“Yeah, I’ve heard that story,” Sawyer said with a long sigh. “I never met the guy Alexei talks about. I’ve only met the surly bastard who can’t stop punishing himself.”
“Why would he punish himself?”
Sawyer sent him the special look he always used when he thought Ty was a moron. “Seriously?”
He knew the story. He didn’t understand all of it though. “I know his partner betrayed him. Why would he punish himself for that? I don’t get it.”
“He blames himself. He should have seen what she was doing.”
“Not if she was good at her job.” He’d thought a lot about this. “I mean when you really think about it, she was a spy. A good spy tricks everyone around her.”
“Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends, man. All right, I’ll try to explain it to you. What if you found out Luce was tricking you all these years and using you?” Sawyer asked.
It was a ridiculous thought. “That would never happen.”
“But it happened to him,” Sawyer countered. “I assure you he thought that woman loved him. He thought he knew her. He thought he knew what his world was made of, thought he controlled it. And then he woke up and didn’t recognize a single thing about it. He discovered not only was he not in control, but he’d been controlled. That is why he punishes himself by living in a rattrap. That awful cabin of his is a prison, and I don’t know if he breaks out of it. I don’t know if that man has what it takes to do the hardest thing in the world.”
He didn’t like thinking about Michael in some prison. “What’s that?”
“Fucking forgive yourself,” Sawyer said in that low growl of his. “That’s what you can’t understand. You’ve never done something so bad you can’t figure out how to come back from it. For Novack it wasn’t something he did, but something he allowed to happen, and he can’t trust himself again. That’s precisely why I think he’s stayed away from Lucy. You’re giving him the chance to get close to her without having the responsibility of being the only one to take care of her.”
“Yes. That’s why it could work.”
“Or why it could go wrong, and you could end up being left behind. If he relaxes and lets his guard down, Lucy is going to get inside, and that girl is pure sunshine. She might be able to do what he can’t do on his own—get him to forgive himself. Once he does that, he’ll want to keep her.”
Sawyer could be a pessimist. “Or he could get better and go on with his life. Everyone wins.”
Sawyer patted his arm. “And that is why we’re friends. Because I cannot even think like that. You know if it all goes to hell, I’ll be there for you, right?”
“It doesn’t matter. He said no.” He would have to think this through. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe he should listen to Sawyer and try to be a little more patient.
The door slammed open and suddenly Sawyer had a massive gun in his hand, pointing it at the entryway.
Michael stood there, and if he was worried a six-and-a-half-foot dude was pointing a gun at him, he didn’t show it. He simply frowned Ty’s way.
“It won’t work, but I’ll try.”
Had he heard that right? “You’re in?”
Michael nodded, grunted, and then turned and walked out.
Ty sat there for a moment. “Should I go after him? Doesn’t he think we should talk? Plan a little?”
Sawyer slid the gun back into the holster he wore at the small of his back. He could be touchy, but then at one time he’d had a whole MC after him. “Absolutely not. That man has had enough stimulation for one night. I’m locking the door. Pour us another drink and I’ll tell you again how dumb this idea is.”
He might be right, but he also might be wrong. Sawyer knew a lot but he didn’t know everything, and he often took a pessimistic view of life.
This could work. And hey, if Michael Novack got a new lease on life, then he and Lucy would have done something good and they would remember the man fondly.
“You’re not going to listen to a word I say, are you?” Sawyer locked the door this time.
“Of course I am.” He would listen. Sort of.
But he knew this could work.
It had to because he worried this might be his very last shot.
Chapter Three
“So are we asking the new chick in? I’ve heard she’s shot more sons of bitches than all of us combined.” Callie had a big mug of coffee in front of her.
Lucy sat in Stella’s Café the following morning, her brain still working on what had happened the night before. She’d gotten very little sleep and still felt like she was strapped onto an emotional roller coaster. Why had Michael followed her home? She’d known his SUV had been the one behind Van’s Subaru. She’d also recognized Ty’s Jeep, but she knew why he’d followed her. Habit.