TAG

by Shari J. Ryan

  I feel like my gut was just pulled out of my stomach and thrown over the ledge behind us. I haven’t hurt so much for someone else other than Mom and Krissy. I don’t know what that means, but I can’t just ignore the way I’m feeling. “I’m done giving you the silent treatment, Tango. You didn’t deserve that from me.”

  Even though I’m done giving him the cold shoulder, I have no words to respond to everything he just said—to everything I’m trying to digest and understand.

  When I finally lift my gaze from the red dirt beneath my feet, my eyes find his. My eyes find a comrade of agony. “I’m sorry you thought I’d make you a home wrecker,” he says as a tiny smile creeps over his lips.

  “I was only upset, because . . . I—” My gaze angles toward the dirt again, but his finger slides under my chin, forcing me to look back up at him.

  “I know why you were upset. I would have been upset too. It’s why I asked you if your friend was a boyfriend.”

  His hands slowly and cautiously reach around my back and I can feel every part of his hands caress me. My skin craves to connect through the thin layers of fabric separating our bodies. He pulls me in closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off his chest. I can smell a hint of detergent in his shirt and the salty sweat beading up on his arms.

  With his eyes locked on mine, waiting for a reaction, waiting for me to maybe stop him, his hand reaches down around my butt and he pulls me up to his waist where my legs loop around his body. His other hand slides up my side until it finds my cheek. My eyes close in response. His hand feels protective, reassuring, and I know how badly I need and want this.

  “Open your eyes,” he whispers. “Look at me.” As if my eyes are obeying his words, they open without a thought. His face is only inches from mine. Being this close, I can see a teal ring surrounding the jade hue of his irises, and I can see tiny freckles making a straight line down the bridge of his nose. His breath tickles and teases my lips. The sweet scent mixed with the fresh air pulls me in. “I want to make you smile, Cali.”

  I bite down on my bottom lip to suppress my nerves. I want to smile too. I want to be happy more than anything in this whole fucked up world. I want someone to like me, to love me, to care about me. I want someone I can trust.

  The fury building within him is clear. His thirst needs to be quenched, and so does mine. He moves in painfully slow and stops just before his lips touch mine. My heart pounds so hard and my breath feels as if it’s been sucked completely out of my lungs. A sexy grin stretches across his lips. The seconds pass, the wanting in my body making it feel like forever. He finally closes the space between us, lightly pressing his lips against mine. All of his edges are so rough and raw, but his lips are soft and warm. His mouth explores mine, gentle at first before pulling away. His smile is replaced with a serious expression. I think he’s gauging my reaction.

  I don’t know what my face looks like right now, but if I can’t touch his lips again, it’s going to look destroyed. “Kiss me,” I beg.

  His mouth quickly covers mine again, and his lips part as his tongue begins to pursue mine, allowing me to taste him, letting me breathe his breath. His hands move around my back, pressing me against him with what seems like all his strength. My fingers find their way to the back of his neck and into the nape of his hair. The slight touch of his buzzed stubble tickles my palms, forcing me to press harder until the prickles turn soft.

  When air stops flowing, our lips part, and my eyes search between his, knowing words and explanations aren’t necessary. We feel the same way. We need each other with the same desire. And I haven’t ever felt this way about any other person. It’s only been days, but this connection feels as though it’s been here forever. If he can believe in fate, so can I.

  The tip of his thumb finds my bottom lip and presses gently. “You’re smiling,” he whispers.

  His words make me realize how unfamiliar the feeling is. I know how to fake a good smile when I have to, but I haven’t grinned like this since before Mom and Krissy died. I haven’t felt like it’s been okay to really smile with my heart. And now that I can, it feels incredible. “I can’t help it.”

  He leans in again and pecks my lips. “I can.” He smiles in return as he places me back down on my feet. His arms wrap around me, and he holds me against him. With my ear up against his chest, I can hear the orchestra of his heart racing and his erratic breaths, along with wheezing and a struggle in his lungs.

  I hope I didn’t steal too many of his last breaths.

  I believe everything he said, and I think I might even trust him.

  I’m sorry, Mom, but I think I do.

  He releases an arm and places one last kiss on the top of my head. “We better get back on the road.” His hand drops into mine, and he pulls me toward the truck. I don’t want to leave this spot, the place that will always hold an amazing memory.

  ***

  It takes minutes before I acknowledge what just happened. I want to relive that moment over and over again.

  The tips of my fingers keep finding their way to my lips, recalling the sensation of his mouth. I don’t even know where we go from here. Do I pretend like he’s not supposed to die in the next few weeks? Or do I just forget that he’s sick—maybe I could just be his for whatever time he has left. I know what pain will come at the end of that road, but am I crazy to think the pain would be worth it in the end?

  “Did you want to see your friend still?” His words sway me from my contemplation when he brings up Sasha. I almost forgot we were supposed to meet her. “We’ll be in Pecos in about an hour.”

  “She named some place called Churro Grill.”

  He hands me his phone and says, “Open the GPS and type it in. It should come up.”

