truck Stop Tango
Page 22
“All right, buddy,” I said, clapping, then rubbing my hands together. “Let’s do this. Beach, then the football field. You get to play with the big boys today.”
“Yay!” Rocky jumped up and down.
“Big boys?” Slade asked.
“I promised Brett I’d watch a practice. Thought Rocky might have fun.”
“Brett?” she asked, eyebrows quirked.
“He’s assistant coach at WS High. You didn’t know?”
Her gaze sliced to the floor, then back to me. “Yeah. I heard. Just haven’t seen him since…” Slade forced a smile. “Well. You know.”
Yeah. I knew. Would never forget. Guilt was a nasty bitch to shake. Slade had sacrificed so much. Too much. Her youth, college, friends. All for my son.
“We’ll pick you up at six.”
“It’s fine. I can walk home.”
Over my cold, dead body. “I’ll pick you up. No arguments.” Shit, had she forgotten what happened to Kim already?
Chewing on her bottom lip, Slade conceded with a nod. We had just reached the front door when her soft fingers wrapped around my arm. “Tango, wait.”
I turned, and she lifted up on her toes, pressing a soft cheek to mine.
“I am sore,” she whispered against my ear, so soft I barely heard the words. “Every time I move, or bend, I feel you between my legs. Think about that while you play at the beach.”
Fucking hell.
Slade bent to kiss Rocky on the head. “Bye, sweetie. See you tonight.” The back of her hand brushed my cock as she turned before sauntering to the counter.
I dodged a group of sun-kissed teenagers piling through the door, scooted my son and his milkshakes to the car, and hoped like hell nobody noticed the tent in my shorts.
The day flew by. Swimming. Eating. Football. Eating. Home. Eating. Rocky was a bottomless pit. If only I could get his mom to eat the same way. Through the rearview, I could see he had passed out, clinging tightly to his football. He’d played hard, and it was obvious by the slack jaw and faint snore that he slept hard, too.
As I turned onto Lakeview Drive, I noticed a Harley, slowing almost to a stop in front of Dad’s house. The driver’s arms were heavily tatted, his identity hidden behind a half-helmet and dark glasses. When I turned into the driveway, he tore down the street before I could get a look at his cut.
There was something wrong about the way he looked at the house.
I slammed the vehicle into park, snagged my phone off its dock, and dialed.
Tito answered on the first ring. “Tango. What’s up?”
“Your friend with the sixty-niners MC still alive and kicking?”
“Yeah. Just released. Spoke with him yesterday.”
“Can you get some intel?”
“I can do that. Won’t be cheap.”
“Money is not an issue.”
I gave Tito the low-down on the Satan’s Slayers and Slade’s involvement with them. “Find out who this territory belongs to. Let me know if the Slayers are making to move west.” Fuck, I hoped my gut instinct was wrong.
I itched to get to my girl, but I had a meeting with Dad to get through first. I called her cell anyway, because it’d been six hours too many since I’d heard her voice.
My call went straight to voicemail, as I’d assumed it would. Just hearing her sweet words calmed the raging storm that biker had stirred up.
“Slade. Hey. We’re heading over to Pop’s. Rocky is out cold in the back seat. Played hard today. Ate like a champion. Misses his mom. Not as much as I do, though.” I paused and shook my head. Shit. Look at me all domesticated. “See you soon, babylove.”
As I maneuvered the Rover through our cobblestone driveway, toward our ridiculous, lakeside home, Kaylee passed in her silver Honda, heading away from the house. Rage billowed in my gut. Fucking Dad.
As she drove by, her tinted window lowered and she stuck her hand through the opening, flipping me the bird. Not sure why, but her gesture made me chuckle.
Dad must’ve seen me coming. He waited on the front stoop, drink in hand, dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tie missing, hair disheveled.
When I lifted a sleeping Rocky out of his car seat, Dad’s face cracked, and he smiled. Fucking smiled. I hadn’t seen him beam like that in ... shit. I couldn’t remember the last time.
