Page 135 of Tate
Glo’s breath caught.What if you let God show up for you? Show you that you don’t have to do anything for Him to love you.
“In fact, he never left Nashville. I know, because Sly was watching him.”
Glo frowned. “Did you assign Sly to him?”
“Of course I did?—”
“I mean, in Vegas too?”
“Yes. Because, well, I had heard about his reputation. I wasn’t sure…”
“Where was Sly the night he was attacked?”
“I don’t know. I was on a flight from Pennsylvania that night. Sloan came in and told me about the attack. So I re-routed us.”
“Sloan was on the plane?”
Her mother sighed. “Yes. I didn’t want to…well, I wanted everything to progress between you two naturally…”
“When did Sloan find out about the attack?”
“Oh, let’s see. It was after eleven, I think.”
“11:00 East Coast time is only 8:00 p.m. in Vegas.”
Her mother just stared at her.
“Mother—we didn’t get attacked until nearly midnight. And you were there by morning.”
“Maybe I’m wrong about the time?—”
But something Tate had said…about Sloan and the Bratva… “Oh no!”
Glo scooped up the mic and headed out of the bathroom. Rags and Sly stood at the door.
She looked at Rags, then Sly, and took a chance. “Sly, where were you the night Tate and I were attacked in Vegas?”
Sly glanced at her mother, now following her from the bathroom, then back to her. “I’m sorry ma’am…I was—” He shook his head. “I was gambling. The show was over, and I thought you were tucked in for the night.” He appeared distraught. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I should have been there. I checked in with Sloan, and he asked me where you were staying. I told him I thought you were safe—the Bellagio has top-notch security. He agreed and gave me the night off. If I’d known…” He wore a tight ball of agony on his face.
Glo looked at her mother.
“Gloria—”
“I have to apologize, Mother. I thought it was you.”
Her mother frowned.
“I couldn’t figure out how the Bratva might have found Tate—and I…I suspected you. But I didn’t want to.”
Her mother’s mouth tightened. “It was Sloan. He had the connections and your location.” She had gone white. “He knew I didn’t like Tate, but I never thought…oh my…”
“I’ll find him, ma’am,” Rags said, and his expression looked very much like Tate’s when he’d told her he’d come back to her.
Promises. Unspoken, but just as binding.
Tate. The bomb. She probably wore questions in her eyes because her mother said, “What’s happening, Sly?”
“Apparently, they’ve diffused the timer, ma’am, and security is searching the building.”
