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Sweet Dreams (Colorado Mountain 2)

Page 113

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Ned and Betty both joined our group, not close but not far away.

“Jonas, get our stuff,” Tate instructed. “Help Laurie get packed up and get to the truck.”

“He’s not going anywhere with you!” Neeta shouted at Tate.

“He’ll be home tomorrow at five,” Tate stated.

“He’s comin’ with me and he ain’t comin’ back ‘til that bitch is outta your house!” she returned on a yell.

“Petal!” Shambles cried and my eyes went to him to see his van parked behind the Chrysler and he was rushing toward us, his long hair flying behind him.

I took two steps back from Neeta, dragging Jonas with me. She took a step forward, Betty going with her but both Neeta and Betty stopped when Tate stepped between us.

“Petal!” Shambles repeated.

“Shambles, honey, now is not –” I stopped speaking when he skidded to a halt in front of us and I caught a look at his face.

Ignoring Neeta, he looked from me to Tate, face pale, obviously panicked and asked, “You find people?”

I watched the line of Tate’s body go alert, every inch of it and I did this while my own body tensed.

“You got a problem, Shambles?” Tate asked.

“Get in the f**kin’ car, Jonas, now!” Neeta ordered.

“They say you find people,” Shambles stated.

“Yeah, I find people,” Tate replied.

“Sunny’s missing,” Shambles told him, my body went solid and I saw Shambles was shaking.

“Jonas –” Neeta started but Tate’s hand came up, palm in her face and her mouth clamped shut.

“Bitch, shut your mouth right f**kin’ now,” Tate growled then without hesitation, he dropped his arm, looked at Shambles and ordered, “Talk to me.”

“She didn’t come home last night,” Shambles explained without delay. “We’ve been together for six years, we’ve never slept apart. Not once. Not even once and she didn’t come home. Last night, when it was getting late and she hadn’t come home, hadn’t answered her phone, I went out to find her. She told me where she was going to draw down the sun. I went there and she wasn’t there, her bike wasn’t there, nothing. I thought maybe she might have gone to one of our other places but I went to those too and she wasn’t at any of those either. I called her friends, the hospital, the police, nothing. So I went home and waited for her. It’s not like her. It just isn’t like her. She says where she’s going to be and she’s there. I waited all night. Called her phone, called the hospital again. I went to the police this morning, first thing. They said she had to be gone for forty-eight hours before they could do anything even though I told them this was not like her. I went around town, asking anyone if they’d seen her and I went to Bubba’s. Lady there said you find people. Do you find people?”

“I find people,” Tate replied.

“We need to find her,” Shambles whispered.

“Jonas, I’m not gonna say it again,” Neeta broke in to warn her son and I belatedly felt his body was trembling against mine.

Betty stepped forward and got between Tate and Neeta.

“Neeta, get in your car and go,” she demanded.

Neeta turned squinty eyes to Betty. “What’s this got to do with you?”

Betty didn’t answer. She turned her back on Neeta and she looked at Tate, Jonas and me. “Use the house to get changed. Go on, Ned’ll let you in.” When none of us moved, she urged softly, “Get now, this boy here needs Tate.”

I came unstuck and started to shuffle Jonas to the lounges that had our stuff scattered around and it happened.

Neeta lunged for Jonas, grasping his arm and tugging him violently out of mine. So violently, I watched his shoulder wrench in an unnatural way and he let out a surprised but agonized cry of pain.

When this happened, everyone flew into motion.

Ned jumped in front of Tate. I bent and grabbed Jonas’s hand, my head filled with visions of Neeta and me playing tug of war with poor Jonas as the rope. I was about to let go and go after Neeta when Betty’s hand came up sharply and then down sharper, smacking Neeta’s forearm so hard the crack of it filled the air and she let Jonas go, emitting her own surprised, pained cry. I carefully pulled him to me and once I had him, I wrapped my arm around him again and stepped out of reach, twisting my body to shield Jonas as Neeta made another lunge but Betty got in her way.

“Step back, bitch!” Neeta shrieked at Betty.

“Honestly, Neeta? Is this how you want your son to remember you? Behavin’ like this?” Betty shook her head and continued, “Your mother must be rollin’ in her grave,” she said softly, Neeta’s face went slack and she stepped back as if she’d been struck. “Thank the good Lord, praise thank him, she never lived to see what you’ve become.”

“I can’t believe you’d say that to me,” Neeta whispered.

“And I can’t believe I just watched you handle your boy like that,” Betty returned. “Brenda was a good girl. She loved her babies. She’d do anything for them. She’d do anything for you. One thing I know sure as certain, she’d never touch you like that and she’d fight to the death if she knew anyone had done that to you. Right now, I just know, she’s rollin’ in her grave.”

Betty didn’t wait for Neeta to reply. She turned to me.

“Get him inside, hon,” she prompted.

Far faster than before, I scuttled Jonas and me around Neeta and Betty, placing my body in a way that I was using it to shield Jonas from Neeta. Once clear, I rushed the both of us to our loungers. Jonas and I shoved our stuff in the bags I’d packed as I heard Tate talking to both Shambles and Ned. I was hefting a bag over my shoulder when the bag was caught at the handles. I whirled, ready to do battle if it was Neeta, only to see Tate had taken it from me. He grabbed my hand but his eyes were on Jonas. He jerked his head toward Ned and Betty’s, Jonas took off on a dash and Tate dragged me with him as we followed.

Ned was there before us and he let us in. We took turns in their bathroom, me first. I peeled off my suit and tugged on my underwear, jeans shorts and t-shirt even though my body was still clammy with wet. I yanked out my flip flops, shoved my feet in them and exited the bathroom only to have Tate, a hand gentle in his back, shove Jonas in.

“Quick, Bub,” he muttered, his hand on the doorknob.

Jonas nodded and Tate shut the door.



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