Walker Revenge (The Walker Family Series Book 5)

by Bernadette Marie

  Jake came from the garage wiping his hands on a greasy red towel. “I could have been home an hour ago,” he said with a nod in their direction.

  “Sure. That’s not some grandma’s car you're working on in there,” Russ poked at him for working late on another hot rod he was building as he climbed from the truck and waited for Chelsea to bring the chair around. He’d found that even trying the crutches with his sore arm was a bitch. The chair would have to do. “When’s your next race?”

  “Few months. You should come. It’s in Florida. Nice and warm.”

  Chelsea secured the chair next to him and helped ease him in.

  “Okay, where’s my truck?”

  Jake pointed to the side of the garage, and Chelsea pushed him toward the heap of metal that had caged him in.

  “Damn,” he said slowly on a breath that escaped his lungs. Okay, they were right. He was lucky to be alive.

  “Oh, Russ,” Chelsea sobbed, and when he looked at her, her hand had come to her mouth, and her eyes were wet.

  “You can go sit in the car if you need to.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m fine.”

  Jake tucked the rag into the pocket of his coveralls. “What are you looking for?”

  “My wallet often falls out of my pocket and lodges itself in the seat. I haven’t seen it since I left the bar.”

  Jake nodded. “Okay, let me see what I can find.”

  He went to the truck and climbed through the window of the passenger side. Russell watched as he contorted his body in the smashed cab trying to flip the seats. A few moments later, he reached his hand out the window with the wallet in his hand.

  “That’s it!” Russell hollered. “Now, do you see my gun?”

  “What the hell? You had your gun? Who were you going to shoot?”

  Chelsea laughed. “He’s a southern man. He carries a gun.”

  Jake nodded in agreement and went down in the cab, searching. He took longer this time, and when he poked his head out the window, he waved for them to come closer.

  “You weren’t shot were you?” Jake asked.

  “No.” Russell shook his head. “Why?”

  “I would suppose that’s why they didn’t look for bullet holes in your cab.” Confined in the small space of the crushed cab, Jake pulled the back of the seat down to reveal a bullet hole that would have been only inches from Russell’s head. “Your gun isn’t here.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” He turned to Chelsea. “I guess they didn’t think I was dead enough.”

  “I don’t like this, Russ.” She sobbed again.

  “Neither do I.”

  Phillip sat at his desk and kept his eyes on Russell as he relayed what they’d learned. “So now we have a hit and run, burglary, and attempted murder for sure.” He ran his hand over his head. “Seriously, we need some answers.”

  “Check the pawn shops. Maybe they tried to sell my gun.”

  Phillip nodded and wrote a note on the pad of paper on his desk.

  “I talked to Wesley again. He admitted to knowing Fiona, but only after I showed him the picture of her. The name hadn't rung a bell. He says knows Dominic’s brother, but not Dominic.”

  Chelsea leaned in toward the desk. “Which picture did you show him?”

  Phillip turned toward his computer and typed her name. He then turned the screen toward them.

  “Are you shitting me?” Russell nearly stood from his seat. “That’s her! That’s the woman that broke up the fight.”

  “The woman with the dark hair?”

  “Well, yeah, but like you said, you can change your appearance in three weeks easy.” He studied her closer. “I remember thinking how old she looked and how she must have had a horrible life. It shows on her face.”

  He turned to Chelsea, whose eyes were wide as she looked at the picture. “That’s her. I did see her. She had on big sunglasses and a hat. So she didn’t really strike me as her, but I felt it. I know I did.”

  “Okay, let me make some calls. We might have caught ourselves a break, especially if she took the gun.” He picked up his phone from his desk. “Why don’t you guys head home. I’ll call you when I learn something.”

  Russell nodded. “Okay. But I think we’re going to detour and get us a marriage license now that I have my wallet.”

  “Yep, better make that legal,” Phillip joked as he dialed a phone number and waited for an answer.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Very—very—slowly, Russell managed into the county building on crutches. Not even laying in that bed after surgery had hurt as much as it did taking his first assisted steps.

  “You should have waited,” Chelsea said as she poised at every step to help him. “Let me go get the wheelchair. You need more physical therapy.”

  “Oh, this is therapy enough,” he laughed as he winced at the pain.

  He’d be damned if he’d roll in for the license. He’d stood for the ceremony. It seemed fitting to him.

  The process took a mere few minutes. That surprised him. He was sure it would be like visiting the DMV where you wait in line for hours.

  “Okay, we just need to get Lydia’s signature as the officiant and two witnesses,” Chelsea said as they made their way back to the car.

  “Easy enough. We head to the wedding mecca and have Lydia, Pearl, and Gia sign off on our marriage.”

  Chelsea let out a laugh that warmed his heart. “It’s a good thing you’re related to everyone.”

  “Yep, or you’d still be planning a wedding,” he said with a wink.

  As expected, all of the ladies were at their stores. Gia and Sunshine, the young woman who floated between the stores as an associate, were stocking the shelves with the new wares Gia had brought back from her most recent trip to Lucca, Italy. And Pearl was helping a new bride find the perfect dress. Lydia was finalizing plans for Pearl and Tyson’s wedding reception.

