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“Fine. Worried. They’ll be there once they’re done.”

“Okay. Did Chip see the guy again?” He knew the answer, but he had to ask.

“No, but he’s a little pissed at me. How’s Dalton?”

“In surgery.” The lung had been collapsing, and they were gonna try some kind of repair to the wall between the body and lung by tube if they could. A lot of it had just been words at that point.

“I’m praying. We all are. You need me to come up or bring Miss Deb after the show is done?”

“Can you bring my truck up? I don’t like us all being stranded.” Buick was a good man.

“Totally. I’ll make sure y’all are set up.”

“Thanks, buddy. I owe you.”

“Tell that to your twin. We’ll see what he says.”

“I will.” Tank hung up, and he started pacing again.

Dustin was sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, face pale. It was fucking creepy. He wasn’t sure whether or not Dustin was trying to give Dalton energy, or if he was communing, or what. It sure didn’t help his anxiety one bit.

“Dustin, man? Can you talk to me? Are you okay?” He sat down with a plop.

“I’m just…. I want to know he’s okay, you know?”

“I know. I get it. We’re action types.” He gave Dustin the best smile he had at the moment. “We want to fix it.”

“Need to. I totally need to.” Dustin’s blue eyes burned in his head. “I’m going to kill him.”

“I would let you. Anyone else, including Deb, and I would tell them to wait in line.” He wanted Dustin to understand that he got it. Twins were special. Came from the same egg, those two. He couldn’t and wouldn’t fight that.

“Yeah. Yeah, he tried to break… us.” Dustin began to shake, tiny little tremors that hurt Tank’s soul.

He took Dustin’s hand, because the man needed contact. Reassurance. “He’s not gonna win.”

“No. No, he isn’t. Not then. Not now. Not tomorrow.”

“Nope. Dalton is strong, and he’s got us.” Rocket was going to pay no matter what, but that could wait.

Dustin nodded and sighed as his phone started to ring again. “Everyone is going to show up like avenging angels. Rocket’s never going to be able to show his face at a rodeo again.”

“Good. I want more, though. I want him in jail or—” He waved a hand, and Dustin nodded before answering his phone.

“Yeah, Pops? Yeah, just the go bag in my truck. Is someone dealing with the horses? The babies? Well, I know, but…. Okay. Okay, just come on. Bring me a Coke. Dr Pepper.” Dustin looked over. “Tank, you want anything?”

“Same for me, please.” Tank’s stomach was in knots, but he knew a fizzy drink would help.

“Two of those, please. We’re in the surgery waiting room deal. Thanks, Pops. Love you too.” Dustin hung up. “Momma and Pops are at the rodeo grounds. They say Buick will bring your truck, and they’ll bring Deb.” Then he got a wild-eyed look. “The babies are settling everything down.”

Tank blinked. “Trial by fire, huh? The boys will help.” His bullfighters knew the ins and outs of the show.

“It’s not like they haven’t seen it all their lives, I guess.”

“They got to grow up sometime.”

They looked at each other grimly, then snorted at the same time.

“They’re Jakobys,” Tank said. “They’ll be fine.”