Boz turned eyes that were beginning to get red at him. “Say what?”

“Millie and me’ll take her in,” High offered.

“I got her. I’ll take a Claritin,” Boz said then muttered, “Or seven.”

“I’d put away my macramé, dear, but it’d take a year,” Essence said to Boz, clearly not having a problem with hosting a biker bodyguard. Also clearly deciding now was not the time to ask what the fuck was going on that bodies were being dumped outside her house necessitating her needing that bodyguard.

“I’ll be good,” Boz told her and looked to Rush. “But I gotta hit home. Get another gun. Some ammo. A few more knives.”

“And a boatload of Claritin,” Dog added.

“Jesus,” Eddie mumbled.

“And I want drive-bys,” Rush went on. “Chaos and cops. Boz’ll have Essence and the property, but I want to know if anyone has eyes on it and I want him to have backup.”

“You know, Rebel girl, I never thought I’d say this, but at this point, I’ll be happy for some attention from the fuzz,” Essence whispered to Rebel.

Rebel gave her a reassuring smile and touched her cheek then tipped her head back to look up at where Rush was standing right by where she was in the couch.

“Can we talk?”

He couldn’t read anything on her face, so he had no idea what this would bring, but he was in no mood for her to get stubborn or change her mind (again) and piss him off.

He still nodded.

She started to push up and he grabbed her hand to help her out of the couch.

He kept hold of her hand as he guided her to the door.

He did not miss his brothers catching Rebel’s hand held in his, particularly his father, but he ignored it and moved them into the foyer and out of eyeshot of the parlor.

Rush turned to her, boots to boots, and tipped his head down to catch her eyes.

Her head was back and she added a hand to his abs.

She also didn’t fuck around.

“I don’t want to be far away from Essence.”

This was not a surprise.

But it was a problem.

First, someone dangerous knew she was a player in this game and decided to make certain she knew she’d been made. So, she was absolutely not safe.

Second, he lived in Capitol Hill, Rebel lived in the Highlands, and that was not close.

Third, it was him that was going to make her safe. So she was going to be with him.

Fourth, her pad was not safe. It was tucked in an urban forest, and he wasn’t even sure Boz would have eyes on it from the house. He hadn’t noticed, but doubted, it had security. And even if he could be there with her, his place was a better bet because it wasn’t secluded, and he had a security system.

And last, Essence wasn’t coming with them because he not only intended to keep Rebel safe, he intended to get in her pants and he wasn’t hip on doing that with a seventy-three-year-old flower child down the hall.

“Boz’ll keep her safe,” he assured.

Rebel shoved in at his stomach. “But—”

He lifted his hand and wrapped his finger around the side of her neck, dipping his head so his face was closer to hers.

“Chaos has got her.”

She bit her lip, stared in his eyes, and nodded.

That was easy.

Thank fuck.

Rush felt him before he arrived, turned his head and saw his dad approaching.

So he dropped his hand from Rebel’s neck, but slid his other arm around her waist, pulling her front into the side of his front, his body partially turned toward Tack.

His father showing at a body dump that happened on the street outside his woman’s house, this was not the meet he would have picked between his girl and his dad.

But Rush had long since learned that life didn’t give you a lot of choice, so you just had to roll with it.

He glanced beyond Tack to see members of Chaos moving into the foyer and looked back when his father started speaking.

“Boz is takin’ off to get provisions. I’m gonna stay with Essence until he gets back,” Tack told him.

He knew Rebel found this acceptable when her body relaxed into his.

“Cool,” he muttered to his dad.

Tack took in the hold Rush had on the woman at his side then looked at Rebel. “Wish we’d met under better circumstances.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, and he felt her relaxation didn’t last long.

She was tightening up.

“Get that outta your head, darlin’,” Tack said quietly.

Rush looked from his dad down to Rebel.

Shit.

The heavy was hitting her face.

“Baby,” he whispered.

She tipped that face up to him.

“Harrietta,” she whispered back.

He turned so she was curled fully to his front.

“She was playin’ two dangerous men against the middle,” Rush reminded her. “She should have run a long time ago, honey. It’s not her fault she got dead. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t playing with fire.”

“It still sucks,” she replied.

She was not wrong.

“And they dumped her at Essence’s,” she continued.

That sucked too.

“This is good. It was a warning. And we’re gonna heed it,” he told her.

“But Essence didn’t need to see that. Be dragged into this,” she returned.

“I think Essence is a lot tougher than you know.”

“She thinks she’s a fairy. That is, when she’s not practicing to be a belly dancer.”

“She lives in the world she made up that helps her deal with the world as it really is. A world that a lot of the time really fuckin’ blows,” he retorted.

“I still wish she wasn’t dragged into this,” she murmured.

He lifted his free hand to cup her face and again dipped his head to hers.

“Baby, you can wish that all you want. It didn’t happen that way. It happened the way it happened. Now you just deal and move on. Yeah?”

Her eyes searched his before they slid away, she slumped into him, and muttered, “I suppose.”

He grinned at her.

His dad cleared his throat.

Rush dropped his hand from Rebel’s face as they both looked his way.

Rebel remained slumped into him, but Rush felt his throat get thick at the look on his father’s face.

He’d seen that look.

Once.

When his father had turned away from Tabby after he’d kissed her cheek at the altar and put her hand in Shy’s.

Rush shouldn’t be surprised it didn’t take long for his dad to get that look on his face.

He’d already shared he dug Rebel’s courage and show of loyalty. Also, it took Tack about a millisecond to read just about anyone, and Rebel wasn’t hiding the way she felt about Essence, the way she was with Hank and Eddie.

Or the way she was with Rush.

And she was a redhead.

But Rush couldn’t say it still didn’t feel good that his father read Rebel the same way he did.

More than a promise.

She was a keeper.

“I’m sorry, Mr. uh . . .” Rebel started.

“Tack, darlin’. I’m Tack,” his dad said to her.

“Tack,” she murmured timidly. “That was rude to get in our own conversation when you were standing there.”

“Shit’s extreme, girl. I get that,” Tack replied.

“It was still rude,” she muttered.

His father grinned at her then looked at Rush and got serious.

“We got a problem considering Benito’s big on sending messages and Chew never minded mess. This shit is either of their MOs.”

“I thought the same thing,” Rush told him.

“The description of the driver could be Chew, outside the age. And he had a way with hotwiring. If the car is stolen, though, it still could be either one.”

Rush nodded.

“Priority one is still finding Chew,” Tack declared.

“Agreed.”

“But I’m thinkin’ a sit down with Valenzuela is in order.”

Rush did not like that.

But his father wasn’t wrong.

When he repeated, “Agreed,” the word came out tighter.