Lethal Balance: Sons of the Survivalist: 2

by Cherise Sinclair

  Regan mustn’t get swept into the sewer along with JJ. Even if JJ tried to explain what was happening, the child was too young to understand about vindictive gossip. About lying.

  “I hate you.” The words hurt so much. JJ pulled in a breath as she climbed into the patrol car and headed out of town. She’d heard mothers talk about the pain of hearing “I hate you” from their children. But, at least they’d had a solid foundation of love first. JJ and Regan had only a budding friendship. Which was now shattered past all repair.

  If JJ told him, Caz would undoubtedly talk with his daughter, but JJ had seen her face. It was more than a shallow anger. If Caz wanted JJ, and Regan stayed obstinate, then… What would happen?

  Leaning her head on the steering wheel, JJ fought for control.

  Regan had suffered enough. Had lost a mother. Even now, she wasn’t confident about where she fit in her father’s life. Of his love. Nothing should be allowed to mess up her world. Putting Caz in the middle, forcing him to choose sides between a lover and a daughter, would be wrong. In fact, it would be less painful for him if he never knew how Regan felt.

  JJ would simply leave.

  Leave her female friends—Audrey, Lillian, Regina, Sarah. Her eyes started to burn with tears.

  Lose the boss she liked and respected. Who considered her a skilled LEO.

  Leave Cazador. A tear ran down her cheek. He wouldn’t understand—and she couldn’t explain. If he hated her for running, then…at least he wouldn’t mourn her loss. That would be best for him and for Regan.

  Unable to move, to drive, she buried her head in her hands and cried.

  Caz was at a loss for what to do. Regan had been sullen and snarky from the moment she joined him in the clinic until he tucked her in. Undoubtedly the fight at school had something to do with it, but…this seemed like more.

  Damned if he knew what.

  He felt as if he was failing JJ and Regan. But, after talking with Lillian and Sarah and Regina, at least he knew what was being said in town.

  Gabe had been right—it was ugly. He needed to talk with JJ.

  He’d wanted to all weekend, but she’d disappeared. Gone to Anchorage. And had ghosted him. With each call and text she’d ignored, his anger had grown.

  Now, she was back. He’d have gone over earlier, but Regan hadn’t been in a place where he felt comfortable leaving her alone, not even if he was next door.

  So, he’d waited. After checking that she was asleep, he walked to Mako’s cabin and upstairs to JJ’s. He knocked.

  “Who is it?”

  “Caz.”

  “Not receiving tonight, sorry. Whatever it is, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  His temper flared. “Tonight.”

  When she didn’t open the door, his jaw tightened. Outwaiting his prey had never been a problem for him. After a minute, he knocked again.

  And again.

  And again.

  “Fucking hell.” The stomping across the room said his quarry was moving. The door was yanked open. Her hair was a tangle of curls, her eyes red, and the lids swollen. Her face flushed with annoyance.

  Of course. Those fucking rumors. His own anger slid down a notch. “JJ, I know the gossip is upsetting you.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. I should have come to the door. I just didn’t want to deal with the mess tonight. I planned to talk with you tomorrow.”

  The leaden tone was so unlike her. He reached for her hand.

  She stepped back, out of reach. “Caz, this isn’t a good time.”

  Of course it wasn’t. She wasn’t someone who easily shared her problems. And her reaction wasn’t rage as Gabe’s had been. Caz fingered the sore spot on his jaw—his brother still had a good right punch. “The buzz will die down, JJ. What they’re saying is ugly, but new gossip will replace it soon enough.”

  “I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “This is what happened to me before, in Weiler, and it didn’t die down. Nash kept feeding it—and then it fed on itself. If I so much as talked with any officer, a girlfriend or wife would be sure I was coming on to him.”

  “Dios,” Caz muttered. “No wonder you left.”

  “I did.” She pulled in a hard breath. “And I’ll be leaving here.”

  He heard the words, but they took a moment to impact. Then it felt as if a grenade had taken out his heart. “Say that again.”

  “I’m sorry, but we’re done. Not that we were anything more than fuck buddies, but—”

  The anger returned. “We were more than that. I care for you, and you know it. We can outlast the gossip. And if we’re together, then the rumors will—”

  She shook her head, and sorrow filled her gaze. “I…can’t. You don’t understand and…I’m leaving and that’s all there is to say.”

