by Becky McGraw
Layla gasped as her head whipped around. Her green eyes narrowed in that “I don’t trust a thing you say” mode. “We’ll stick around until you’re tired of us, which usually happens at about three months.”
“I’m not talking months, Layla,” she said, laying her hand over the girl’s. “I’d be honored if you’d agree to let me adopt you.”
“Why in the hell would you want to do that?” she asked with a sniff. “You’ve got it good here in your palace, and don’t need troubled kids disrupting your life. Your friends at the country club would hate us and shun you.”
Anger simmered inside Lou Ellen as she pulled her hand back to cross her arms over her chest. She needed to correct some misconceptions all of them seemed to have about her.
“First of all, I’m not a member of any country club. Those people are not my friends. Secondly, I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks about my decisions, and last, I haven’t always lived in a palace. I was Cinderella at one time, scrubbing floors and toilets to survive, just like you, until my friends offered me help. I was smart enough to take it.”
“Griff is leaving so you won’t have help. It will be too much,” Layla said, pitching her second excuse. Lou Ellen was ready to hit that out of the park, too.
“Griff has nothing to do with my proposal. If he chooses to be a dumbass and leave here, I can’t stop him, but we will be okay regardless. I have friends who will help, if needed. You and your brother will have a whole extended family of beefy, big-hearted meatheads to have your back.”
“Logan and Slade?” she asked, her eyes widening a little.
“And Caleb, and Levi. Dex and Gray—you haven’t met them yet. They are less beef and meathead, but just as protective.”
“Cade?” she asked, looking back at the television. “He’s a pretty cool cat and handsome as hell. I’ll take that beef any day.”
“There will be rules you probably won’t like. The first is no cussing or talking like that. You are a young lady, or will be when I finish with you. You have to act respectful to earn respect and I will teach you how that’s done.”
“Would you make us go to school?” she asked, her lip curling.
“Yes, and I’ll make you do your homework. If you need help, I’ll be here to help,” Lou Ellen replied, the tension in her chest loosening a little.
“Jayden won’t like that,” Layla said with a snicker. “He’s used to doing his own thing. I liked school, it was the kids in my hood I had problems with.”
“There won’t be any more doing your own thing, Layla. I’ll expect you to tell me where you’re at, who you’re with and when you’ll be home. Otherwise, I’d be worried sick about you.”
“Are you sure about this? Because if I say yes and three months from now you change your mind, it won’t be pretty,” she said, her head bobbing. “We’ve been jacked around enough. We’re not stray dogs to be thrown out or hit when we mess up, or fed scraps so you can get your check from the state. If that’s the plan, I’d rather live on the streets.”
“Everyone messes up, kiddo. I don’t expect either of you to be perfect.” Lou Ellen unfolded her arms to cover her hand again. “I do expect you to respect me, try to follow the rules and admit when you’ve messed up.”
“Do you really think this will work?” she asked, not sounding one bit like she believed it would.
These two had no reason to believe anything would work out for them. That is the part Lou Ellen would have to take time to prove to them. They could be happy and live a nice, normal, productive life.
“I know it will.” Layla gave her a tentative smile as she patted her hand. “Now get your coat so we can go shopping. We need to be back early so we can start baking for the office Christmas party on Friday.”
“As much as I like sweets, you might be taking a single cookie to that party, so you may not want my help.”
“I love sweets too, so that last cookie is mine,” Lou said with a grin. “We’ll just have to double the recipes to make sure we have enough for the crew or they’ll be gripey.”
“Logan is already gripey, but he’s hot, too.” Layla wiggled her eyebrows and Lou pinched her cheeks, then leaned in to hug her. Warmth and hope spread through her when Layla hugged her back this time.
* * *
Griff stopped in the hallway when he heard Layla’s and Lou Ellen’s voices in the living room. Instead of limping to the bathroom, he edged his way to the end of the hallway to listen to their conversation. As he watched them leave to go shopping, he was glad he had eavesdropped.
