“So. Where do we go from here?” I asked.
“I’ll make arrangements for you to stay on this island for now. We’ll have your face reconstructed and altered with plastic surgery in the process. We’ll arrange the same for Joe. My people will check the status and report back to me. You two can’t be recognized in the states right now. It’d be a cause for concern because you’re, well, dead. We’ll make a new identity for you. We can alter Logan’s last name if we need to. Neither you nor Joe exist in any military or civilian databases so there will be no digital cleanup required. Once we’re all set, you can move back home. To your old home if you wish. Live however you want. My people will come see you if we need you. Deal?” He held out his hand.
“What do we have to do in return? Anything?”
“Just silence. Once I leave, none of this ever happened. We’ll clean everything up and we are very thorough.”
I glanced around and got nods from everyone in the room before I approved. “Deal.” I shook his hand once more.
Titan stood up from the chair. His eyes were the color of the clear ocean outside and his hair short and dark. He adjusted his tie and walked a few steps away. He didn’t turn around. “How did you get off the island, anyway? Just curious?”
I glanced around the room for a second. “I made promises to people not to divulge that information. I’m sure you understand.”
“Fair enough.” He chuckled. “You were supposed to run after the second round. I’m glad you didn’t. Made for one hell of an ending.”
I moved my stare around to everyone and back to him. “This family doesn’t run.”
He walked out the door and his security guard followed him.
The six of us trailed out behind them. Titan climbed in the chopper along with the other guards who’d trapped us behind the building. I counted all of them. He hadn’t left anyone to cover the front earlier. He’d known exactly what I’d do.
We walked out about twenty feet from the chopper. The pilot waved at Logan.
I picked him up and put him on my shoulders. The sand swept up and formed a rippling band of circles. The wind picked up and beat against our faces as the blades sped up with a whup whup whup.
The Chinook slowly rose from the beach, then dipped and swerved around in a half-circle. The nose angled down, and it shot out over the water.
The six of us stood there, watching as it turned into a tiny black dot on the horizon.
I glanced around at everyone and then back to Joe. “Thanks. For everything.”
He glanced to Logan. “I like him.”
Cora looked up at me. She’d been eerily quiet since Titan had started telling us everything. I could see in her face and eyes that she was trying to work out every little detail. She loved puzzles.
She took a few steps out in front of everyone and stared at the ocean. Her head swept back and forth, watching the waves breaking over and over down the coastline.
“It makes so much sense.” Her words were a mumble like she was talking to herself. She whipped around and stared right at Gus. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“Huh?” Gus asked.
“You helped him escape the island.”
“I-I-I don’t—” Gus stammered.
She turned to me. “It’s why you owed him.” She nodded back at Gus. “He helped you escape the island. He was the guard you told me about, that was kind to you. He was the only father figure you knew. That’s why you sit outside Logan’s door in the chair. It was a learned behavior. You watched Gus up on the platform, guarding you on the island.”
Gus glanced at Cora and then back at me and shrugged. He didn’t deny anything.
Cora smiled. It looked like she was happy to know one more thing that made me tick. I strode over to her and took both of her hands in mine. All the people I loved were with me, and all of us free and happy. It was perfect.
“I love you so much.”
I snaked my hands through her hair and kissed her soft lips. Waves pounded the shoreline the same way my heart pounded every time I was in the same room as her. And I’d never stop loving Cora just like the waves would never stop crashing onto the beach.
Our lips finally parted, and she smiled that lovestruck smile only she was capable of. The one reserved only for me. Her hand covered her mouth again and her face paled.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded against her palm, and then waved Logan over to us. “Go stand over there for a second, I need to talk to Logan.”
“Huh?”
What the hell was going on?
“Just do it.”
“Okay.” I turned and walked about ten feet away.
Logan walked up, and Cora kneeled in the sand and gave him a huge hug. Then she stared at me the whole time while she whispered into Logan’s ear.
His eyes shot open wide and the kid grinned from ear-to-ear. She told him something else and he nodded. His whole body was practically shaking, and his face was pink.
He walked toward me and kept glancing back at Cora.
“What’s up, buddy?”
He stopped a few feet away from me and motioned for me to lean down. I dropped to a knee. His face was dead serious like he was on a mission. Logan looked over at Janet, Gus, and Joe who were all leaning in like they were on the edge of their seats, waiting to know what was going on.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Ms. Chapman says you need to stop worrying so much.”
I glanced past Logan, to Cora. “And why is that?”
“Eyes right here, Dad.” He put his palms on my cheeks and turned me back to face him.
I smiled. “Okay, you have my attention.”
“You need to stop worrying, because—” He paused. Turned back to Cora and grinned.
I started to grow impatient. “Because why?”
“Because she’s not sick.” His face went from serious to a wide smile. “It’s because my dream that I told you about before the fight came true. She’s growing me a brother or sister inside of her belly.”
Couldn’t breathe.
Gasping.
