Sneak Attack (Tapped Out 2)

Had he been dealing with this since childhood? Since a few years ago? Maybe it didn’t matter that I didn’t have all the particulars. What I did know was that I was supposed to be in his corner.

To be one hundred percent honest, no, I didn’t relish being part of any confrontations with his parents. They didn’t like me much under the best of circumstances. But it was my job. Even with all the basic relationship lessons I’d missed, I’d figured out that much. I’d given up the freedom to split when I’d told him I would be around for the long haul.

The sensation of my skin itching on the inside would go away if I just ignored it long enough.

Looks like all the therapy is working. Now you know exactly how fucked up you are, even if you can’t fix it.

Nope. I wasn’t going there. I wasn’t going to let something he’d said in the heat of the moment distract me from what was important. Tray had been by my side, and I would be by his, whether or not he wanted me there.

I finished pouring beer from the tap and slung it in the general direction of the patron who had ordered it before heading into the nearest corner to take my call. Hoping to see Tray’s name on the readout, I frowned when I saw it was my sister. “Car?” I said, pressing a finger to my other ear to block out the bar noises. “What’s up?”

“You need to come home.”

Dread curdled in my belly like spoiled milk and foamed out of my mouth on a tide of words I couldn’t hold back. “What? Why? What happened? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Carly snapped. “Way to go to accuse your sister. Your sister who is trying to help you.”

How was I supposed to deal with all this emotional crap at one time? I was saving up my nice purple jelly beans to dispense to Tray. All that was left for Car were the bitchy orange ones. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m working, and—”

“Tray’s gone.”

My eyes narrowed until the corkboard on the wall covered with flyers and notices of local events whittled away to three words that seemed to pulse in time with my now throbbing head.

Live nude girls.

Better than dead nude girls, I supposed.

“Gone where?” I heard myself ask from a distance, while some remote part of my brain mulled over the concept of live nude girls vs. dead ones.

“How am I supposed to know? He slammed out of here after getting into it with his mother. He took his car keys. When I chased after him, he shook me off. He wouldn’t speak to me, Ame.”

Ame. Like a boomerang, I snapped back into my life. That blast from the past always served as a damn quick snap to the skin, better than any rubber band. Hell, it was a damn two-by-four between the eyes.

Not everyone had more than one first name. Their given name, and the one they’d taken to try to become someone else.

“Did you see where he went?” I asked, juggling my cell between my ear and my shoulder as I flipped up the pass-through and walked behind the bar. Constance snarled something about “leisurely breaks” but I ignored her as I headed into the back to retrieve my stuff. I’d suspected I would need to leave quickly, so I’d stashed my stuff on the nearest shelf. Not like I owned much worth stealing anyway. I didn’t have Tray’s leather bomber jacket with me this time of year. It was chillier than normal for September, but not anywhere close to leather jacket chilly.

Though I would’ve appreciated all that warmth right now. Maybe then I wouldn’t be a deep breath away from a full-body shaking fit.

“No, I didn’t. He just took off. I waited a couple of hours to see if he’d show up again, but

he hasn’t.” She swallowed audibly. “He never leaves without telling us where he’s going or when he’ll be back.”

That small note of fear reverberated in the pit of my stomach. Carly had grown attached to Tray since we’d been together, and hearing the thread of worry in her voice drove that point home. She’d lost both parents too young, three years younger than I had, and our Aunt Patty hadn’t been a stellar replacement. Tray’s presence in her life probably provided a stabilizing influence.

And he’d just pounded that stabilization to shreds, even if he hadn’t meant to.

“I’ll find him,” I said, making my voice stronger than it had any right to be considering my knees were wobbling.

“How? You have no idea where he went. His mom’s worried too.”

Oh Lord. Did that mean she was still at my apartment? Not that I should be upset about that fact. Good relationship Mia would be happy for the opportunity to grow closer to the woman who studied my scuffed sneakers as if she expected a cockroach to crawl out of the hole near the toe.

Good relationship Mia could go fuck herself until further notice, because I couldn’t textbook this. I had to go with my gut.

God help Tray and me both.

“Is she still there?” I asked, tugging off my apron and tossing it in my backpack to join Tray’s.