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She nods. “Blanche was her primary caregiver.”
“She’s in her eighties!”
“Times have been tough, Cody.” She taps my forearm. “They couldn’t afford a nurse.”
My mouth tightens at the silent prompt. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“They’re a stubborn bunch. That damn fool husband of hers, prouder than a peacock and with less sense, outright turned away the nurse your brother tried to hire.
“This can’t go on. She’s deteriorated so much this past year. Anything could happen to her. Especially with those damn bikers roaming around. If sheiswalking from their ranch and into town, then who knows who could pick her up along the way!”
“Yeah,” I admit gruffly, wishing I could alleviate her fears, but I can’t.
It’s not like the Rabid Wolves are known for being kind to the vulnerable.
“I’d better get her home.”
Mary dips her chin, and I wave at the gathered customers, who watch us as we set off.
Elena chatters to herself, mumbling and whispering, but she isn’t agitated.
“Your nonna was friends with Blanche, wasn’t she?” I ask, studying Tee in the rearview mirror.
“Was?Is,” Tee corrects, all without looking at me. Fuck. “They’re the remaining few of the old guard. Most of the men of their generation have passed.”
“Has she said anything about Blanche’s injuries?”
“Only that she’s not doing so well being bedridden. But who would be?”
There’s no denying that. Hell, I fucking hated being trapped on a mattress and I was only there for a short time.
Halfway through the ride, Elena’s whispers become shouts, and Tee immediately picks up on her humming and instantly, it soothes Elena.
I share a look with her in the rearview mirror, not only grateful for her presence but that she actually catches my eye as I ask, “Do you have any music they could use? Maybe your songs would soothe her.”I know they soothe me.
She nods and goes so far as to take Elena into her arms when Elena slumps against her.
I grit my teeth at the sight, not wanting to admit to myself how precious these two women in the back of my cruiser are when I’ve treated them worse than anyone.
Finally, we make it to the Frobishers and find chaos.
All the trucks are out in the front of the house and the tires have been slashed.
Though the family appears to be in the process of changing them, I can’t imagine they have that many spares.
When we pull up a couple feet away, Bast runs over to us, yelling, “You have to help us find Mom!”
“She’s in the back of the vehicle,” I inform him, aware that those are the first words we’ve spoken to one another in too long.
His relief is instantaneous and visible—more than I’m used to with my stoic bullshitter of a best friend. Dragging open the back door, he drops to a crouch beside the seat. “Mom, are you all right?”
She breaks his grip when he holds her hands. “Get away from me. Cody, they’re trying to lock me up again! Stop them, please. They’re monsters!”
Her sobs hurt like well-aimed knives being stabbed into my abdomen, but that’s nothing to Bast, whose eyes clench closed as if she sucker punched him.
“Everything’s okay, Elena,” I appease, but it doesn’t work.
“You’re just as bad,” she wails. “You all want to lock me up!”