My face went pink, and all I could do was stare. I sat there, looking at Logan for a brief moment, even though time seemed to stand still. I reached out for him, the first thing I could think to do, and hugged him. Yanked him into me. My whole body trembled against him and tears rolled down my cheeks. I kissed him on the forehead. “Congratulations, big brother.”
He grinned. We shook hands. He was a man now.
Janet squealed somewhere in the mix and I looked over and Gus and Joe were shaking hands and smiling and looking over at us. I walked slowly over to Cora and tried to look as serious as Logan had looked with me. He was clearly a better actor. I sniffled a couple times and wiped a tear or two out of my eye.
Cora smiled at my attempt as I made my way to her. I looked down at her and tried to keep a straight face. Each time I went to say something my voice damn near cracked and the words wouldn’t come out. I didn’t realize news like this would affect me so profoundly. I’d reacted like a robot when Miranda had told me about Logan, but I didn’t know what kind of joy and happiness Logan was going to bring me. How he would change me. Everything about me.
They say your kids shouldn’t define who you are, but to that I say bullshit. My son changed my life. I evolved because of him. He is a part of me—a key component of who I am. And it will be the same with the new baby growing inside the woman I love.
Finally, I just dropped to my knees in front of her. I ran my hands up the sides of her thighs, and up over her hips. I stared up at the love of my life and pushed her shirt up just enough to expose a thin section of her stomach.
“Our baby is in here?”
Tears ran down her smiling face too, and she nodded. “I found out when I woke up this morning. I was coming down to tell you when the helicopter showed up.”
I gripped her lightly around both hips and pressed my lips to her stomach. I wh
ispered, “I love you” against her skin. I hooked an arm around the back of Cora’s knees and scooped her—careful not to aggravate her injury—so that I had her cradled. “I love you so damn much.”
She put her good hand on my cheek. “I love you too, babe.”
“Wooo! Better than a book!” Janet came running up and everyone else followed. She stopped a few feet away. “No, no, wait.”
I couldn’t help but smile even more because of how happy Janet was. Watching her in the depths of depression the past week had really taken a toll. I hated watching the people I love suffer.
“What is it?” Cora asked.
“Now, we need a shotgun wedding. And you two will be the perfect book plot.” Janet folded her arms and stared at me.
Cora snorted.
“Sounds like my kind of wedding.” Joe grinned.
Janet face-palmed.
I looked at Joe. “It doesn’t mean an actual shotgun.”
Joe didn’t even look like he’d registered what I’d said.
Cora stared at me, shaking her head. “He’s going to bring a shotgun to our wedding one day. Isn’t he?”
I moved my stare from Joe back to Cora and nodded. “Oh yeah. Look at him.”
We both looked at Joe and he was staring off in the distance, gears spinning in his head.
“He’s deciding which kind he’ll bring.”
Joe whipped his head over to me. “Don’t be ridiculous. Winchester 1887, of course.”
I stared at Cora. She had the same look as Joe on her face. The look of deep contemplation.
“You’re as ridiculous as him.”
“What?” She snapped out of her little daydream.
“You’re already planning a wedding in your head, aren’t you?”
“No.” She looked away and bit her lip.
I squeezed her tighter to me. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’m going to marry you. And that special moment, when I ask you, it’ll be a moment you’ll never forget.”
Her eyelashes fluttered, and I felt her thighs squeeze together. The same way they always did when I let her know the way things would be. I leaned down and kissed her forehead. Logan walked up between us. Soon Gus, Janet, and Joe stood side by side with us too, until we were all staring out at the crystal-blue water.
I inhaled a huge breath of the air at the same time as Cora. We both looked at each other and smiled. It wasn’t Montana, but it smelled like freedom and a new beginning.
BONUS MATERIAL
COMING SPRING 2017!
The Max Savage series
(chapter one of book one included)
CHAPTER 1
THE FIRST DAY I MET Sean Callahan he told me Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys invented Western swing music in 1935. They played it at Cain’s Ballroom in Tulsa, Oklahoma. One day ago, Sean Callahan was found dead in his bathroom. He was my only friend. I got on a bus.
I stepped off a Greyhound in the heart of downtown Tulsa twenty hours later at the corner of 3rd and Detroit. I wondered how far it was to Cain’s Ballroom. I’d need to check that place out. The detective’s division of the police station took priority, however, and that’s where I was headed.
An old black man, maybe seventy, with a leathery face and a charcoal fedora cocked sideways on his head panhandled for change against a wall.
I dropped fifty cents into his Styrofoam cup. “Detective’s division? Know where it is?”
“600 Civic Center.” He recited the address immediately like he’d said it a thousand times. “Right by the BOK Center. Not far.” He quirked an eyebrow up at me like he knew why I was going there. “You in trouble, son?”
“Not me.”
“Sure.” He exhaled a sigh. “Head south to 6th and make a right. Keep going a few blocks. Can’t miss it.”
“Thanks.” I nodded and took off the direction his shaky finger pointed.