His leg wasn’t healed by a long shot, but it was better thanks to the antibiotics Cade gave him and the pain pills Lou Ellen provided. He could finish those three days of pills anywhere. In a couple of weeks, he’d remove the stitches himself with tweezers. He wasn’t sure his heart would ever recover, but the memories he had of his time with this special woman would keep him forever.
What he’d just heard told him that the kids would be fine and so would Lou Ellen. It was time for him to go. Sticking around to watch them bake cookies and going to that Christmas party like he belonged there would just make it that much harder to leave them. Wasting his time pretending this could be real wasn’t doing himself, or them, any favors either.
It was better for all of them to make a clean break now, rather than weaving himself into the little family she was planning. That would only hurt them more, and potentially put them in danger. He turned back toward the bedroom and bumped into Jayden.
“You ready to get your ass kicked again? I thought you were going to the bathroom, but it looks like you’re trying to sneak out. Come take your beating like a man,” he said with a laugh, and Griff flinched.
“No, I was going to tell them to bring me back some ibuprofen, but I guess I’ll have to go out and get some myself.” Ibuprofen worked as well as the proverbial pack of cigarettes men used to go out for and never come back.
“You got pain pills, right?” Jayden asked frowning.
“Yeah, but I don’t do drugs and don’t want to get hooked on them,” he replied. “I’m tough—ibuprofen works.”
“You can hardly walk. How are you going to walk all the way to the store? You want me to go for you?” he asked, sounding suspicious.
Griff reached down to massage his thigh. “I need the exercise. It will work the kinks out of my muscle,” he lied. He didn’t know how he was going to get back to the bridge to get his stuff. Walking all that way was out of the question. He probably had enough for bus fare if he could find a bus stop in this hoity-toity neck of the woods.
“You’re not coming back are you?” Jayden asked, and Griff’s eyes flew back to his.
Griff chewed the inside of his cheek and contemplated lying. “No, I’m not coming back so it’s up to you to take care of your sister and Lou Ellen.”
He harrumphed and his lip curled. “The way my sister talked about you, I thought you were different. She bet on the wrong horse, didn’t she?” he asked.
She certainly did. They all did. Because he was lame. He was throwing them off his back before they all crashed into the fence and died with him.
It had been a nice fantasy, but it was time to wake up.
Chapter 19
“Lou? Is that you? Where are those damned cookies? I dreamed about them last night,” Dex said, jogging into the front office as soon as she walked through the door of the downtown office on Christmas Eve.
“He’s talked about nothing else for two days, so I have to try these culinary miracles too,” Grace said, strolling in behind him holding their daughter Callie’s hand.
Callie pulled her hand out. “Daddy says I can have one too, before dinner!” she said, finger-signing the words as she spoke. That kid was the miracle, Lou Ellen thought, as she walked over to set the tray down on her desk and peel back the foil. The progress she’d made on her speech and hearing since she’d last seen her was nothing short of astounding.
“Who’s this beautiful young lady,
Lou?” Dex asked as he picked one up and nodded his chin toward Layla.
“My new daughter, Layla,” she replied. “Or she will be, as soon as the adoption goes through.” The door burst open again and Jayden stood in the doorway with three more trays of cookies. “And that is my son, Jayden.”
Dex walked around the desk to lean in and kiss Layla’s cheek. “Welcome to the Deep Six family, Layla,” he said before he shoved the other half of the cookie into his mouth and walked over to take the trays from Jayden.
“You kiss me, dude, and it’s on like Donkey Kong,” he said holding up his hands, and Dex laughed.
“You like Donkey Kong?” he asked eyeballing Jayden and he nodded.
“Well, I happen to be Deep Six’s resident expert on the game and I will school you on it after we eat.”
“Resident nerd,” Slade grumbled as he and Lola came into the front office. He went straight for the cookie tray and picked up three.
“Hey, don’t be hogging,” Dex said, nudging him aside with his hip to grab another one.
“If you want to play HALO, I’m your guy, but be warned Levi and Caleb won’t give up the controller without a fight,” Slade said, with a cookie crumble grin.