  The address pops up, along with a list of directions. “All set.” I hold up the phone to show him. “Stay on this highway for another forty miles, then it’s about ten miles from there.”

  “Must be off the beaten path. That’s a good thing,” he says, adjusting the rearview mirror. “She knows a lot about you?”

  “Minimal information,” I respond curtly.

  “Good. She can’t know where we’re going.”

  “Tango, I know this.”

  “I know. I just felt better saying it out loud.”

  “So, if you buried your identity, does that mean . . . your real name isn’t actually Tango? My thoughts come out in blunt words, but I want to know. I’ve wanted to know. I can tell he’s searching for an answer. I can tell he’s been trying to erase that part of his life, to forget who he was. But who he was made him who he is, and I want to know. This is the first time I’ve seen a nervous look appear on his face. “I won’t tell anyone, and I won’t call you by it. I just want to know who you were before you became no one.”

  He looks at me and grinds his jaw back and forth. After a heavy sigh, he says, “Tyler Wright.”

  A warm feeling tugs at my heart. “I like it.” I place my hand over his. “But Tango suits you.” I squeeze his hand gently. “Ooh! I know. You could call me Charlie,” I laugh a little at my own militaristic joke.

  “Impressive. You know the military alphabet?”

  “Common knowledge in my household.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll just call you Tango’s Alpha Girl, TAG,” he laughs, and his eyes gleam, making him look healthier and happier than I’ve seen him since we met.

  I’ll ignore that he just called me an alpha girl and focus on the fact that he just referred to me as his girl. “Your girl?” I ask with a raised brow.

  “Maybe. The position is available and you’re a suitable candidate.”

  I press my finger up to my lip, pondering the idea. “Hmm. What do I have to do to fill this position?” I can only imagine the typical man answers running through his head.

  “I’ll come up with a job description. Give me a little time.” His smile keeps growing larger, and I want to kiss every inch of it.

  TANGO

  How many times can
I lick my lips before I don’t taste her anymore? Holy fucking shit. I can’t believe I just did that. It was like my mind just stopped working. It did stop working. I stopped thinking and just reacted. Maybe it’s because I haven’t felt lips on mine or held a woman that closely to me in so long. I don’t know what she’s done to me. I don’t know how she captured my heart the way she has, but she’s raising the stakes, making me want to fight for this happy ending—actually for no ending at all.

  I have to make it through these canyons. I have to survive for her. Now that I’ve drunk her, sipped her, savored her, and combed my fingers through her silken hair, how the hell can I just let my lungs take everything away from me? I don’t know how I’ll be able to focus on anything but her now. Although, I do know I’m going to end up hurting her very badly if this doesn’t work out the way I’m hoping. I’m selfish. I am so fucking selfish. I have to beat this. For her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CALI

  WE PULL INTO a dirt lot filled with beat up cars, a couple of bikes, and a handful of eighteen-wheelers. Looks like a pit stop. The place is rundown, decked out with white Christmas lights and a deteriorating deck hanging off the front entrance. The confused look on his face matches how I feel, wondering why Sasha would direct us here. He doesn’t even know she’s a cute little blond girl probably sitting in the middle of way too many lonely truck drivers.

  “I’m going to go in and scope the place out. What does she look like?” he asks.

  I don’t argue. Something feels a little off about this place. “She’s a tiny little thing. Long curly blond hair, big blue eyes, and usually wears a lot of pink. If she’s in there, you won’t miss her.” I try not to laugh at my description. I used to call Sasha Miss Piggy because of the amount of pink she wore. She’s a little obsessed. As we grew older, it became apparent how much our personalities clashed. Nevertheless, when you grow up as close as we grew up, it doesn’t matter what changes either of us went through, we still love each other for who we have always been. Acceptance and tolerance have never been questioned.

  “Good to know we won’t be drawing attention to ourselves here,” he jokes.

  “Who knows, maybe she’s toned it down. But I’d have to say, I doubt it.”

  He casually makes his way inside of the shack-looking restaurant. I swear I just saw a rat squirm out through the hatch doors on the side of the building, and I think I’ve just lost my appetite.

  It takes Tango less than a minute to observe and pop his head back out. He nods his head toward the front entrance, confirming it’s okay to come in. I’m excited to see Sasha. It’s been over a year, and our last encounter wasn’t on the greatest terms. It was right after Krissy was murdered.

  I can remember the call as if it happened yesterday. I called from the hospital room I was in, alone, after I was shot. Reaper escaped and was already on the run. There wasn’t even a trace of his existence left for the police to find. I was in shock and in a lot of pain; especially finding out the bullet he shot me with would become a new accessory inside of my body. I was so alone. I wanted to pour alcohol into my eyes just to destroy the image of Krissy’s neck being slashed. I couldn’t figure out how I’d survive without her. I didn’t want to. Our lives weren’t supposed to end up like this. We had big plans. We were going to go with our friends, Chloe and Alex, to live in Paris for a year and then we were going to travel the world. We were going to forget about the lives we were left to deal with, and I was going to help her forget about the rape she was forced to survive through. It was a good solid plan. All she had to do was finish her last two years of college, but that night was the ending to our dream. It was the ending to everything I had left, and I had intended it to be my ending too.

