“No! I-I met him one night after I went to see her about calling Cleo to see reason and come home. I swear she didn’t know. I went over and she laughed at me and told me to do my own dirty work. Dave was there.”
Okay, good. Good. Jesus, I think, blowing out a silent breath, that was too close. Thank God for Ginger’s belated conscience or I’d have had to find a spot to dump three corpses.
“Okay. Dave. Let’s talk about Dave. Describe him.”
“Big, h-he’s really b-b-b-big, and he has a tattoo of a skull on his neck.”
“More.”
“He, uh, he was shot when he tried to get to her the second time. In the shoulder, the left one I think. I took him to a place where they take money under the table in exchange for forgetting your name.”
Yeah, too bad the asshole didn’t get sepsis and die. Save me the trouble of finding his ass.
“Where is he? And before you even think of lying, you little shit, I will warn you that I don’t mind killing. I went to Afghanistan; I served for over a decade. Killing is easy for me after the shit I had to do.”
Okay, that isn’t true. I am not a monster, after all, but this scum doesn’t need to know that. My threat works though, and I hear him swallow before his eyes go big.
“He…he’s going to make a try for her. We had a deal. He’ll risk prison for shooting her if the price is right. After Daddy went to his last doctor’s appointment and…and they told him to get his affairs in order, I got desperate. I told him to do it today before the old man calls her. He’s dying. He wants to make peace with her before…before he dies.”
“You little asshole!”
I do hit him this time, hard enough to knock his ass out and throw him over my shoulder to start running.
I’m dialing my phone as my legs eat up the distance for the bar where Josh can hold him and call the cops. When I get voicemail, I know that I may not make it.
***
Cleo
“Young lady, I have known you since you were in diapers. I will thank you to stop yelling at me and keep a civil tongue. Why, the negative changes in you are just appalling, and I will not tolerate this lack of respect. Poke your finger at my chest one more time and I will arrest you for assaulting an officer of the law.”
“You sniveling little toad,” I huff, vibrating with rage as the sheriff stands, glaring down at me.
I’m fuming, and rightly so, because after waiting an hour to see the little idiot and incurring glares from half the force—more like farce, if you ask me—he very kindly told me that my case was cold, on the back burner, as he had better things to do with his precious time than look for kids who were likely drunk and joyriding.
I have never in my life heard such tripe and despite my own desperate insistence at a very similar notion—we’ll forget that for now, or I’ll likely lose steam and start bawling—I am just offended beyond bearing that they care so little about my near death as to not even bother to make a case.
The freaking file has one page in it. One! And that’s not even complete since no one bothered to take my statement or have me sign anything.
Now see, I am just pissed right now, livid, and ready to risk jail to put this idiot in his place.
“Don’t you dare insult me, you fat-ass, sniveling, little sloth. You haven’t bothered to even file a case you’re so useless. When I leave here, I am calling someone, I don’t know who yet, but I will report your negligence and see you removed from office. You spent two hours last week getting a fucking cat out of Mrs. Pen’s gutters, but someone shoots at mousey little Cleo and you can’t be bothered to get off your lard-riddled ass to investigate? Fine! Let’s see how the authorities feel about your lack of work, period!”
I’m yelling, though thankfully not drilling his chest any longer, and then only because King has one hand while Oak has the other, or else I couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t do violence to this pig.
“You little bitch.”
“Watch it now, son. I may not want to go to prison all that bad, but that won’t stop me from snapping you like a twig, fat ass or not,” King threatens.
I feel some pleasure when the pig steps back and goes pale, though it’s not all I was hoping for, considering I’ve just been shifted off to the side as always.
“Come on, King, he’s not worth it. I’m not even surprised if you want to know the truth. It’s not that I’m the problem here, it’s them. They’re all so incompetent that I thank God Mayberry has a zero-percent crime rate or we’d all be dead.”
I turn and walk away without a second glance, flipping them all the bird before slamming out of the doors and back into the afternoon sunshine.
“Cleo! Cleo, wait.”
My grimace, and the way my heart sinks when I hear Daddy yelling for me and turn to see him shuffling our way, is very telling, but I push that aside because we still have unfinished business and, all things said and done, he’s my father.
I owe him an apology as well, and by goodness, I will give it even if it makes my tongue turn to ash just thinking of it.
“Cleo.”
“It’s okay, King. I need to speak to him, and then we can go home.”
Daddy reaches me in a few more strides, and I almost swallow my tongue when he grabs me into a hug and squeezes me hard.
“Oh, thank God I got to you. You have to listen to me, Cleo. I’ve been meaning to tell you this for some time, but with my stubbornness and the way that young man of yours refuses to let me near you, I’ve been remiss. I-I’ve been to the specialists in the city and…and I’m sick, Cleo.”
All the anger and resentment I felt disappears in an instant when he says those words. I’m right back to the start with my wanting to fix things and please him as I look at him and take in the dull cast to his eyes and the sickly pallor that I hadn’t noticed before.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask shakily, slumping back when I feel King’s arm come around me for support.
“I have a brain tumor, Cleo, but…that’s not why I’m desperate to talk to you. Dammit, I’ve been so busy treating you poorly that I never took notice of Garth until it was too late. Cleo, that boy isn’t right in the head. I heard him talking to someone on the phone this morning, and I think he told him to kill you. I think Garth is paying some lowlife to get you out of the way so that he can inherit everything when I’m gone.”
