THE INNOCENT: A Cowboy Gangster Novel

by CJ Bishop

  Axel prayed he was right. But Clint had yet to “recover” from nearly losing Axel months ago. Axel feared that rather than dig out the pain and deal with it, Clint might just shove it down deep…as he had, to some extent, done with the pain of watching Axel get beat half to death. That stuff tended to fester and could slowly destroy a person. He didn’t intend to let that happen to Clint. But he wasn’t positive how to stop it.

  You’ll find a way. Clint will do anything for you. He’ll listen to you.

  “Trust me.” Cory hugged him again. “And remember, you’re not in this alone. That big boy means a hell of a lot to a lot of people. None of us are willing to lose him.” He squeezed Axel tight. “We got your back, brother.”

  •♦•

  Doris Morgan had come to fear the ringing of the telephone a little more with each passing day. For the first week of her babies’ disappearance, she’d practically lunged for the phone when it rang, desperate for news that they’d been found. Once the first week ran out and still no news on their whereabouts, the fear had set in. She knew the statistics. The crucial time frame was twenty-four to forty-eight hours. If an abducted child wasn’t located within that window, the odds of getting them back turned against them drastically. Doris had held out for seven days before the reality of possibly never seeing her babies again crippled her.

  She sat at the kitchen table on this bitterly cold afternoon and listened to the wall phone ring. She stared at the cordless receiver nestled in the wall base and imagined it jiggling like in the cartoons her babies used to watch. The ringing echoed throughout the house which felt cold and empty like a tomb, though the thermostat was set to a comfortable temperature. She hadn’t felt warm since her babies had been stolen away.

  During that first week, all she could think about was what was happening to them; Were they warm? Were they being fed? Was someone hurting them? Why had they been taken? The last two questions terrified her the most and had shoved her to the brink of insanity when she’d soon learned that the authorities suspected child sex traffickers may have abducted them. She couldn’t handle that reality. Couldn’t handle the images that tormented her. It was too much. Her dreams had become haunted with the cries of her babies being mistreated…abused in the worst way.

  At the beginning of the second week, her mind shut down out pure survival instinct. She stopped talking about them to Jeffrey, stopped wondering what was happening to them. And she stopped answering the phone, convinced that whatever news they received now would be bad news. Horrifying news.

  So, she sat unmoving on this bitterly cold afternoon while the phone shrieked for someone to answer it. Doris finally stood, but she didn’t go to the phone. She walked right past it and out of the kitchen, into the living room, and sat down in the chair she rarely vacated these days; the cushioned rocking chair positioned next to the Christmas tree where her babies’ gifts had been intricately stacked.

  Two more rings and the phone went silent.

  It started up again ten minutes later, about time Jeffrey’s car pulled into the driveway. When he came through the door, he didn’t ask her why she wasn’t answering the phone; he knew why. Her husband walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone. Doris went deathly still when she heard him speak the detective’s name. He’s calling to tell you your babies are never coming home.

  That wasn’t necessarily true; detective Jordan remained in close contact with them, even when he had nothing to report. But something felt different about this call. Doris’ mind began to “wake up” and that terrified her. She didn’t realize she was clutching the arms of the chair until her hands began to ache. Even then, she couldn’t loosen her grip.

  Jeffrey quietly hung up the phone, stood for a moment, then walked into the living room. His expression was undecipherable. Doris couldn’t tell if it was one of fear or hope. “That was detective Jordan,” he murmured but didn’t immediately add anything more.

  Doris waited, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the chair.

  “He’s on his way over.” Her husband met her fearful stare. “He didn’t say what it was about.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “You know what it’s about.”

  Jeffrey shook his head, his throat working. “You don’t know that, Doris,” he whispered, his own terror peeking through. He was a tall man with a sculpted, athletic physique that emanated strength. He was the strongest man she’d ever met, in every aspect. But when it came to his babies…his strength had been tested. He was barely holding up, but still somehow on his feet. Doris had fallen beneath the crushing weight days ago, but he refused to surrender…refused to give up hope. But it was coming now; the wrecking ball that would crash through his final precarious defense. Once the detective spoke those fateful words, her husband would fall, and he would not rise again.

