Page 70 of Tone Deaf

“I lead,” I tell Pen, and with another nod, we head to the door of the trailer.

We creep up to the small porch, where the aluminum frame of a screen door is sagging wide open, its mesh material long gone. As my foot lands on the step, the inner door flies open and Brian, with Callum in his arms, comes hurrying out of the trailer.Shit! Brian must have been the smaller man dragged in.

“Take him,” Brian hisses as he stands Callum in front of me. I glance down at Callum, whose wrists and ankles are bound, and wrap my left arm around him to hold him upright.

“Brian,” Callum pleads. “Don’t go back inside.”

“If I don’t kill him, he’ll come after you again,” Brian says as he turns around to head back in, but Rick is standing right in the threshold, a gun in his hand. He’s aiming at our little group, although I’m not sure who his target is—Callum, Pen, me, or Brian.

“Rick,” I begin to say, but the bastard pulls the trigger twice before I finish his name.

Brian screams, leaps to stand in front of Callum, and both bullets hit the man in the chest.

“Dad,” Callum cries out. But my focus is on Rick. I pull the trigger on my gun and hit him dead center in the chest, while Pen shoots him in the head.

And then chaos reigns as we are surrounded by feds and marshals.

Chapter Thirty

Callum

It’s been two weeks since the shootout happened in the trailer park. I will never forget it. What surprises me the most is that I haven’t had any nightmares.

Despite the fear of being killed, seeing Rick shoot Jordan point blank right in front of me, watching the fight between Rick and the two goons, and the shock of seeing my father there, I’ve been able to sleep. I’m not even having nightmares any longer about the attack in Evergreen.

I believe that is because of what my father did for me. He saved me. Brian literally gave his life for mine, and that knowledge seems to have healed my wounds and traumas. He might not have been the best father growing up, but he proved to me that he loved me.

Today was his funeral. We buried him at Queen of Heavens cemetery. During the graveside service, my mother stood on my right, Pen was on my left, and Dom stood behind Pen and me. My best friends were there, too, of course, as were Tobias, John,Fig, Dante and Dean, along with the rest of Harper Security. I was surprised to see Lyric there too.

Ron couldn’t come, but Dean hugged my mother and then—awkwardly, me on Ron’s behalf. I was glad Ron decided to conserve his strength and not make the trip to Chicago. The day was a hot one, and Dean was busy helping Dante, whose four-inch heels kept sinking into the plush grass of the cemetery.

With all the people who mean so much to me there, I was able to get through the day and support my mother. Her friends had also arranged a lovely reception for us, where we could share memories of the times when Brian was a good father and a wonderful husband.

We took my mother back to her house and then grabbed our bags. Her best friend was staying with her tonight since Dom, Pen and I had decided we’d stay at a hotel. We needed the alone time together.

Though, it has been a whirlwind. We’d each been debriefed separately, Dom multiple times. They’d had to do an autopsy on Brian to determine whose bullets had killed him, and then there was the rigamarole of getting his body from California to Chicago and planning the funeral. Dom’s friend from Chicago Sentinel had brought Mum to us in California, where I let her fuss over me for a few days as a distraction from the shit with Brian—she went into full Mama Bear mode when she learned I’d taken another hit to my concussed head.

I went back to Evergreen by myself to grab the things I’d left behind when we fled and to put the house on the market, something I felt I had to do for closure.

With everything going on, I’d barely seen Dom and Pen. We’d texted and called each other, but what we really need to say can only be said in person. There’s so much we have to unpack: what happened from the time I was attacked in Evergreen, thearguments between Pen and Dom, and then the big unknown—where we three stand in the relationship.

Now, as we position ourselves in different parts of the hotel room, silence fills the space.

I glance at Pen first. His arms are folded across his chest and his attention is to the ceiling. Then I look at Dom, whose posture mirrors Pen’s, except his eyes are on the floor.

“For fuck’s sake. Someone talk,” I say from my perch on the bed.

Both men look at me at the same time, but neither of them says anything.

“You know what? I’m leaving. I had a crappy day and watching both of you Debbie-downers makes me feel even more unhappy.” I get up from the bed, grab my overnight bag and head to the door.

I don’t make it four steps before thick arms wrap around me from behind. “I’m sorry,” Dom says.

“I’m not the one you should say sorry to,” I reply over my shoulder.

“Babe, we talked,” Pen says, his hand cupping my face. “Dom apologized many times. And he will keep apologizing until I say otherwise.” A small smirk slides across his face.

“Then what’s with the silence?” I demand. “I thought you two were working things out, but right now you aren’t acting any differently than you were back at Tobias’s lake house.”