  Chelsea had argued with him to use the wheelchair, but he wanted to show off. He wanted to let them know he hadn’t been broken.

  Gia had been the first to rush him, though carefully. She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. A month ago that would have done him in. There were times he was sure Dane would have screwed it all up with Gia and he would have won. In fact, now that she was kissing his cheek, he felt nothing but sisterly love for her. Who would have known there was a bigger plan in the works?

  Pearl wasn’t as anxious to congratulate him, hobbling around on crutches. She had a more motherly approach, which had included her scolding him. That, he’d expected.

  Lydia sat with them at a small table in the corner of the event center where she had notebooks and paper strung out.

  “You don’t know a D.J. do you?” she asked, as she cleared a place on the table.

  Russell shook his head. “No. Can’t say that I do.”

  “The busier we get, the more people I need in my contact list. Keep your ears open.”

  “Sure will,” he said, with a grin on his lips. “We need you to sign this.” He pushed to paper across the table toward her.

  “Ah! And we’re official,” she said, after looking over the license and signing it. “Thanks for letting me be part of it.”

  “Thanks for not turning me down at one in the morning.”

  She laughed. “Who else would have thought to put a wedding together in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve? I couldn’t tell you no.” She leaned in over the table. “Are you going to honeymoon?”

  Chelsea shrugged. “We haven’t talked about it. Right now isn’t the right time.”

  “I understand. I hope that there will be a time for you.”

  “There will be.”

  They thanked her and returned to the county office to file their official marriage license.

  Chelsea felt free as they drove home. She was officially Chelsea Walker. It was an absolute dream come true. Russell took her hand as they started down the long dirt road back to the Walker Ranch.

  “Are you happ
y, Mrs. Walker?”

  She shifted a quick glance his way, and smiled. “I’m very happy.”

  “Everything will be normal soon. I promise.”

  She chuckled. “I have a feeling nothing will ever be normal with you, and that’s okay.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because we are both a little hot headed.”

  “I’m hot headed,” he said. “You just like to pick fights.”

  “Me? I don’t pick fights. You…” She shook her head and laughed. “See, it’s always been like this. Since we met, we’d argue over everything.”

  Russell reached his hand to her thigh and rubbed it sending an electric pulse straight through her. “We fight, but damn, we know how to make up,” he reminded her, with his voice filled with heat.

  She slapped at his hand. “I’m driving.” She gripped the steering wheel with both hands and let out a long breath. “I suppose we’ll need our own place soon. Your mother is sure to tire of our arguments.”

  “Or our making up,” he joked.

  “Russell!”

  They both laughed as Russell leaned over the center console of the car so that his lips were poised at her ear. “You know what I hear?” His breath was warm against her skin. “We’re going to have a lot of babies.”

  Chelsea slowed the car as they came to a grove of trees, and she pulled off the road and into them. Parking the car, she turned toward him and took his face in her hands.

  “Do you still have all the same moves?” She asked.

  Russell lifted a brow. “Are you saying they were good? I’m afraid to answer this question.”

  She eased back. “Why?”

  “If I say yes, I’ll assume you think my moves are old and boring. If I say no, it goes two different ways. Either I’ve lost it, and I’m no good. Or, you’re digging, to find out with whom I’ve added more moves.”

  Now her brow raised. “I don’t assume you haven’t had any other women since I left you. Men cure heartbreak with sex. I know that.”

  “Not all of them do.”

  “Right.” She narrowed her gaze. “What I was saying, was that the moves you had were pretty great. The car is a bit more confined than the bed or cab of a pickup, but I say we see what we can do.”

  “You’re suggesting we have sex in the car on the only road toward the house?”

  She laughed a sexy, sinister laugh. “I was until you pointed that out. We have a toddler now. When are we going to get another moment?”

  His eyes grew wide. “I’ll meet you in the back seat.”

  ~*~

  No one had driven on the road to or from the house in the half hour they had sex in the back seat of Chelsea’s car. It had been quick, but Russell was just damned happy he’d functioned at all.

  He’d be surprised if his mother didn’t call him out right away. Both of their cheeks were pink, and the grins they wore told an entire tale, he thought.

  As soon as they walked through the door, they heard the sound of giggling, and running feet headed toward them. Lucas ran toward the door, and Chelsea scooped him right up.

  “Where’s daddy’s ride?”

  “In the car, and he should be using it,” she added. “He’s trying to walk.”

  His mother turned the corner from the kitchen and stared at him, and then called for his father. “Everett, you have to see this.”

  He came from within his office. “They’re letting you walk?”

  “I’m moving up my own therapy,” he said.

  Chelsea shook her head. “He’s going to hurt himself is what he’s doing. But I’ll admit, he’s doing pretty good.”

  “Of course, I am,” Russell gritted his teeth and bore the pain shooting through his arms from the crutches. “Now, everyone move. I’m headed to the sofa.”

  Lucas ran ahead and jumped on the tricycle that Santa had brought him. He zoomed around the rooms as he did the first day, and Russell grinned as he made his way to the sofa. He never thought he’d long for the sounds of a child playing, but at the moment, they seemed to be making him feel much better.

