Page 94 of Really Truly Yours
Gray leaves my side and wraps his sister-in-law in a hug. “You can’t let yourself think that. He’s solid, Avery. We know that. Right?”
I think Gray intended the right to be rhetorical, but a wobble whispers doubt.
She nods into his chest, clutching his arms, and sobs at full power.
“You want me to go look for him, Aves?”
She pushes away and flings pleading eyes up. “Yes. Please, yes, Gray!”
“Okay, Avery.” Gently extricating himself, he looks at me. “Sydnee…”
I wave my hand. “Go. This is important.” My stomach bunches like it’s been clamped into a vise. Where does he think he’ll search? From what he told me about Tripp’s work and how his brother looked when he left this morning, I can conjure images of the sorts of places he might need to seek out. I’ve been in a couple of those back when Mom left us and Dad went in search of her. Dragged me and Max along, for some bizarre and ill-conceived reason.
Gray’s mouth crooks as he thinks. “You’re gonna have to tell me where to start, Avery. I haven’t got a clue.”
“I know! There’s this old motel on the edge of town. Right outside the city limits. The Arms.”
I zone, because, even though this isn’t my town, I’ve heard of the place. Max and his friends opened my eyes to things I’d otherwise never have known.
When I tune back in, Gray’s hand is on my arm. “I’m sorry, Sydnee. I’ll try not to be too long. Just…pray.”
I lay my hand over his. “Of course.”
His fingers press into my bicep. “That means a lot tonight.”
Avery and I follow him to the entryway. His hand is on the knob when the right side of the heavy double doors swings inward. Tripp, grungy, smoky, and carrying the sour-sweet scent of hard liquor walks in. He stops short at the sight of us all.
A wrenching sob busts from Avery’s throat. She launches herself at her husband. He holds her but watches Gray and me over her shoulder. His stare is disconcerting and dark. “What’s going on here?”
Grayson plants his hands at the waist of his jeans. “Your wife has been worried about you, Tripp.”
His eyes get black. He pats Avery’s shoulder and untangles from her embrace.
She doesn’t let go. “Gray was about to go look for you, honey.”
Those ebony eyes sweep to his brother. “Look for me? I told you, both of you. I was working.”
She thumbs a couple of tears. “That was hours ago. You were upset, and you left like this.” Her hand waves from his grungy shirt to his holey jeans and black boots. And, oh, those tattoos. Tripp Walker’s artwork takes the cake, even amongst my circles.
Circles I had no choice but to learn more about than I ever wanted.
Gray’s scary and mercurial brother spins and stalks toward the staircase, muttering. “Not what I need right now...”
My fingers fly to my mouth at the sight of a black handgun tucked into his waistband.
He stops with a boot on the first step and fake salutes. “’Night, all.”
There’s nothing remotely friendly about the dismissal.
Chapter 20
Sydnee
In addition to the father I had once upon a time, I have two brothers.
Which in no way makes me an expert on men in general. Boyfriends? No. I learned early on to keep my distance from the species. Their presence added more negatives than value.
Another thing I learned was that men become impossibly difficult to read and even less easy to deal with when they’re upset. The line between troubled and angry is vague and ever-shifting, one often leading to the other. When either called in our household, I retreated to my safe space.