  When a car pulled up out front fifteen minutes later, Doris felt her heart quiver and stop. A car door closed, and Doris stood up. She walked past her husband toward the hallway.

  “Doris…” He touched her arm, his words thick, a plea in his voice. Though he denied it, a part of him knew what was coming as well, and he didn’t want to face it alone.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered as all resolve broke. “I can’t…I can’t hear him say it. I can’t hear him tell us our babies are…” It was wrong to leave Jeffrey standing there on his own, to force him to bear the brunt of this massive grief, and she would hate herself for it later. She hated herself now. But she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t.

  The doorbell rang, and her footsteps quickened. She went to her babies’ bedroom and closed the door then sat down one of the small beds. She hung her head and slid her hands up over her ears when she heard voices down the hall. Her eyes closed as if that simple act could block out more sound. It couldn’t. When she heard Jeffrey break down sobbing, she broke down, too. Her hands covered her face and she cried—for real—for the time in days. Hard, heartbreaking sobs that threatened the stability of the mind.

  Footsteps came down the hall.

  “No,” she whispered brokenly. “No…don’t come any closer…I don’t want to know…I don’t want to know…please don’t tell me…”

  The door opened slowly.

  No-no-no! Please!

  Fingers…light as a feather…touched her hands and she cried harder, pressing her face deeper into her hands. “No…”

  “Momma…”

  Doris froze as hands—tiny hands—stroked her hair. She began to shake as she slowly raised her head, her eyes opening fearfully. Her babies’ faces swam before.

  “We’re home, momma,” Samson blinked and smiled. “Did you miss us?”

  “My babies…” Doris cried and swept them into her arms, crushing their small bodies against her as she breathed in their sweet angelic scent and buried her face in their silky-soft hair. Small arms encircled her neck and clung to her. “My babies…my sweet babies…”

  Chapter 32

  Wil unashamedly wiped tears from his face. He wasn’t alone; Jeffrey Morgan wept openly as he watched his wife cling to their children. He turned to Wil, his throat working as tears ran freely. “I don’t know what to say.” His voice cracked with emotion. “Thank you isn’t enough. Not even close to being enough.”

  I’m not the one you should be thanking. Wil wanted to give credit where credit was due, but the cowboy had asked Wil to keep them out of it. He understood, but it was hard for him not to direct their gratitude toward the proper party. He took comfort in knowing that the two little children would surely regale their parents with the cowboy’s heroism. He would get the credit, one way or another.

  Wil clasped the man’s shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything,” he told him with tears in his voice. “I’m honored to be the one to bring them back to you.”

  Jeffrey looked at his wife and children. “It’s a Christmas miracle,” he whispered.

  “It is,” Wil agreed quietly.

  When he left the Morgan residence, Wil returned home. Tad was
just finishing up dinner that Vanessa had made for him. He hopped off his chair and ran to his dad. Wil lifted him up and hugged him tightly, fresh tears springing to his eyes.

  “Was their parents happy to see them?” Tad asked. He’d met the twins briefly when Axel and the cowboy had brought them to their home. Tad had been excited to see Axel again so soon and this time showed him his various collection of Hot Wheels. Samson Morgan had been intrigued as well.

  “Yeah,” Wil said thickly and looked at Vanessa. “They were very happy to see them.”

  The young woman dabbed tears from her eyes. “Bath time, little man,” she told Tad.

  Wil set Tad down. “Do as the pretty lady tells you.”

  Tad rolled his eyes. “I always do,” he said and took off down the hall to the bathroom.

  Wil looked at Vanessa dubiously. “Is that true? Does he always?”

  She laughed lightly. “Mostly.”