  “Just like that? No talk, no trying to work it out. You’re just leaving?” Caz narrowed his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  Her tone left no recourse, no room for argument, none for the comfort he wanted to give. “Because of rumors and nasty talk, you’ll give up everything we might have had?”

  The sorrow disappeared under a cool indifferent mask. “That’s right.”

  Disappointment and loss tasted like ash in his mouth. He held her gaze. “You told me you weren’t a coward. What happened?”

  Turning, he walked toward the stairs, hoping against hope that she’d call him back. He reached the first step and turned…only to see the door closing. He heard the lock turn.

  She’d shut him out completely, physically, mentally, emotionally.

  An ache filled his chest until he bent his head against the pain. Dammit, JJ. Pulling in a breath, he went down the rest of the stairs and out into the dark night.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Success in life is the ability to move from one mistake to another without losing enthusiasm. ~ Winston Churchill

  * * *

  Tuesday evening at home, Bull sat on his sectional, made notes on a recipe he wanted to modify, and kept an eye on Regan’s work. Caz had to stay at the clinic until an ambulance took a patient off his hands. Bull had volunteered to child-sit.

  Regan was sitting on the floor and using the coffee table as a desk. She was concentrating so fiercely on knotting a paracord bracelet he was surprised steam didn’t come from her ears. She’d jumped into working on the craft so quickly, he knew she had other things on her mind. Was stewing over something. Maybe over the fight at school that’d left her face bruised?

  She finished another knot and looked up.

  “Good,” Bull told her. “Now, pull the cord as tight as possible and slide it up.”

  Lower lip between her teeth—she really was damn cute—she kept going. The girl had the kind of determination that they looked for in SEALs. This little mite would never go belly up and whine she just couldn’t do it. She’d stay the course.

  As if she felt him watching her, she looked up. “Papá said you guys used to fight. When you were my age.”

  Bull grinned. “Yeah, we did. A lot.”

  “You’re a lot bigger than Papá. Did you hurt him?”

  Huh, he had a feeling she’d hold a grudge if he said yes. “Nope. Well, we all got some blows in. But winning? I think it was pretty equal.”

  Her little nose wrinkled in an expression of disbelief, and he laughed. Fuck, she was a cutie.

  “Seriously. I’m bigger, and I won that way. Now, Gabe was actually a better fighter—he can think when he fights—so he won a lot. Caz—your daddy—he’s so damn fast that no one could even hit him. And Hawk, well, when he got into it, I’m not sure he even felt us hit him.

  Yeah, Hawk was scary that way. “A lot of time when I was pounding on one, Gabe’d grab the other and do a sneak attack from the rear.” Bull shook his head. In spite of those childhood lessons, he still had trouble checking his six. Just wasn’t in his personality to anticipate attacks from the rear—in fighting or in business.

  A soft tap-tap came from the deck side do
or, and Hawk limped in. Silently. Seeing Regan, he stopped short, his mouth tightening.

  Bull jerked his head toward the kitchen. “Got a pale ale you might like. Bring me one, too.”

  Brow furrowed, Regan watched Hawk walk into the kitchen. “I can go. I’m big enough to stay by myself.”

  Bull shook his head. “Nope. You can stay here and finish, then we’ll see what we want to cook for supper. It’s time you learned a new meal to prepare, don’t you think?”

  She nodded enthusiastically.

  Being left alone didn’t bother her—her independence made him think she’d had to fend for herself too fucking much. Yet, she hadn’t been taught the basics of cooking. She could microwave a meal from a can, but hadn’t known how to prepare anything more difficult than a fried egg. He was finding it an honor and joy to teach her kitchen skills.

  Hawk handed him a beer, sat down as far from Regan as he could get, then patted the sofa. “New?”

  “Yeah. The armchairs and couch I had before didn’t let me stretch out enough.” The U-shaped sectional was long enough to surround both the television area and the woodstove in the corner—and to let a big man sprawl in comfort on a lazy Sunday morning. He’d gone with a combination of studded brown leather and softer-than-shit beige cushions. It went well with the room’s brown and cream colors. “I didn’t want anything fancy.”