“How are my boys?” he asked, breath fragrant with the scent of liquor. Dad clapped my shoulder and turned to open the front door.
“Everything all right, Pop?” I asked, pausing to meet him eye to eye.
He lowered his gaze to the floor, turned, and headed to his office. I followed, laid Rocky on one end of the leather sofa, and planted my ass on the other.
Dad poured another drink. When he looked up, I was surprised to see joy on his face, highlighted by newly carved wrinkles around his eyes.
“I ended things with Kaylee.”
Damn, miracles did come true. “Good.”
“Wasn’t pretty.”
“Can’t imagine it would be.”
“Cutting her loose has cost me an arm and a leg. I bought her a building downtown. Perfect for a dance studio, small school, maybe. It was the only way I could get her to leave me alone.”
“It was the only way to ease your guilty conscience.”
He tapped his fingers on the desk. “I suppose you’re right about that.”
“What about Mom’s studio?” I asked.
“I’ve got a few ideas. Unless of course you want to take over her classes?”
“Hell no,” left my lips faster than I could wince. Dad and I laughed.
“When are you coming to work with me, T?”
“That’s what I’m here to discuss.”
“You’re still not sure.”
“I have a family now. They’re my priority. I need to know you’re going to accept Slade with open arms.”
“I think the question is, will she accept me?”
“You’re Rocky’s grandfather. My dad. She loves you by default, that’s her nature. All she ever wanted was for you and Mom to embrace her the way I did. No one loves harder than that girl.”
“I have a newfound respect for Miss Mason. She negotiated one hell of a deal. Not only did she get almost double what the property is worth, I also have to pay her employees their salary for a year, and guarantee them jobs with the company if they haven’t found work by the time the condos are built.”
“Shit.” I laughed. Couldn’t help it. “She outfoxed the silver fox.”
“Yeah, T. She did,” he chuckled, running a hand through his thick, graying hair. “She’s a keeper.”
Dad’s acceptance of Slade, his pride in her business savvy, brought a sting to my eyes and conjured a thick lump in my throat.
He slammed the rest of his drink and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you say, kiddo? Partner with your old man?”
Forgiveness was not an easy thing to give, especially when I’d collected and stored away a lifetime’s worth of offenses all filed under the name Carlos Rossi. Having been the recipient of undeserved forgiveness, I found it absurd to hold on to any grudges. Dad was human, just like me. He’d made mistakes, just as I had. For my son, I needed to forgive my father, because I, too, would make mistakes. I was responsible for teaching Rocky how to be a man, how to forgive, how to love and live as a man should.
I rose to my feet and met Dad eye to eye. Man to man. Father to son.
“I’d love nothing more than to work with you, Dad. Under one condition.”
Pop quirked a brow, choking out a laugh. “Let’s hear it.”
I could tell by the gleam in his eyes, he already knew what I was going to ask. The Truck Stop was Slade’s home. Rocky’s home. I couldn’t let my father take it from them.
“It might sting a bit.”
“This is going to sting. Are you ready?”
Rocky nodded, sucking his lips between his teeth. I poured peroxide over his knee and dabbed at the blood and bubbles dribbling down
his leg. “You okay?”
He sucked air through his teeth, wiggled in my lap and sung through the pain, “It’s cold. It’s cold. Ow, ow, ow.”
After his wound was dry and bandaged, I watched him run across the lawn and pick up his fallen bicycle. The dynamo hopped right back on and continued his quest to conquer all the bumps and valleys of our unkempt backyard.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and before looking at the screen I knew it was Tango. He had made a habit of calling or texting every hour, on the hour, since joining the family business. It’d only been a week since he’d started working with Carlos. One week since I’d closed the doors at The Stop for good.
“Hey, handsome.”
“Babylove. How are you holding up?”
Demolition on the diner had been scheduled to start that morning. I’d had an emotional meltdown during breakfast. Tango had held me until it’d passed.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine. I promise. You can stop asking.”
“What’s my little guy up to?”
“He’s tearing up the yard with his new bike.” The Diamondback Venom Tango had brought home the same day he’d decided to work with his father.