  I saw my bloody bag of clothes on a table across the room. I pulled myself out of the bed, pain stricken and weak, but grabbed the bag. I sifted through it until I found my jeans pocket where I had a small knife. I took it out and didn’t waste any time. I made a slash across my wrist, but what I didn’t know was that there was a proper way to end my life, and I did it the wrong way. I was just bleeding, not losing my life.

  That’s when I called Sasha, hysterical, explaining minute-by-minute the past three hours of my life. She’s a strong girl, but she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t help me with this one. She just cried with me. We cried until a nurse found me bleeding with a bloody knife in my hand.

  It only got worse from there.

  Once I was released from the hospital and intense psychiatric care, I told Sasha she wasn’t safe. Reaper knew her and if he killed Krissy for information, I wouldn’t put it past him to go through her next. I had already told the police I didn’t know who the murderer was. Part of me was scared to tell them the truth; the other part of me was as crazy as I still am today, wanting to kill him myself.

  I pull on the flimsy door handle of the restaurant and inhale the scent of tortilla chips and refried beans. I look past the smoke clouding over the bar and I see her waving furiously at me. She jumps out of the booth and smothers me, kissing my cheeks, squeezing the air out of my lungs, loving me how my sister would have loved me if she were still here. The moment of affection nips at my heart.

  When she peels herself away from me, she wraps her hand around mine and pulls me to the table. Our encounter doesn’t disturb anyone and not a person has given us a second look. I now know why she’s chosen this location.

  Tango slides in against the window and I sit down next to him. She slides in across from me, her eyes never leaving my face. “Look at you, Cali-girl,” she says with a cheeky smile. “You look beautiful. Happy, even.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Tango biting down on his bottom lip, probably knowing he is the reason for my stupid grin. Sasha’s focus moves from Tango’s face to mine, back to Tango’s, and back to mine again. “You two are together, aren’t you?” I can’t believe she just asked me that after the texts I sent her last night.

  “Sasha?” I groan.

  “I know what you said, Cali, but—“ she says.

  “Wait. You told her about me?” Tango asks while wrapping an arm around me, which totally answers Sasha’s accusatory question.

  I throw my head back against the seat and kick her in the shin. I can feel my cheeks redden as I look over at Tango. It’s clear my face is showing embarrassment, and by the look of his deepening dimples, he’s nothing less than amused.

  “I told her you were an asshole,” I say to Tango. Seeing the slight arch in his brow and the smallest tug on the corner of his lip, I can tell he’s calling my bluff.

  “Actually, that’s not what she said,” Sasha outs me. “But he is pretty hot, Cali.” She says, fanning herself. Who does that right in front of the person we’re talking about? Sasha, of course. I now want to climb under the table.

  Tango straightens the collar of his shirt and lifts his brows. “I know, right?” he laughs along with Sasha.

  “Shall I leave you two alone here?” I grumble.

  “Oh stop it. I’m just playing with you, Cali.”

  I huff; blowing the loose strands of hair off my forehead, lean back, and cross my arms over my chest. “So I guess I don’t have to introduce you two.”

  “Sasha and I became insta-friends, don’t worry,” Tango says.

  “Fantastic,” I say. I should have known better than to introduce this smoldering hot marine to my best friend.

  “I missed you, Cali-girl.” She’s staring at me, trying to read my mind like she always does. I can’t help but wonder what she speculates about my life. I imagine she has a good idea of what’s usually happening, but then again, no one could possibly guess the shit that I’m faced with on a normal basis. All I do know is, I wish I could tell her everything. “I ordered you fajitas and tequila, your fave.” The memory of the last time she ordered me those two menu items swishes through me with a wave of nausea. Spring break, senior year of high school—it tasted great going down, not so much coming back up.

&
nbsp; “Thanks, Sash,” I smirk.

  “Kidding. I ordered you quesadillas and a shot of tequila.”

  “And that is why we became insta-friends. This girl is awesome,” he says about Sasha.

  Sasha’s expression becomes serious as she looks Tango directly in the eyes. “Hey, you have a girl at home?” I’m going to kill her, and I think the look on my face resonates with that thought.

  “Nah, Carolina and I just settled this confusion.”

  “See, Cali, he’s single. Free rein.” She wraps her lips around her straw and winks at me. This girl loves to push my buttons, and she is the only one who gets away with it. When she pulls the straw from her mouth, she looks directly at Tango, seeming as if she’s contemplating her next thought more carefully than she would normally look before spouting off embarrassing information. “This girl is like my sister, and I will go to the ends of the earth to protect her. If you hurt her, I’ll kill you. Kapeesh?” I drop my head into my hands and remind myself again that I should have known better than to tell her about him.

  Tango seems unfazed by her threat. “It’s all good, Sasha. I’m sort of falling for this crazy chick.” He squeezes me with the arm that’s still resting around the back of my neck and places a quick kiss on the top of my head.

  Everything. He. Does. Makes. Me. Melt.