Page 76 of Talk to Me

Blowing out a breath, I locked my gaze on hers. Charm wouldn’t work here. Nor would brow beating. We had to keep this as logical and precise as possible.

The devil, as it were, was always in the detail.

“We came looking for you because you’ve always been there. When I needed you, you always answered. When I wanted a way out, you found it. When I needed a trace, you dug up the information. You are always there for us, no matter what.”

“Then you weren’t,” McQuade stated, the gruffness seemed less sharp now as though he’d sanded it down just for her. “You weren’t and I had to know why. I had to know you were alright.”

“Same,” I promised. “So you don’t have to ask us. We’re here. You know what we can do. Use us. Use our skills. Put us to work, Patch. Whether you are Fallon or not, or even want to tell us why or what, we’re here now. We’re not going anywhere. Use us.”

“Yes,” Remy said slowly. “Talk to us.”

Chapter

Twenty-Four

PATCH

Despite my exhaustion, sleep proved elusive. Instead, my thoughts were a whirlwind that circled back on itself over and over. As much as I wanted to trust Remington, Locke, and McQuade, how could I involve them any deeper than they’d already gone?

They had no idea who was hunting me or, worse, why. The information might be useful, but it would only endanger them. Hadn’t they told me someone had gone gunning for them after they found my place?

The fact they’d come looking at all may have compromised them already. So what more harm could telling them have?

Around and around my thoughts went until even the idea of sleep became a distant memory. Analysis was what I’d done for years. Pull the problem apart, examine it closely, determine what actions can be taken and what should be done.

Even as I argued with myself about telling them, I had to acknowledge this could all be another layer of deception put into play by my captors. They’d tried everything else to break me. What could sting worse than bringing in “real” friends to “rescue” me?

Of course, I would trust them.

As soon as that idea tried to take purchase, I discarded it. First, I wouldn’t have labeled them as friends no matter how often we spoke. Second, if they’d cracked my systems enough to identify them as clients—well, chances were they’d have had enough information to get the answers they sought.

I’d given up a lot to…

I shuttled that thought to the side. Better to not even focus on it right now. The longer I lay here, the darker and more twisted the paths my thoughts traveled became. Sleep, no matter how vital, wasn’t coming.

Outside that door, three men waited for me and I needed to decide what the hell we were doing. Cutting them loose wasn’t an option. I wasn’t in any shape to do this on my own. Not yet.

Easing my way out of the bed, I was careful before I even put my feet down. They were going to hurt. The bandages helped. They helped a lot. But it didn’t change the fact that every part of my body was in pain of some kind.

Another reason I couldn’t rush through abandoning my rescuers. The fact I wanted to believe every word they said as well as wishing I could savor actually meeting them had nothing to do with it.

Yes, I could absolutely lie to myself.

The borrowed clothes were soft, but currently every part of my body was irritated so it wasn’t like it seemed to make much difference. Except… the clothes and the bandages and the food—they were all acts of kindness and care.

Something dreadfully lacking of late.

At the door, I debated attempting to go back to sleep one more time. Even as the thought crossed my mind, I discarded it. Without a decision, we were all in limbo. I’d been in purgatory for long enough that even this faintly improved state offered no real certainty.

Life, as my father used to tell me, offers you no promises. If you wanted something, you had to make it happen for yourself. That way, at least you knew you’d done everything possible if it didn’t work out.

There was an odd kind of comfort in that.

Trusting that wisdom, I opened the door. The light in the main room seemed almost too bright versus the darkness I’d been trying to rest in. The blur of motion said I’d snared all of their attention with my return.

Folding my arms, I leaned against the doorjamb. They came for me because I’d always been there for them, until I wasn’t. The revelation tore open old scars that had long since formed in the place where my friendships and family used to be.

Leaving my life as I had required severing all ties. I’d cut them, then cauterized the open wound their absence created. That scar tissue pulled taut as my links to these three men burrowed in.