Tango’s deep laugh billowed through the receiver. “He’s ready to take on the track. That’s my boy. An overachiever like his mom.” Tango laughed again, then fell silent before whispering, “I miss you.”
I closed my eyes and sighed, absorbing his words, loving that he missed me. “Hurry home,” I muttered back and ended the call.
While he hadn’t officially moved in, Tango had continued to sleep on my couch. His clothes hung in my closet, and he’d crowded half of the bathroom vanity with his shaving gear. I had tiptoed down the stairs many mornings to find Rocky fast asleep, sprawled across his father’s chest.
I didn’t have room for jealousy, my heart too swollen with joy and gratitude.
Marion yelled a hello from her rose garden. I waved and made my way to our shared, waist-high, white picket fence. It was the prettiest part of my yard.
“Morning, Marion. How’s your mom?”
She hugged me, squeezing tighter than her norm. “Mama’s great. The home is taking good care of her. She’s even walking on her own.”
“That woman is going to outlive every one of us, isn’t she?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her.” Marion’s hearty chest bounced up and down with her laughter. “Can Rocky hang out with me today? I’ve missed my buddy.”
His bike fell at my feet, the handle bar scraping my leg on its way down. “Can I, Mom? Please, please, please.” He snagged his football off the ground. The kid never left home without it.
“Sure, honey,” I said, rubbing the growing welt on my shin. “But you have to be a big helper.”
“Yeah, Mister, I need your strong arms today,” Marion chimed in. “I’ve got to pick some berries and bake a cobbler. I need someone to help me stir and test the batter.” She shot me a wink.
I helped Rocky unbuckle his bike helmet and lifted him over the fence. “Thank you, Marion. I’ve got some errands to run, will that be okay?”
“Sure, honey. Take as long as you need.” She nodded toward the blue sedan that had been parked out front all week. “Any idea who owns that beast?”
“No.” I chewed the corner of my thumbnail, trying to ignore the feeling of dread creeping up my spine. Every morning, the car had been parked in a different spot across the street. I’d only paid attention because the windows were unusually dark.
Marion chuckled, her whole body bouncing with the effort. “Dollars to donuts Lorraine Bentley has a new boyfriend. Not a man on Earth can resist that woman’s culinary skills.”
She was probably right. Still, despite the swelling temperature, I shivered, unable to shake the feeling that I was being watched from behind the tinted glass of the Chrysler.
I said my goodbyes and parked Rocky’s shiny new bike next to my refurbished, vintage, pink two-speed.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket. “Hello?”
“Slade?”
I recognized the voice immediately. “Maurice. How are you?”
“Tired of eating alone. Wanna keep an old man company for a while?”
I’d missed his warm, leathery timbre. “I would love nothing more. You make coffee, I’ll bring muffins?”
“Perfect.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
I suspected his call had nothing to do with being lonely, and everything to do with the demolition. The Truck Stop had been as much a part of his history as it had been mine. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend this bittersweet day than with the man I’d shared almost every morning with for the past six years.
“ARE YOU INSANE? You can’t take them on.” The rumble of an amped crowd echoed through the speaker of my cell. I could almost smell the sweat and alcohol, the sweet stench of tobacco that hung so thick around the perimeter of the arena.
“You’ve read the file. You know what those fuckers are capable of. You saw what they did to Addison Reynolds. I won’t allow that shit anywhere near my family.” I fell into my desk chair and pulled the document back up that Tito had emailed earlier.
“You wanted out. You’re out. You do this. You’re back in for life. Luciano loves you like a son, but he doesn’t do favors. Be smart here, cousin.
I dropped a fist on my desk, making the empty styrofoam cup dance and tip over. “They’re a threat to my son. If I gotta dance with the devil to keep Rocky safe, then I dance.”
“Fuck. This is fucked. Christ. Listen. I’ve got a fight tonight. Let me deal with that freak show, then we’ll talk this through. Swear to fuck, cousin, if you make a move without me, I’ll kill you myself.”
