Dangerous Melody by Dana Mentink Page A

me, you did a great job of it.” It wasn’t fair and he knew it, but there was no taking it back now.
    She glared at him. “I introduced them before I realized what kind of a man he was. Then I tried to steer her away from him, Tate. I did everything I could.”
    “You knew the truth about Bittman. Maria was just a kid. You didn’t try hard enough.”
    Fire sparked inher eyes. “I’m no substitute for her big brother, and you weren’t around. You can’t blame me for that.”
    He wanted to snap off an angry reply, to meet her challenge with one of his own, but he found there was nothing to say. He turned away, determined not to limp.
    “Tate, hold on,” she called after him, voice contrite. “I know you had your own problems.”
    The shame burned through hisgood sense. He’d take her anger, her disgust, any emotion at all, but not pity. He stopped and spoke to his boots. “I took pills, Steph. Let’s not soften it.”
    Her voice was soft. “You were in pain.”
    “Stop it.” He whirled on her. “You don’t need to make excuses for me. I’m clean now. I don’t need your pity.”
    Her expression hardened. The gentleness in her eyes filmed over with somethingrougher. “You don’t need me at all. You never did. You made that clear when you shut me out.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I could have helped. That’s what people do when they really love each other.”
    The words hung heavy between them. “I...” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m going to check around.”
    Pain rippled through his leg, circling like a biting dog, along with moresevere discomfort of another kind. He was wrong to blame Stephanie for Maria’s predicament. Wrong. Shamed. Furious.
    He pushed himself faster.
    Ahead was the gas station, a run-down place sporting two pumps and a banged-up soda machine. Fighting to keep his mind off the conversation he’d just mangled, he passed a narrow alley between an empty warehouse and a storage locker facility. Solost in his own thoughts, Tate almost missed the muffled sound coming from the darkened alley.
    * * *
    Stephanie stalked back to the restaurant, her stomach in a tight ball of anger. When she forced herself to take some deep breaths, she realized she was furious with herself. Tate was history—whatever past they’d had was lost under a pile of disappointment and hurt. He was weak, becauseof the addiction he’d fallen into and his inability to accept the blame for his own failure toward Maria.
    “Weak,” she grunted to herself. She allowed herself a look back to confirm it, but her eyes saw something different than her brain. His wide shoulders were silhouetted by golden sunlight, head bent as if under some heavy burden. His limp somehow made him even more alluring. She exhaledloudly, certain that her mind was succumbing to pressure and worry. Nuts, Steph. You’re losing it completely.
    She slammed open the diner door so hard that the three patrons looked up in surprise. The waitress was the only one who did not look nonplussed. She smiled, her lipstick feathered slightly in the tiny lines around her mouth. “Table, miss?”
    Stephanie pointed to her brother. Headducked, she scurried to Luca.
    “You look like you’re ready to take on the world heavyweight champion. What’s wrong? Did that idiot push your buttons?”
    “He’s not an idiot, Luca. He’s a stubborn cowboy with a chip on his shoulder who wouldn’t know a diamond from a doorknob, but he’s not an idiot.”
    Luca blinked, smile held in check. “Whatever you say.”
    The waitress arrived, tuckinga strand of silvered hair behind her ears. “Can I take your order, folks?”
    Luca asked for a refill on his coffee.
    “What kind of pie do you have?” Stephanie asked.
    “Chocolate cream, banana, apple...” the woman recited.
    “Whatever has the most chocolate in it, and make it a big slice,” Stephanie said.
    Luca waited until the waitress left. “I checked in on Victor. He’s stillstable,