“Yo, Jace, bro, you still with me here?” Jared calls, making me jerk back to the here and now just as Trace and the other women come skipping out of the salon.
“Yeah, sorry, just thinking.”
Trace hugs them both and they spend a few minutes talking animatedly before Ronny and Paulie climb into Ronny’s car. Trace makes her way to her own ride, and the three of them pull out, leaving in opposite directions.
“See! I told you something wasn’t right. I’ll kill whoever did that.” Jared starts rambling and it takes me a while to understand what this latest rant is about.
Jared is usually not the chattiest asshole on the toilet seat, so having him just blurt stuff out that doesn’t pertain to what we’re doing here is definitely amusing, not to mention the reason he’s so bent out of shape right now.
“Calm down, Wolverine. The woman had her hair trimmed. She didn’t shave half of it off and dye it pink.” I laugh, watching Trace’s car till it turns the corner on Main and drives out of sight.
“I told her not to cut her Goddamned hair when Ronny mentioned it a week ago.”
And there you have it. Jared is nuts, I’m headed that way thanks to Trace and this whole wedding thing she sprang on me, and Miah and the others are probably already inmates at the loony farm.
Jared leaves without taking a bite of his lunch and storms out with an expression that makes even my balls shrink in terror, and I shake my head with a sigh and a grunt to the cosmos.
Thanks, man, thanks a lot for landing all this shit on my lap in the same week as the anniversary of my mother’s death.
This is all just Goddamned great, I think, rising to leave and actually go get some work done instead of following Trace home and watching her like a creeper.
Not that I wouldn’t, but I really do have few things to look into before I carry out the plans I’ve made for her.
***
“Jason Antonio Lane, what the hell do you think you’re doing, young man?”
I cringe and look up from the bed where I’ve set up some restraints and made sure that the length is perfect for maximum comfort. So fucking what if the only plan I’ve come up with yet is to kidnap my girl and keep her here till this whole mess blows over. It’s not my most original plan, but it worked for Wyatt and Ellie, and shit, I have nothing else to go on here.
I know it’s extreme and nuts, and believe me, I’ve done nothing but think about how reprehensible my plans are all freaking day since leaving that diner.
But it’s the only way I can think of to get Trace here and keep her safe and as far away from that whack job Ronny as humanly possible.
“Jason.”
Ma only gets that tone and uses my full name when she’s mad, and boy do I hate seeing Ma mad, because as sweet as she looks and is most of the time, the woman has a tongue as sharp as a freaking razor and never fails to use it when riled.
And trust me, she’s riled from finding me tying restraints to my bed like some sicko getting ready to kidnap his girl and…tie her to his bed.
“This isn’t what it looks like, Ma. I swear,” I mutter, swallowing when she narrows her eyes and pads farther into the room, taking a long slow look at the restraints and the bottled water and Tylenol sitting on the nightstand.
“Jason,” she starts slowly, trying her best to remain calm. “Why does it look like you’re planning to kidnap someone and tie them to your bed? And by that, I mean why are you planning to kidnap Tracy and tie her to your bed?!”
My hands come up in surrender and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from babbling like a damn little boy who just got caught raiding the cookie jar.
“Now, Ma, just listen, okay? I, uh, see the thing is…Tracy is engaged and she’s been hanging around with Ronny and Paulie, and Aunt Cleo was just found in her bed after someone shot her up with something, and I just can’t leave Trace out there to get hurt or worse, run off and get married to some guy who seems to be really nice but has to have something wrong with him to be in Senator Mayfield’s pocket.”
I shudder and wince when she narrows one eye at me and looks back at the bed with a frown.
“Your situation is nothing like Wyatt and Ellie’s, and I see no reason for you to be planning something this drastic, Jason Lane.”
“But Ma…”
She sniffs and looks down her nose at me the way she used to when she’d catch me and Jared surfing the net for porn before Pop put one of those restrictions on every terminal in the house and almost yelled to death.
“Really, Jason, be more creative than this, darling. Why don’t you tell me everything and let Mama help you with your troubles.”