“Callin’ Wood to come get you, take your ass wherever he wants but you’re leavin’ here and you’re not comin’ back. You come back, I call the cops. I’m not steppin’ out on this deck again when your feet are on it,” Tate finished with her and looked down at me. “Babe, go to her car, she left her keys in the ignition. Get ‘em, yeah?”

I nodded, let him go and moved away.

Neeta didn’t move a muscle to stop me. By the time I got to her car, pulled the key out of the ignition, figured out how to turn off the headlights, closed the door and returned to the deck, Tate was there, his phone to his ear. Neeta was now sitting on the deck, her knees curled into her chest, her arms wrapped around, the picture of pathetic but, studying her, I could call up not even a hint of compassion.

“Wood?” Tate said into the phone. “Sorry, bud, but Neeta’s at my place. She’s smashed and drove her car up here. I want her gone. Either you get her or I call the Station. You comin’?” He paused and held his hand out to me for the keys. I dropped them in his hand as he said, “Right. Later.” He flipped his phone closed, his arm curled around me again, bringing my front to his side but his eyes went down to Neeta. “Wood’ll be here to take care of your shit… again.”

“Don’t got nothin’,” she told her knees, beginning to rock.

I wanted to feel sorry for her, even tried to call it up, but after what she did that day, the other night and that Tate and I were standing out in the dark on his deck dealing with her again, I couldn’t.

Therefore, I said to her, “That’s because you threw it all away.”

She didn’t even look up at me when she repeated, “Don’t got nothin’.”

I opened my mouth to repeat myself too but Tate’s arm gave me a squeeze.

“Gonna be a bit before Wood gets here, Ace, and seen this before. Save yourself the hassle of watchin’ her feel sorry for herself. Go to bed. I’ll be in after Wood gets here.”

I looked up at him, my arms around him getting tighter.

“I’ll stay with you,” I said.

“Ace, she’s gonna sit there, whine and convince herself life just sucks rather than her doin’ shit to make it suck. Trust me, it ain’t interesting.”

“I’ll stay with you,” I repeated.

“Baby –”

“Captain,” I cut him off and then used words he used on me. “Shut it.”

His mouth twitched then his arm curled me closer, he bent his head and he kissed me lightly.

“See you’re comin’ into your inner biker babe,” he muttered.

I smiled up at him. “Yes, well… I’m learning.”

“Then I’m f**ked,” he muttered teasingly.

“Mm. Maybe tomorrow,” I muttered back and he chuckled.

“That’s what I wanted from you,” Neeta whispered and both Tate and I looked down at her. “That’s all I ever wanted from you. Why couldn’t you be that way with me?”

“You missed it, Neet. Too focused on latchin’ onto my dick to lead me around by it, you missed it.”

“You never gave me that. It was always Tate and Neet, the wild ones,” she replied. “I thought you wanted it like that.”

“Like I said, you weren’t payin’ attention,” Tate returned.

Her eyes stayed locked on him then she turned her head away, pressed her cheek to her knee and kept rocking.

Tate and I stood quiet and holding each other. Wood showed and got his stumbling sister to his truck. He came back for the keys to her car which Tate gave to him.

He gave us both a chin lift, obviously a bit more than a little annoyed he was collecting Neeta in the middle of the night and not feeling in the mood to socialize.

He was walking away when Tate called him.

“Wood.”

Wood turned back.

“I shoulda let it go a long time ago and I didn’t,” Tate began and I pulled in a breath because I knew where he was leading with that introduction and I was happy he was doing it but I couldn’t believe he was doing it now. “Had to blame someone ‘cause I couldn’t blame myself for Dad leavin’ me the way he left me. Placed that shit on you. It was a dick thing to do.”

Wood stared at Tate and said not a word.

I held Tate tighter and Tate kept talking.

“Dad thought you were the shit. He wouldn’t have blamed you and he would be pissed as hell knowin’ I did.”

Without a word, Wood looked away and started to turn away.

“Wood,” Tate called and Wood stopped moving, hesitated and turned back. “Thanks for your help today, bud.”

Wood stared at him, his eyes flashed to me and then back to Tate.

“She a miracle worker?” he asked and I blinked, not understanding the question.

“Yeah,” Tate answered immediately, clearly understanding it.

Wood stayed silent a moment then suggested, “Maybe you’ll give it a coupla weeks before you two invite me over to a barbeque.”

“We can do that,” Tate replied and my eyes were on Wood but I could tell by Tate’s voice he was smiling.

“Right,” Wood muttered and turned again but was stopped again when Tate spoke.

“Jonas’ll be here. We have a barbeque –”

Wood started walking but he looked over his shoulder. “Then I’ll be here.” He faced forward again and I heard him say quietly, “Not just for Jonas.”

“Laurie?” Tate called to his back, it was a question for Wood not Tate addressing me.

“She’s got great f**kin’ legs, man,” Wood called back. “Not havin’ ‘em wrapped around my back don’t mean I can’t appreciate ‘em as close as I can get.”

Tate chuckled. Wood jogged down the steps and swung into his truck. I was still confused.

We watched Wood turn around in the drive and pull out. When his brake lights faded to normal and he took the turn out of the drive, I looked up at Tate.

“What was that all about?”

Tate turned me to the door. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are things okay with Wood?” I asked as he pulled open the door.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“So that was it? Years of bad blood and you two talk about my legs –?”