“Tito…”
He ended the call.
Damn. Tito had nailed it. Things were fucked.
The Satan’s Slayers, who had formed in Montana in the early sixties, were slowly spreading their poison west. My guess was they wanted to use the retired highway to move their growing meth operations through the mountains and eventually expand their reach, either by taking over or forming an alliance with Idaho’s prominent gang, the Brothers of Banshee. One word from Luciano, and the Slayers would stay away from Whisper Springs. One word and my family would be safe. I, however, would be indebted for life. Luciano Voltolini would own me.
A knot twisted in my gut when I checked the time. It was nearing ten, and Dad still hadn’t shown up for work. Pop was never late.
I dialed his number again only to get his recorded voice. My skin vibrated with agitated nerves, and I paced my office twice before heading to the front desk.
“Morning, Lisa.”
Lisa continued tapping her keyboard, brows drawn tight. “Mr. Rossi.”
“Please, Lisa, just Tango.” I hated that formal shit. Dad demanded respect from his employees. I hadn’t earned it yet.
Lisa sighed and lifted her big brown eyes to me. “Good morning, Tango. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Breakfast?”
“No, thank you. Have you heard from Dad?”
“I haven’t. I’ve sent him several messages, but haven’t heard back. He missed a conference call this morning. Should I cancel today’s meetings?”
Shit. What was he up to? “Yes, please. Cancel everything for today. Reschedule if you can.”
Our eyes locked, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. Something was terribly wrong.
Lisa forced a smile. “If anything happened, Maria would’ve called you.”
“I think I’ll drive by the house anyway.” I jogged into my office and grabbed the keys. Shit, my heart threatened to pound a hole through my chest.
Lisa’s worried brows didn’t help my rising panic. “I’ll let you know if I hear from him,” she shouted as I passed her.
I sprinted to my car, ignored most of the stop signs on my drive home, and narrowly dodged a squirrel when I tore into our driveway. The front door of the house swung wide open. Broom in hand, Maria smiled wide when she sp
otted me.
“Tango. Hi, sweetie. When are you bringing that beautiful boy back? I have a gift for him.”
“Hey, Maria.” I kissed her right cheek, then her left. “Dad still home?”
“No. He left early this morning. Said he had to meet someone before heading to work.”
“He didn’t say who?”
“No, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it were that Kaylee girl. She hasn’t stopped calling the house since he gave her the boot.” Maria swung the bristles across the marble with more aggression than necessary. “I swear, I don’t know what got into your father, fooling around with a girl half his age. Serves him right, the grief she’s giving him.”
Her eyes snapped to mine, full of hellfire and fury. “Tell me you’re taking care of that lady of yours, Tango Rossi, because so help me, if you muck things up again, I’ll—”
“Maria. Breathe.” I pulled her into a hug because I didn’t know how else to shut her up, and I needed to find out where Dad had disappeared to.
She chuckled against my chest, then patted my back. “Oh my, I’ve overstepped. Forgive me.”
I let go and drew a deep breath. “Dad didn’t happen to leave his phone, did he?”
“I haven’t seen it lying around. But I haven’t been in his office yet today.”
“I’ll go check.” I dashed past the staircase, down the hall, and into his sanctuary. The phone was nowhere, but next to his computer sat a tumbler, half filled with amber liquid and oddly, ice cubes that hadn’t melted, leaving watermarks on the mahogany desk. I’d never known him to drink earlier than noon.
Fuck, Dad. What are you up to?
I fired up his laptop and rifled through his neatly stacked papers. There were no early morning appointments written on his desk calendar, none entered into his Google calendar.
Aside from the drink, the only thing I found out of the ordinary was a framed picture of Rocky. He must have taken the photo when we’d visited last week and Rocky had made Pop chase him through the rose garden.
Dad had insisted things were over with Kaylee. He’d even seemed embarrassed for his lapse in judgment. I didn’t believe he was seeing her again, but it was the only other clue I had. Deep down, I knew something was wrong. Kaylee’s new dance studio seemed the best place to check next.