  “Well, that’s good to know.” He cleared his throat and wiped at the dampness in his eyes.

  “I’m so happy for the Morgans,” Vanessa said softly. “And for you. I know how much this case was weighing on you. Frank was becoming concerned about you.”

  Wil crossed the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. His back was to Vanessa as he murmured, “I think he worries about me too much in general.”

  “He cares about you. Of course, he’s going to worry. Especially, with you being a cop.” The tender tone of her voice gave Wil cause to think maybe she was aware of her brother’s deeper affection for him.

  Wil turned around and leaned against the counter. His eyes were on his cup as he stirred the cream and sugar into the coffee. “It’s nice,” he murmured.

  “What?”

  He looked up. “Having someone care about me.” Suddenly feeling nervous, though unsure why, he added, “You and Frank, you’re like family.” He set the spoon on the counter. “When Sandy and I were still together, we didn’t feel like a family. I’m still not sure why she married me.” He shrugged and smiled. “Maybe at the time, the idea of having a cop for a husband seemed exciting to her. I don’t know. If so, she got over it real fast.”

  “You’re an all-around wonderful man, Wil,” Vanessa said. “Why would she need any other reason to marry you?” She walked over and took down a cup for herself and filled it. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Were you in love with Sandy when you married her?”

  Wil thought about it, then realized that the fact that he had to think about it was the answer itself. “I thought I was,” he said. “We had a very passionate relationship at first. Made love every day.”

  “When did it start tapering off?”

  Wil liked it that he and Vanessa could talk so openly about anything without feeling uncomfortable. Such as his and his ex-wife’s former sexual relationship. “I’m not sure.” Was that true? He sighed and admitted, “After Sandy became pregnant with Tad. Looking back on it, I think maybe she was so willing to have so much sex because she knew I wanted a child and wouldn’t let up about it until we had one. I think she just wanted to get it done and out of the way.”

  “Out of the way?”

  “She would’ve been fine never having kids. She didn’t really want any but knew I did. It wasn’t until after we were married that she admitted any of that. I knew without her saying it that she wasn’t willing to give me more than one child.”

  Vanessa nodded and sipped her coffee. “So, she was the one who put the brakes on your sex life after she got pregnant?”

  Wil tapped his cup and, again, thought about the answer to that question. “No. It was more me than her.”

  “Why you?”

  “I don’t know,” he murmured. “I had a lot of excuses back then, most of them having to do with the pregnancy like I didn’t want to overdo it while she was in a delicate condition.”

  Vanessa laughed softly. “Delicate?”

  “Yeah, well,” Wil chuckled. “Like I said, I think it was just an excuse.”

  “So, what’s the real reason?”

  This was where things got confusing for Wil. Even more so since his recent interactions with Frank. “I…” he sighed. “I just kind of…lost interest in it.”

  “In sex?”

  He nodded. “We still had sex periodically, but thinking about it now, I feel like I was doing it more out of obligation than actual desire. And then after Tad was born…”

  “What?”

  “I lost all interest in sex,” Wil admitted. “He became my whole life.” He took a drink. “I know that you and Frank thought poorly of Sandy for cheating on me, but I honestly couldn’t blame her. After Tad came alone, I wasn’t a good husband.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Vanessa countered. “You worked hard, you gave her everything. She didn’t even have to take care of Tad while you were at work—I did.”

  “I took care of her financially,” Wil said. “But I wasn’t a husband to her. She was a passionate woman and I had no passion left to give her.”

  “Then she should have ended it,” Vanessa said with an air of defensiveness for Wil. “Instead of running around on you. And then for her get angry at Frank for alerting you to her extra-curricular activities…as if he was the one in the wrong for telling for you, rather than her for doing it in the first place.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t feel sorry for her. She could’ve gotten out. It wasn’t as if she was staying for Tad. I think she liked the thrill of sneaking around.”

