She stopped talking and Deke gritted his teeth, holding himself back, giving her space until it looked like she’d crumble under the weight of her words taking her back where she was just a few hours earlier with that fucking guy.
If she started to crumble, he’d go to her.
Just like Jussy, she pulled it together so he stood where he was.
“Jiggy assured me he’d talk her out of showing here, even on Sunday,” she continued. “Lacey’s a bona fide spitfire so he might or might not be able to do that. Mr. T, however,” she lifted her phone and shook it, “doesn’t get talked out of anything he doesn’t want to get talked out of. He’s texted that he’s already booked his flights and will be here early this evening in order to ‘oversee the investigation’…his words. I gave Chace a heads up about that too.”
It was awesome, though not surprising, she had people who cared so much about her.
And it would be interesting (read: funny) to watch Chace work under the thumb of whoever this Mr. T guy was.
Carefully, Deke noted, “You didn’t call your brother.”
“I don’t have a brother,” she shot back.
He only lifted his chin slightly and said softly, “Your call, gypsy.”
She looked away, swallowed like it was painful, Deke again beat back what seeing that made him feel then she looked back to him.
“Mr. T has also activated my publicist,” she shared. “I don’t use her often but she’s on retainer. She’s going to be contacting Chace in order to coordinate anything that needs to be done in case any of this leaks.”
“Chace promised me he’d keep a lid on it and the man’s a friend, Jussy. Know him well, through good times and seriously bad. So I can tell you he’s a damn fine man and a really good cop. He makes that promise, he’ll put all he’s got into keeping it,” he assured her.
“Good to know,” she mumbled.
Deke studied her, knowing from what he saw that Chace was pushy about the ice because her face was fucked up but the swelling wasn’t as bad as it could have been so it could have looked a helluva lot worse.
He just hoped it could have felt a helluva lot worse and now didn’t.
It was what was at her throat that made Deke’s gut burn.
Her voice was softer, beginning to tremble, when she told him something else he heard.
“I called Bianca. She didn’t pick up. Left a voicemail. Mr. T has taken over dealing with her parents. He doesn’t want me more upset than I already am. So he’s informing them about what happened.”
“Got another friend, also a good man and smart as a whip,” Deke said. “He’s got skills. He’s also got a business where he uses those skills and he’s got a team. You want, I’ll talk to Decker. He’ll find her for you.”
“Can you call him?” she asked, the good side of her face starting to dissolve, now that she had nothing to do opening it up for the weight of what had happened to come crushing down.
That was when Deke was done with leaning his hips into the counter.
He moved to her, wedged himself in beside her and pulled her into his arms.
That last, he didn’t need to do. She came out of her cross-legged position. Shifting to her hip, she fell to his side, landing with her chest to his as well as the healthy part of her face, snaking an arm around his stomach, pressing into him.
Only then did he answer her request.
“I’ll call him.”
“Thanks, Deke.”
He held her with one arm and carefully wound his other hand in her hair.
“You wanna tell me who this Mr. T guy is?” he asked.
“Mr. Thurston. Granddad’s manager. Dad’s manager. He was also my manager when I was more active, and still is, to tell the truth, even if he isn’t managing tours and making sure no one fucks me over.” He felt her let out a big breath before she continued, “He’s a good guy. A member of the family now. Though he isn’t demonstrative. All business, always has been. I still think he’d push me out from the front of a speeding train even if it meant he took that hit.”
“Good you got that, Jussy. All that you got,” he told her.
“I know,” she replied, like she totally did.
He gave her next what he needed to give her so she could mull it over as shit calmed down and stuff started fucking with her head.
“Chace wants me to talk to you about Victims Assistance. Early for you, baby, but puttin’ that in your head. You need it there to know, things start fuckin’ with you, we make a call and we’ll get you some help.”
“Thanks again, Deke.”
“Now, want you to quit talkin’,” he said. “You need to rest your throat. Also gonna put you to bed because you just plain need some rest.”
He felt her cheek slide on his chest and he tipped his chin down to catch her eyes.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Try.”
“I just drank two cups of not the greatest but very strong coffee,” she told him.
He shot her a grin. “I know my gypsy’s feelin’ better, she’s givin’ me shit about my coffee.”
“I’m going to the mall first chance I get and getting you your own four-cup Mr. Coffee. No coffee drinker should drink instant.”
“I like it.”
“It’s awful.”
“It’s coffee.”
“It’s awful coffee.”