  “Get situated,” Chelsea ordered as she helped him lower to the sofa. “Prop your leg up. I’m going to get you some pain meds and some water.”

  He reached for her. “Can we do without the pain meds? Can’t I just have a Tylenol?”

  “Seriously. I see the pain on your face. You’re overdoing it.”

  “Please.”

  She growled. “Fine. But you're stubborn.”

  “Did you ever expect anything different?”

  She let out a sigh. “Not really. I’ll have Lucas play something quieter too.”

  “No need. He’s not bothering me at all.”

  In time, he figured, the look of surprise would leave her face when he said he didn’t mind things that Lucas was doing. He enjoyed every moment he was around, and he looked forward to having more children with her.

  Anyone who knew the circumstances of their relationship would say it was crazy. Certainly, he’d thought that a few times too. They’d only been back in each other’s lives a few weeks, and now they were married and raising their son. But it didn’t seem crazy. It seemed right.

  Chelsea came back with a glass of water and his Tylenol. “I’m going to take a shower. Your mom is in the kitchen making dinner. She said a nurse came to check on you when we were out.”

  “I didn’t think they’d send a nurse since I had my appointment today.”

  “Those are my thoughts, too. Your mom said she didn't seem concerned that you weren't there. She was more interested in the house. Your mom showed her around. She also checked your medications.” She handed him the pills. “Maybe they sent her because they released me from my duties.”

  “It’s okay, Chels.”

  “I know.” She took a deep breath. “Is Lucas okay to play between you two?”

  “He’s fine. Go. Take a few moments to yourself.”

  “I love you,” she said, bending to give him a kiss.

  “I love you too, wife.”

  She smiled as she pulled away. “I like that title.”

  Chelsea ran the water in the shower and undressed. She ran a brush through her hair and scrolled through her playlist on her phone to find something to listen to. For twenty minutes, she wanted to shut out the world and be alone with the water and her music.

  When she stepped into the shower, the music wasn’t quite loud enough. She reached her hand out and turned up the volume. As she slid back under the water spray, she missed Phillip’s text.

  Dominic Cleary skipped out on his parole.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Russell lay on the sofa with his leg propped up, and Lucas was zipping back and forth with his police sirens blaring. It wasn’t peaceful, but it was grand.

  Every few laps, Lucas would stop, dismount, and run to check on him before heading back out on his police tricycle to save the world.

  Russell closed his eyes and had nearly dozed off when he heard the doorbell, causing him to prop open an eye.

  His mother scurried to the door, Lucas right behind her. She seemed to have everything under control.

  He closed his eyes and muted the voices he could hear at the door.

  A moment later he heard Lucas scream, and something crashed to the floor. Then it was silent. Lucas wasn’t screaming. He opened his eyes, but no one came back through the hallway or the living room.

  Russell sat up. He could hear the sound of a car speeding away down the dirt drive.

  He looked out the window to see a silver sedan kicking up dust.

  “Mom? Mom!” He hollered, then reached for his crutches. “Lucas?”

  No one was answering.

  He pulled himself up, secured the crutches under his arms, and took a few steps. He was wobbly. Then he knew why. Chelsea had given him those damn pain pills after all. They weren’t Tylenol. Did she mean to do that?

  The world grew fuzzy. He’d never reacted to the pills quite like this.
He took a few more steps, and the room began to spin.

  Pushing on, he made it to the front door. His mother was on the floor. There was blood on her head, and his gun was right beside her.

  The world now spun out of control, and darkness began to take his vision.

  Chelsea turned off the shower and wrung her hair out with her hands. Seriously, she’d needed that. Sex in the car and a hot shower, that was her idea of letting the world slip away.

  She took her time to dry off and use some lotion Gia had given her from her store. It smelled so beautiful.

  She combed through her hair and decided to let it air dry. Looking at her limited wardrobe, she pulled out a pair of jeans and then looked through Russell’s clothes. He had an ARMY T-shirt in his drawer, and with a smile, she slipped it on.

  How sexy would he think that was, she wondered.

  For a moment she realized how quiet the house had become. Perhaps Lucas had fallen asleep on the sofa with Russell. That would be a picture to start a scrapbook with.

  She went back into the bathroom to pick up her phone.

  When Chelsea opened the bedroom door, she could smell something burning in the kitchen. It wasn’t like Glenda to burn anything. She hurried in and noticed that whatever was on the stove was left unattended and fried.

  She turned off the stove and moved the pot. “Glenda? Lucas?”

  She looked out the back window, but they weren’t there. Afraid she might have awakened Russell, she walked through the dining room to the living room, but he wasn’t on the sofa and his crutches were missing. Lucas’s tricycle was abandoned in front of the Christmas tree.

  “Russell? Glenda?” Her heart rate began to hammer in her chest. She thought she’d check upstairs.

  Quickening her step, she hurried to the front hall to go upstairs and stopped cold when she saw both Glenda and Russell laying by the front door.

  The scream she let out resonated in her head. Russell was in a crumpled heap on the floor, and Glenda was bleeding from the head, and there was a gun to her side.