I glanced around while I walked. Tulsa was bigger than I’d expected. I passed a few skyscrapers and some older church buildings lined up in neat rows running east to west, or west to east, depending on how you looked at it. The sun beat down on me from above at high noon. One of the taller buildings caught my eye. It was a neo-gothic design. Definitely over thirty stories tall and it had an ornate trapezoidal prism on top with a pale green patina. The same color as the Statue of Liberty. Has to be copper. The color was the result of exposure to the elements. Same way iron turned to rust. Old pennies before 1982 would turn green if you left them on the street long enough. They were made of copper. They made them with Zinc after that. Same reason some rings would turn a finger green. The same thing made a man a man. What he’d been exposed to, I thought. Everyone had a patina. I liked the building.
I made a right onto 6th street. A few blocks west and I’d be where I needed to be.
The people were the same as most people in downtowns. Dressed in suits or skirts. The rest looked down on their luck. My kind of people. They didn’t bullshit and they were interesting. Like the man who gave me directions. I was sure he had a story. One I’d have liked to hear if I hadn’t been in a hurry. I liked to listen more than I liked to talk.
I had fifteen dollars in my wallet and a folded paperback of The Prince by Machiavelli in the other back pocket of my jeans. Didn’t need much to get by. Didn’t like lugging things around with me. It made life simple. I left the book on an empty bench in front of a building. It could be someone else’s treasure. I liked leaving books around. People needed to read more.
The building at 600 Civic Center was unremarkable. A big white block about twelve stories tall with golden frames around each window. It looked like it’d been dropped in the middle of the city with a crane. That probably wasn’t far from the truth only it’d been assembled with one. The BOK center was a large arena that sat just north and looked like a giant roll of Duct tape, but in the best possible way I’d supposed. It was sleek and modern juxtaposed against the older architecture of the city. Like any other arena it was probably used for concerts and big events. Bond money at work to step out of the shadow of Oklahoma City, I guessed.
I took off up some steps and into the foyer. They had one of those black boards with the white moveable letters for a directory inside. Definitely a government building. I confirmed the detective’s division was on the third floor. I took the stairs two steps at a time. Elevators left me feeling trapped. You’d never catch me inside one unless absolutely necessary.
I shoved through the stairwell door on the third floor and walked down the hallway. Office doors for each suite flanked me on both sides. A loud bang went off when the stairwell door slammed shut and it echoed down the hall. I made my way into the suite marked as the detective’s division. A lady sat at a mahogany desk in the entryway. It read TULSA DETECTIVE’S DIVISION in block letters on a temporary wall behind her. Offices formed the perimeter and a bullpen of cubicles made up the center. The place where the people actually did the work.
“Can I help you?” The lady smiled between phone calls.
“Sean Callahan.”
“Does he work here?”
I stared.
We locked eyes for about five seconds before she picked up her phone. “Sean Callahan?” She nodded to the sound of the voice coming from the receiver and then turned to me. She hung up the phone. “One moment, please.”
I gazed around the lobby. Nothing exciting. A few chairs. A magazine or two. Tulsa Police Department logo on the wall.
A man and a woman walked around the corner. Both had brown leather holsters strapped around their shoulders. The guy looked like a detective out of a movie. I almost laughed. All he needed was a moustache to match his wavy brown hair. The woman wore black slacks that said professional, but they hugged her hips just right. A crisp white button-down tucked into them. She was not unattractive at all. Sandy blonde hair tied up in a messy ponytail. Natural color. Emerald-green eyes.
“Hi, I’m Detective Shirley.” She reached out.
The man
glared. I shook her hand. I needed information. He didn’t look pleased that she spoke before him. That wasn’t information that I cared about.
“This is Detective Harden.” She nodded to her partner (I assumed.) “We worked the Callahan case. How can we help you?”
“You got a name?” Harden folded his arms over his chest.
I stared back and forth at both of them for a few quick beats. “Worked?”
“Suicide.” No empathy in Harden’s voice. Almost sounded proud when he said it.
Detective Shirley glanced around. “We should go sit down to discuss this. Are you family? The one who called?”
I kept quiet and followed them back to the bullpen. We split the middle of two rows of cubicles and ended up at Shirley’s desk. I may have admired her ass in her tight black pants along the way. Her name plate on her cubicle read KRISTINE SHIRLEY, DETECTIVE. She was young. Looked about twenty-three which meant she was probably twenty-five or twenty-six. Had to be.
I sat down in a chair across from her desk. Starsky (that’s what I’d be calling Harden) posted up behind her when she sat down. Almost looked like he was trying to stake a claim. He was middle-aged and had a simple yellow-gold wedding band on his left ring finger. Maybe late-thirties.
Shirley started to speak, and he barreled right over her. “Suicide. Clear as day. No sign of foul play.”
“Bullshit.”
His eyes widened. Jaw clenched. “Excuse me?”
My eyes rolled up to his. “You heard me.”
“Do you have evidence?” Shirley leaned forward like I’d just piqued her curiosity and also like she was trying to defuse the tension that just filled the air. Her voice remained soft. Good cop, bad cop, I guessed. I wasn’t a suspect. Maybe Starsky was just a dick. Probably the case. Didn’t matter.
Bad Dad Page 35