  “It’s nice.” Regan shifted positions on the hardwood floor. “Although you should get a rug.”

  “You’re spoiled, girl,” Bull said. Caz had Oriental carpets here and there. Dark reds, florals.

  Yeah, it was obvious only a male lived in Bull’s cabin. Actually, Audrey was the only woman to have seen his place. Well, Bull wasn’t much interested in changing that, either. When he visited his restaurant and brewery in Anchorage, he’d spend the night with a woman friend. Like him, she had no interest in anything romantic.

  Leaning back with his beer, he studied his brother. “What’s up?”

  Hawk was clean—hell, he’d always loved his showers—but his hair and beard hadn’t been trimmed anytime in the recent past. His eyes were tired. Haunted.

  Bull shook his head. Like too many combat vets, he had times when the past violence was more present than…the present. Times where nightmares dragged any chance of sleep away. It’d been a while since he’d been covered in blood and guts. His brother’s experience was far more recent.

  Hawk shrugged. “Walls closing in.”

  “I hear you. Welcome to winter.” He smiled at Regan who was singing to herself as she made the knots. When he hummed a harmony to her tune, her expression lit.

  Hawk’s face softened for a moment before he caught himself.

  Bull glanced out the window at Gabe’s cabin next door. The lights were on. “Maybe we should gather everyone at Mako’s. The kid might as well learn to cook for half-a-dozen as two.”

  “Not tonight.” At Bull’s raised eyebrows, Hawk went into an elaborate explanation—for him. “Gabe’s looking to rip someone a new one.”

  That didn’t sound like Gabe. “Did a Patriot Zealot annoy him?”

  “No. Caz did.” Hawk took another sip of his beer. “JJ gave notice.”

  “What the fuck?” But Bull knew why. Gossip and bars went together like salt and pepper. When bartending at the roadhouse, he’d heard the shit people were saying about Officer Jenner. Just went to show that assholes flourished in small towns as well as cities. But, damn, he hadn’t thought she’d let it drive her away.

  Unless maybe she and Caz had a fight?

  “What’s that mean?” The high voice reminded him there was a kid in the room. “Gave notice. What’s it mean?”

  Hawk looked away. He probably figured he’d used his quota of words for the day.

  Thanks, bro. “Means JJ told Gabe that she’s quitting and won’t work for him any longer.”

  After a flash of satisfaction, Regan went pale. “But what will she do?”

  “Find another job. Somewhere else.” Dammit. He wasn’t blind. Caz loved the woman. And Gabe needed her as his officer. He glanced at Hawk. “When’s her last day?”

  “Usual. Two weeks.”

  Bull turned to Regan. “It’s considered polite to work for a couple of weeks after you tell an employer you’re quitting. It gives them time to hire someone else.”

  A crease formed between her brown eyebrows. “She’ll work for Uncle Gabe for two more weeks and then…she’ll just leave?” The last word was said with almost desperation.

  “Afraid so. She’s a police officer. If she doesn’t work at the Rescue Police Department, then she has no other job to take.”

  Regan’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t want her to leave. I didn’t mean it.” Dropping the paracord, she fled into the bathroom. The door slammed behind her.

  “Fuck,” Hawk muttered.

  “Agreed.” Bull took a long pull of his beer. “A bit of a guilty conscience there?”

  Hawk’s gaze was on the hallway where the bathroom was. “Bet she heard the gossip.”

  “Schools. Of course she did.” Bull winced, thinking about it. “The two bullies who pick on her and her bestie probably rubbed her nose in it…and she overreacted.”

  “You think? She seems pretty sweet.”

  “She is. She’s also got Caz’s temper.”

  Hawk’s gray-blue eyes lit with amusement. After a second, he frowned. “Bullies?”

  “Yeah.” Bull’s lips twitched. “I’m sure you noticed the bruises on her face?”

  “Hard to miss.”

  “Apparently, some bigger boy pushed her friend down. Regan flattened the asshole.”

  A corner of Hawk’s mouth lifted. “Good.”