Slade looked around and frowned. “Where’s Griff?” he asked, and Lou Ellen’s body tensed as a swift and powerful wave of emotion swept through her.
“He hit the road without even saying goodbye,” Layla replied, her voice shaking as her eyes filled. “He didn’t give a sh—” She looked at Lou before finishing. “Crap about us after all.”
That emotion pushed up to her throat to form a knot, shoving tears up to burn her eyes. She thought surely in three days, she’d be out of tears. Pain sliced through her chest, taking her breath and she closed her eyes and put a hand there. If she cried, she knew Layla would too, so she stood there taking deep, even breaths until she thought she had control.
“He said he was doing us a favor,” Jayden added, moving to the tray to grab a cookie. “I’d say he was doing himself a favor.” He shoved a whole cookie into his mouth and his cheeks bulged as he hugged Lou’s waist. “We don’t need him. Lou is all we need.”
Lou Ellen’s eyes popped open, a tear jumped over her lower lid and she knew more were coming, so she gently pushed Jayden away and walk-ran for the bathroom. She barely shut the door behind her before the dam broke.
Fifteen minutes and a roll of tissue later, she thought she was safe again. She got up from the toilet to walk to the mirror to fix her makeup, saw her face and sad eyes and more hot tears came. These were angry tears, though. He left without even saying goodbye. He said he’d be leaving, and she’d accepted that—what she couldn’t accept was the way he left.
His short note saying thank you was so cold and unemotional, she wondered if she’d just been a quick lay for him. If he’d just been playing her to get help and find the kids a home. She was not upset about that—it was the only thing she was thankful to him for. At least he cared enough about them not to drag them back into the street with him.
The emotional blow he dealt her would fade eventually. The hole in her heart would heal and she would move on. But right now, it hurt like hell. Knuckles rapped on the bathroom door and she looked that way.
“Lou, open the door,” Layla said, sounding like she was crying too.
Leaning over the sink and closing her eyes, Lou battled the emotional storm inside her and finally won. She blew out a breath, then opened her eyes with determination. She swept tissue under her eyes, blew her nose with it and threw it in the trash. That would be the end of her crying over Thomas Griffin.
She turned and flipped the lock on the door, opened it and gasped when she found everyone gathered in the hallway outside the door.
Susan stepped forward with Dave Jr. hugging her leg. “This came for you Fed Ex from Washington today,” she said as she handed a thick, manila envelope to her.
Lou Ellen’s hands shook as she took it, because she didn’t have to open it to know what was inside. Griff’s freedom. The new identity for him that Allison had begged and guilted to be rushed through channels for him—no, for her.
Her eyes welled again, and she swiped angrily at them with her wrist. Lifting her chin, she turned and walked back in the bathroom to toss the envelope on top of her tear-stained, mascara-streaked tissue in the trash can. It was symbolic, she thought, as she turned back toward the door. She pasted on a smile, squeezed out past Layla, then reached for her hand.
“Let’s eat,” she said, lifting her chin. She led the way into the conference room where the table was bowed in the middle with all the trays that were laid out. Her stomach rolled as the smell of roasted turkey and sage dressing filled her nose, but she would eat it and she would enjoy it. To hell with Thomas Griffin.
* * *
“Where are y’all going?” Lou Ellen asked, when immediately after they finished eating, the men got up from the conference room table. “We still have eggnog, carols, cookies and presents to go before anyone leaves here.”
“We’ll have to leave that tradition to the Deep Six ladies this year. We have an emergency mission,” Logan grumbled, as he looked at Caleb. “Levi, Caleb—you get our stuff together and bring it to the Hummer. Dex, get the maps and make it quick. Text them to us and check the bus routes and traffic cameras.” He leaned down to give Susan a lingering kiss. “Merry Christmas, baby. I’ll be home for Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas. Good luck and be safe,” she replied, her eyes glistening as she looked up at him and squeezed his hand on her shoulder.