  Wil was inclined to agree with Vanessa but still couldn’t force himself to lay all the blame on Sandy. He had been the first one to pull back.

  Getting back on subject, Vanessa asked, “Why do you think you lost interest in sex? I mean, I’ve known you for a while, and you definitely have that inner romantic vibe going on. Yet you never date.”

  Wil smiled. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for the whole man, woman relationship. Maybe I’m just meant to be a dad.”

  “Or…” Vanessa smiled teasingly. “…you’re secretly in love with me.”

  Wil chuckled. “I probably should be. You’re certainly everything a man could hope for in a woman.”

  “So, why aren’t you?”

  Wil suddenly got the sense that she was probing for something. “Maybe I am.”

  “No, you’re not. You might love me, but it’s as a sister, not as a woman.”

  True.

  “Have you ever been attracted to me?” she wondered curiously. “Ever thought I was sexy?”

  “You are sexy.”

  “That’s just an observation,” she said. “But have you ever found me to be sexy in that way that makes your jeans steam?”

  Wil laughed. “What?”

  She grinned. She was indeed exquisitely beautiful—and sexy. Not to mention the perfect “mom” material for Tad. So, why the hell hadn’t he made a play for her affections? She should be exactly what he was looking for in a woman. If you were looking for a woman.

  “Seriously,” Vanessa smiled. “I practically have to fight men off with a stick. But not you.”

  “I respect you too much to do anything that would force you to whack me with a stick.”

  “You know what I mean,” she laughed. “I have it on multiple authorities that I give guys the tingle on a regular basis. Have I ever given you a tingle?”

  Wil swallowed, suddenly nervous. “No.” She wasn’t the one causing a tickle in his tummy…or anywhere else.

  She stared at him, smiling, eyes squinted almost knowingly. “Has anyone given you a tingle?”

  Someone had. And now, Wil was more confused than ever. “I, uh…” he cleared his throat and set his cup aside as he pointed toward the hall. “I should go check on Tad.”

  He left the kitchen with Vanessa’s amused gaze trailing after him.

  •♦•

  When Adrian asked Jacob and Eric to come into the living room for a private talk, Jacob didn’t know what to expect. He
felt safe in this house, with these men, but at the edges of his mind was the thought ‘this is too good to be true’ and a part of him feared that the good stuff would start going away.

  Anthony and Angelo were waiting in the living room. A warm fire burned in the fireplace. There was nothing ominous about the scene but still Jacob clutched Eric’s hand a little too tight and couldn’t calm the fierce thumping of his heart.

  “Have a seat.” Anthony motioned to the sofa and the two boys sat down, their bodies pressed together.

  “Don’t be scared,” Angelo smiled. “What we have to say isn’t anything bad. I promise.”

  Adrian sat down next to Jacob. “He’s right. It isn’t bad.”

  Jacob relaxed a bit, and when he relaxed, so did Eric. “What do you want to talk to us about?”

  Adrian looked at the two older men, then took a deep, anxious breath and released it slowly. “You like it here, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Jacob murmured. Eric nodded.

  “And…you like us, too?” Adrian smiled.

  Jacob returned the smile. “Yes.”

  “Well…” Adrian stood up and joined the other two men near the fireplace. “What would you think about staying here…for good?”

  Had he heard him right? Jacob blinked. “What…what do you mean?” Eric squeezed his hand fiercely.

  “I mean…” Adrian said with a nervous flutter in his voice. “We would like to adopt you. Both of you. If that’s something you’d like as well. You don’t have to decide right now, you can think about it for a while-”

  “Yes,” Eric blurted out, then immediately quieted, embarrassed. “We…we want to stay here with you.”

  Adrian suppressed his excitement and asked, “Jacob?”

  Jacob was doing his best not to cry. He nodded. “Yes,” he whispered with a quaver in his voice. “We love it here.” His thoughts went straight to the other kids and his joy wavered. “What about the others? What’s going to happen to them?”