  “Stay for supper, bro. The kid’s gonna be messed up, especially if she had something to do with JJ wanting to leave.”

  Hawk’s glance at the bathroom door held sympathy. Bull knew Hawk’d had the hardest time of any of them with anger management. As a kid, when he lost his temper, he went berserk—and doled out a lot of damage. After breaking Gabe’s nose, he’d run away. Had planned to stay out in the wilderness and die.

  They’d tracked him, got him back, and then Mako’d called his buddy, a kid psychologist, to help. Dr. Grayson had stayed for a week at the cabin. Gabe hadn’t held a grudge—none of them did. They’d all had fucked-up childhoods, had all spent time on the streets. Hawk’s past, though, was the stuff of nightmares. Because the monsters had been his parents.

  Hawk was still watching the hallway.

  Finally, Regan came out, eyes all red.

  Hawk glanced at Bull. Nodded. And asked Regan, “What’re you cooking for supper?”

  * * *

  Uncle Hawk was still awful scary, but he was kinda nice, too. Regan had helped Uncle Bull make pulled-pork sandwiches.

  Hawk had even helped, getting lettuce, radishes, and stuff from the greenhouse. As he cut it all up for a salad, he didn’t talk hardly at all, and when he did, his voice still sounded mean, like scraping a knife over a rock.

  At least neither uncle said anything about Regan bawling her head off in the bathroom. JJ would’ve thought that was a plus. The thought of JJ had Regan’s lip quivering again.

  “So, little bit, did anything interesting happen today in school?” Bull handed her a brownie with tons of chocolate frosting.

  “Uh.” Stalling, she licked the frosting off her fingers. The scary uncle wouldn’t want to hear about a kid’s day.

  Leaning back in his chair, Hawk lifted his eyebrows. At her.

  “Um. Kinda? After school, a moose came down the hill—between the kids walking home and the school. Some of the resort stupidheads were, like, all scared and trying to get past it to get back inside. It got upset.” She half-grinned and admitted, “I got scared, too, but I wasn’t stupid. The teacher—Mr. Hayes—yelled to try to get kids to get away, but no one paid any attention.

  “Surprised the moose didn’t stomp one of them,” Bull muttered to Hawk before saying to Regan,
“Trudging through the snow makes moose irritable. You remember what to do when you see one?”

  She nodded. Everybody except Hawk had given her a moose lecture. Even Audrey, cuz she said people laughed at her for messing up. Being laughed at was bad. “Back away and give it space. Run behind a tree if it charges. I tried to tell the other kids that, but no one listened to me.”

  “Use command voice,” Hawk said.

  “Huh?”

  He straightened, his blue gaze on her. “Sometimes I take injured people to the hospital. In my plane.”

  She must have looked stupid, cuz Bull said, “If roads get closed, bush pilots will fly sick people to the city hospitals. Hawk helps out now and then.”

  “Oh. That’s chill.”

  Hawk took a drink. “Did it a lot when I was young. But people don’t listen when they’re hurting or scared.”

  It took her a second to catch on. He’d been young, and people didn’t listen to him. “What’d you do?”

  “Mako taught me in command voice. Nobody ignores a drill sergeant.” He motioned for her to stand up.

  She slid off her chair.

  “Stand tall. Suck air into your belly. Push your stomach down and get more air in. Yell—and push out each word from your gut. Deep voice, one word orders.”

  She frowned. “What’s that mean? One word.”

  “Not shut-up, but: Shut. Up.” He pointed at her. “Do it.”

  Her face heated. Yell in front of them? Still, the lesson started with Mako—and Mako was special. She hauled in air.

  “Suck it down into your gut,” Hawk reminded. “Works best if you’re in front of them. Face-to-face.”

  Yeah, shouting at someone’s back wouldn’t work good. She tried again, filled her belly, and blasted out, “Shut. Up.” Her eyes widened. “Friggers, I sound different.”

  Bull grinned. “Nice job.”

  “Practice it.” Hawk’s eyes were serious. “Practice till you can bark out commands even if you’re scared enough to piss yourself. Because that’s when you’ll need it.”

  “Hooyah.” Bull pointed at the deck door. “Go yell at the patio grill for a few minutes. I want to be able to hear you in here.”