Page 10 of Take Me to Church
And that could include Lydia.
“I know you believe that. And I want to believe it too.” I shake my head, knowing I’m letting her down. “But I have to hear from her.”
Lydia’s nostrils flare and her eyes narrow. “I told you I can’t find her. How in the hell am I supposed to have her tell you when I can’t even call her?”
“I know it’s hard but you have to be patient. Eventually she will be able to get in touch with you, and then we can move forward.” I know how difficult it is to wait when someone you love is suffering, but we have to do it. It’s simply not worth the risk.
Lydia lifts her chin, the tilt defiant as she stares me down. “Actually, I don’t need your help anymore. I found someone willing to get her out right now.”
I go still. “Who?” The kind of people willing to take a woman from her home, no questions asked, are the same kind of people who are willing to do just about anything. They’re not trying to rescue an abused woman or help save someone’s life. That’s not their goal.
Lydia lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Does it matter? They said they’ll get her and that’s all I care about.”
“That’s fucking kidnapping, Lydia. Do you know what kind of people are willing to kidnap a person?” She’s being reckless—risking her own safety—and I won’t let that happen. I know just how many dangerous people lurk in this town, most of them by name, and there’s no fucking way I’m letting a single one of them near her.
“I don’t care who they are or what it costs as long as they get my sister out of there.”
Now I’m really fucking pissed off. “What do you mean, what it costs?”
Lydia squares her shoulders, standing as tall as her slight frame will allow. “You know what? I’m done talking about this with you. You lost the right to have an opinion when you decided not to help me.” She steps around me, yanking open the door and rushing down the hall, walking away like she thinks I won’t chase her.
And I’m definitely fucking chasing her. She’s not going to be able to get rid of me until I find out exactly how deep she is into whatever scheme she believes will save her sister.
“We’re not done talking, Lydia.” I chase her down the hall, moving fast enough to cut her off before blocking the door to the bar with my body. “Who have you been talking to?”
The list of people her arrival in my life is forcing me to deal with seems to grow more every time I see her. First her dad and brother, and now whoever the fuck wants to charge her to kidnap her sister. “Tell me who.”
I know how to intimidate people. It’s not difficult. I’m bigger than just about everybody and twice as mean. Add in that I spent more than a few years behaving badly all over Memphis, and most people know not to cross me.
But this tiny bit of a woman isn’t scared of me in the slightest. Instead of giving me what I want she rolls her eyes. “Stop acting like this really matters to you.”
The comment is a punch to my gut. “This does really matter to me.”
Lydia stares me down, her voice surprisingly soft. “No, it doesn’t. If it mattered you would help me.”
I ignore the sudden urge to grab her and haul her out of this place. Lock her up until I find whoever she’s talking to and make it clear their services are no longer needed.
But that’s not an option—for a number of reasons—so I have to make her understand she’s being unreasonable. That I know what I’m talking about and she should trust me. “Have you ever helped someone escape an abusive relationship?”
She scoffs, laughing lightly as she sweeps one arm from her head to her toe. “I got myself out of there, didn’t I?”
“You know what I mean.” I step in her way as she tries to move around me. “Getting away from a family is a lot easier than getting away from an abusive man.”
Lydia’s eyes lift to mine. “What makes you think those aren’t the same thing?”
I open my mouth to argue before the words fully sink in.
Fuck.
She takes advantage of my reaction and quickly ducks around my side, disappearing through the swinging door behind me.
I rake one hand through my hair. Frustrated with myself. Frustrated with her.
And pissed as hell at whoever thinks they’re taking her money.
I slam my way through the door, intending to chase her down again, but Tate is right there waiting for me.
“Where in the hell do you think you’re going?” He grabs my arm and hauls me toward the stage. “We’re already behind because Simon is as fucking full of shit as you said he was. We don’t have time for you to go chasing after the first cute bartender you see.”
