Page 6 of Tate (The Montana Marshalls #2)

Glo moved away, her arms folded across her chest as the doctor gloved up, then probed Tate’s neck. Knox, too, had stepped back, allowing the nurse to take Tate’s blood pressure.

“I think the swelling has gone down sufficiently.” He turned to the visitors. “Can you step outside? Just in case he vomits.”

Glo felt like vomiting herself as she nodded. “I’ll be right back, Tate.” She met his eyes, then took a breath and exited the room.

Knox and Kelsey followed her into the hallway.

Glo leaned against the wall, her entire body vibrating.

“You need sleep,” Kelsey said.

“He’ll be okay, Glo,” Knox said and put one of his warm hands on her shoulder.

She nodded but sank down onto the floor. Sighed. “I have to fire him.”

A pause, then, “What?” Kelsey crouched before her. “Why?”

Glo raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. I get it. But…we can’t go to the CMGs without Tate.”

“Then we don’t go.”

Kelsey considered her, her mouth tight. She scooted beside Glo and leaned her head on her shoulder. “Maybe we need a break. I know we just landed the Nbr-X tour, but Knox was talking with his friend Rafe, who is on the board, and given last night’s events?—”

“The one that included your stalker trying to kill you?”

Kelsey sat up, glanced at Knox, who’d given her a grim look. “Yeah. That. And the rest of it—the past six weeks of shaking off the bombing in San Antonio, not to mention the news about the threats from the Bryant League against you and your mother.”

Yeah. Some ultra-left radical group wanted to keep her moderate-leaning mother from running for president. Clearly, they didn’t know Reba Jackson like Glo did.

Nothing ignited a fire under her mother more than controversy and opposition. It was akin to waving a red flag in front of a bull.

“Knox and I were thinking that maybe we’d ask Nbr-X to postpone our contract for six months. Give us all a chance to breathe. Maybe write some songs, get into the studio and record that album we’ve been talking about.”

It sounded like a good idea. “Will you take Tate back to the Marshall Triple M?” Glo asked. The Marshall family’s spread in west-central Montana would be the perfect place for him to find his feet again, maybe escape the haunted expression in his eyes.

At least it had been for Kelsey.

“Yeah, if that’s what he wants. You could come with us,” Knox said.

“She’s coming home with me.”

Oh hallelujah, Senator Jackson was in the building. Glo didn’t even start with surprise, not one question entering her mind at how her mother might have not only found out about Tate’s attack but landed here within twelve hours to rescue her. In other words, take over her life.

She was even dressed as the shining knight, in an all-white pantsuit, her amber red hair down around her collar, tall and striking, and who would ever dare to argue with the powerful and beautiful Reba Jackson?

Glo pushed to her feet. “Mother. Hi.”

Reba stopped ten feet away, her mouth opening. “Oh my…what happened ?”

Oh. Glo’s hand nearly went to the bruise on her face, the blackened eye where Slava had boxed her. “It looks worse than it is.”

“How could it?” Reba advanced to her and pulled her daughter to herself, holding her so tight Glo nearly believed it was authentic.

Wanted to, really, because she was so tired and overwhelmed, and wouldn’t it be nice if her mother had actually shown up because she was worried for Glo?

But her mother always, without exception, had a hidden agenda.

Glo hugged her back because she was in the middle of the hallway, in semipublic view, and she didn’t need to alert Knox to their family’s dysfunction.

The little performance wasn’t fooling Kelsey for a moment, however, and out of the edge of her periphery, Glo saw Kelsey rise. Raise an eyebrow.

Reba held her daughter at arm’s length. Scrutinized the wound. Shook her head. “I just knew something like this would happen. What, did he involve you in a barroom brawl?”

Glo’s eyes widened. “No. He was attacked. In our suite.” And she didn’t bother to explain how the suite wasn’t actually theirs and, oh, never mind. The important fact here was, “This wasn’t Tate’s fault.”

“Sure it wasn’t.” Reba looked past Glo down the hall, and Glo followed her glance to her mother’s security boss whom she’d assigned to work with Tate at their last venue. That answered a few questions, at least.

“Well, how hurt is he?”

“Very hurt. He nearly died.”

Reba wore a face of dismal acceptance. “Well, now you know. He can’t keep you safe, and I’m not interested in watching my daughter get killed on his watch. You’ll need to fire him.”

How Glo hated it when she and her mother came to the same conclusion, even if it might be for different reasons. “I know.”

Reba blinked at her. “Good. Then I’ll send Sly to the hotel to gather your things and we’ll head back to Tennessee.”