Lou Ellen watched Taylor kiss Slade―no―make out with him, in the corner of the room. Cade kissed Cee Cee, then Dom. Dex kissed Grace and Callie, then all of them left the room.
“What in the hell are they up to? What kind of mission could they possibly get on Christmas Eve?” Lou Ellen demanded, looking at the women around the table.
“Operation The Griff Who Stole Christmas,” Susan replied with a snicker.
Chapter 20
The ibuprofen he’d stolen from Lou Ellen’s medicine cabinet wasn’t working on the pain that troubled Griff the worst. The ache in his thigh, he could handle, but the ripping, tearing pain in his chest was unbearable.
The pitch-black darkness that surrounded him at his new campsite in the woods perfectly mimicked his mood as he rubbed his chest with one hand and stirred the can of beans heating on the old refrigerator rack he found over the fire with the other.
The pint of Jack he bought with his last five bucks, which was in his duffle, might help. He knew that, but he was fighting it. If he could make it another week without taking a drink of it, get past New Years, he thought he could win the battle.
Right now, the demons were winning, because washing down the tasteless beans with that golden serum might allow him to sleep tonight. A chill racked him, and he growled as the spoon dropped from his numb fingers.
He deserved this pain. This was his punishment for putting his job before his family’s safety. For being stupid enough to trust the government to take care of them all. Living in the shadows was nothing compared to what Glynna and Kimmy went through before they died. The fear they must’ve felt. He wondered if he was their last thought. Did they die hating him for putting them in that position?
Griff’s chest became so tight, he could barely breathe. His eyes fell on the duffle bag, and another pain sliced through him. Forget the fucking beans, he thought, as he turned to crawl into the tent and lay on his sleeping bag. He curled up into a ball and rocked, hoping it would subside in a few minutes.
When he closed his eyes, visions of the Christmas tree in Lou Ellen’s living room appeared and the pain got worse. She and the kids were probably home from that party now, getting ready for bed. In the morning, they would drink hot chocolate and open presents. Without him. They were better off without him, he reminded himself.
But he was not better off without them. He loved them—let himself love them—something he said he would neve
r do again.
God, why couldn’t things be different?
Why couldn’t he live without worrying about whether he was being followed? Why did he always feel like a laser scope was focused between his shoulder blades? Why couldn’t he live in broad daylight like a human?
Because you chose to be a hero over being a father and husband, a mercenary killer with no mercy—for a paycheck. You killed hundreds of men for the government and now you are dying a slow, torturous death to pay for your sins. You knew what you signed up for and the potential consequences. You chose this.
But in his case, those consequences were magnified a hundred times and would haunt him for the rest of his life. Other men had served their country and not ended up this way. They retired, instead of going further and joining the CIA.
That is where he’d made his mistake.
Even though he’d been spec ops and intelligence, he’d had a gravy job at the end of his tenure in the Army. He saw his family more often because he planned and supervised missions, which meant he was stateside more than he was away. That lulled him into thinking when he was approached by the CIA, they wanted him for a similar job.
He couldn’t have been more wrong, but after he signed on, there was no going back. Griff was not a quitter, even though he knew he needed to quit. A moan escaped as he tightened his arms around himself and rocked harder. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to fall asleep and freeze to death, because he was even too stubborn to quit this life himself.
A stick snapped outside the tent and he stopped to listen. Was it a stick in the fire popping, he wondered, as adrenaline sent his heart into overdrive. He reached his hand over and flipped open the wooden box in the corner of the tent. When his fingers touched all four sides and he found the box empty, he remembered that Layla had taken his pistol, and he hadn’t picked it up on his way out of the warehouse.
Dying wouldn’t be such a bad thing right now anyway, he thought, with a sigh as he sat up. He heard footsteps as someone crept closer to the tent and decided to go out and meet the reaper. He crawled to the flap of the tent and threw it back, a little excitement filling him at the prospect of finally being out of the hell he’d been living in. Surely, with all he’d sacrificed, God would have mercy on him.