“Tate’s not even out of the hospital yet. I may be firing him, but I’m not leaving him.”

“Yes, darling, you are.” Reba reached out and touched her face, a whisper over her bruise. “Tate is…well, he is very handsome, but I think we both know he isn’t good for you.”

Glo took a breath.

“You didn’t think I couldn’t see right through your reasons for keeping him on staff?”

Glo’s entire body turned to flame. Thanks, Mother.

“Listen. I know it’s hard, but this is for the best. And I need you at home. I have a very important fundraising event in three weeks, and I need you there.”

“Mother.”

“Your father is attending.”

Glo stared at her. “Really?”

Reba smiled, and it seemed touched with an authentic hint of warmth.

“I told you. We’re all in this together, right?”

Glo nodded, the old mantra fueled more by desire than truth. But it had held them together during countless campaign victories.

And one very painful loss.

“It’s just for a few weeks, honey. You and the Belles need a break anyway.”

“We’re up for an award at the CMGs,” Glo said and instantly felt thirteen. She wasn’t the girl who needed her mother’s approval anymore.

Still, the cracks of the past twelve hours healed, just a little with her mother’s congratulations. “You ladies can do anything you put your minds to.” She grinned at Kelsey.

Glo didn’t know why, but Reba had always held a special place for Kelsey in her heart. Maybe because she reminded her mother of Joy.

After all, both Kelsey and Joy had been fighters, even if one of them had lost her battle.

“We are thinking of postponing our contract with Nbr-X,” Kelsey said. The traitor.

“Then it’s settled.”

Glo drew in a breath. Yes. Settled. She didn’t have the energy to argue.

And Tate would be safe on his ranch.

She tightened her mouth but nodded.

The doctor came out of the room. “He’s awake and asking for you all.”

“Is he going to be okay, doc?” This from Knox, who’d been standing away, texting on his cell phone.

“Yeah. He’s tough. I didn’t know he was an ex-Ranger.”

It was news to her, too. Which showed her just how little she actually knew about Tate.

Knox nodded. “He’s been out for about five years.”

“I served with a number of Rangers during Operation Desert Shield. Those guys don’t know how to fail.”

“Let me talk to him alone,” she said to Knox.

He gave her a grim nod.

She pushed into the room, her throat thick.

Tate sat up in the bed, sipping on water. He set the cup on the tray when he saw her. His mouth cracked up into a wry smile. “How you doing, Fight Club?”

His tease bounced off her. She slid onto the bed, this time near his free hand. Took it in both hands and pulled it to her chest. “Tate, I…” She drew a breath, not sure how to tell him?—

His smile vanished. “Glo, first—I know I scared you. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry. I don’t know how Slava found me. I thought we’d be okay. That I could slip away without the Bratva knowing I’d been in town. I made a mistake. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Her eyes were filling, and he let her hand go, reached up and touched her cheek. “I hate seeing this bruise on you.”

She nodded. “Tate…this is bad.”

“I know, babe. But I’ll be okay and back to work in no time. I know we probably need to talk about that kiss…” And now he offered a dangerous, rakish smile, despite his injuries.

That kiss. Her gaze flickered down to his mouth, back to his eyes. No, no, no …

“Tate—”

“Okay, wait. Listen. I need to tell you—thanks for not leaving me. I know I kept yelling at you to run, but…you saved my life. Thank you for staying.”

She might be ill. Because she was going to run. Far and away.

Glo closed her eyes, tears cutting down her cheeks, and of course he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into the well of his chest, pocketing her right next to his beating heart.

Probably in the only place that wasn’t bruised.

Yet.

Tate was never letting Glo out of his arms again.

No, he was going to stay right here, clinging to her, holding her as she quietly fell apart on his chest.

He’d really scared her.

No, he’d scared them both, because everything inside him screamed when Slava slammed his fist into her face, and all Tate could think in that moment was what if Slava, after killing him, turned his fists on Glo?

What if he did to her what he’d done to Raquel?

Tate had lost his calm then, the ability to think through the scenario, find the advantage.

The panic had turned him desperate and helpless. He’d tossed the fight over in his head a thousand times on the way to the hospital, as he waited for surgery. Conjured up moves and angles and ways to take Slava down.

None of them included Knox intervening, but yeah, he’d never been so glad to see his brother than when Knox saved his life.

Of cours e Knox saved his life. Because that’s what Knox did. Showed up.

The guy was such a freakin’ hero.

But it seemed that Tate had gotten the girl anyway, because Glo lifted her head, her eyes reddened, her cheeks wet, and met his gaze.

He searched her face, longing to lean up and kiss her.

Second chances, right here in his arms.