King stiffens at that, and I have to own to my mind blanking when he finishes with a gasp. Oak, who is actually quite kindly, you’d never believe one time he—
Stop! Do not try to distract yourself because you don’t like what you’re hearing.
“What?”
“Oak! Get the truck right now. Cleo, let’s get you back inside the station in the meantime,” King barks, pulling at me as Oak starts running for the corner where his truck is parked.
I’m not responding very well to this, and I know it as I feel him tug at my hand. My legs are numb and sluggish when I force them to start moving, only I’m a little late in my reactions.
I hear someone yell, Daddy I think, and turn in time to see Dave, Ginger’s cousin, running toward me, his arm up and pointing a gun directly at me. I know it’s too late for me even as I go into flight mode and try to run. He’s too close, and it’s all happening so fast that all I can do is close my eyes so as not to see that bullet coming my way.
I don’t want the last face I see to be Dave’s—not that ugly, violent sneer or the fear I see in his eyes. I picture Jericho instead, but instead of past events, I picture what we could have had if not for this moment.
I see his eyes going wet and so filled with joy on our wedding day when I repeat my vows and promise to be his for all time. I see him laughing and swinging me around in his arms when I tell him that we’re going to have a baby. I see him changing diapers with a look of determination on his green face.
I see him old and gray, holding my hand as we watch our children and grandchildren play on the lawn of the house we were going to buy.
I’m never going to have those moments, and that hurts so much that I feel myself smile sadly as tears spill over and stream down my cheeks.
And then nothing.
“Cleo!”
Chapter Seventeen
Jericho
I’m running on nothing but desperation as I throw myself from the truck and head for my girl, my heart in my throat as I see a man rushing toward them, his gun drawn and pointed right at her.
I’m not going to make it. I know it the way I know that when that bullet tears through her, my heart will stop and crumble to ash. People always talk about near death experiences and I used to laugh at that shit. I’ve been there so many times it’s a miracle to think that I am alive when I should be long dead and buried.
Never once in all that time, not one of the times when I should have bit the big one, have I ever seen my life flash before my eyes. Not once, not even a sparkle of the times I had with the guys or even when I got awarded for bravery.
I always just kept going, and maybe that’s why I did survive, because I didn’t let go for a second.
It happens now though. I see Cleo. Cleo as she sleeps beside me, her smaller body tucked into me as she snores softly, daintily into my ear. Cleo scowling at me as I teach her how to narrow her eyes to give a real stinker of a glare. Cleo helping her kids, no matter how surly they are with her…
Mostly I see her as she was the day she told me she loves me. That day was our best, the best in far too few days to even make up for that fact that I am now losing her.
“Cleo!”
I shout not because I think I have a hope in hell, but it’s because if she’s going to be taken from me, I want her to know that I’m here, that I didn’t leave her, that she’s my everything.
Maybe it’s wrong that I’ve given up already. I can’t say, but I can say that when the boom sounds and I see Dave’s face explode, that it is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.
I reach her in five strides and grab her up into me, my body shaking so hard it’s a miracle I don’t drop her.
“Peaches. Peaches.”
I can’t form any other words but her name as I shove her into my neck and let the tears of relief flow free. She’s okay. I don’t know how; I’m just grateful and so overwhelmed that I can’t move an inch.
“He…oh, Jericho. It was Garth.” She sobs loudly, clinging so hard I feel the collar of my shirt dig into the skin at my nape.
“I know, Peaches, I know. I got him.”
People are yelling all around us and rushing onto the sidewalk as I hold Cleo close and close my eyes, thanking God and whoever pulled that trigger for this second chance. For Cleo. For me, because I’d have been done if that gun had gone off, and that’s a fact.
I’m not overreacting or trying to be melodramatic. I think I’d have just given up and died of grief.
“Come on, man.”
I look up at King and take in the chaos around us, not caring about a thing right now but this woman in my arms and the bullet that just saved my life.
Looking back, I nod once in acknowledgement and vow to repay the debt if I ever get the chance.
***
Cleo
I’m so excited as I grab the breakfast tray and tiptoe into our bedroom. I’m giggling like a loon as I set it down on the dresser, grab the box and jump on Jericho, my hand going for his face as he starts awake and looks up at me with a soft smile.
“Hey, baby, what’ got you so excited? It’s Saturday, don’t you usually sleep in on Saturdays?” he mumbles, his blue eyes groggy but lusty as he palms my butt and pulls me into his morning erection.
That almost side tracks me, almost, because darn it, I hate missing any opportunity to get naked with Jericho and have my wicked way with him. Since the shooting here weeks ago, I haven’t done a thing but appreciate every day that we have together.
I did resign from the library, something that made him really happy since he’s a caveman who still thinks man should look after woman. Or whatever, you know what I’m saying.
I’m okay with that, seeing as I don’t want to waste a moment of my time on working when he’s home from his work. He tried really hard just two weeks ago, a week after the shooting, to cancel his job or send King as a replacement, but I went near violent on him and threatened to move in with Daddy and nurse him in his sick bed until he came to his senses.
Daddy is really sick, and it breaks my heart to tell you that he has a tumor that is inoperable and will take him in the next year, if we’re lucky and he manages to hold on that long.
I’ve made my peace with it though, and made my peace with him because, no matter what, he’s my dad and I love him, and forgiving him his shortcomings as a father is the right and kind thing to do.
King is still blaming himself for my almost near-death experience—my third one in just a couple weeks—but I told him to get over it. I’ve have my three bad moments, so I’m due only good now.
That mollified him a little as did my assertions that nothing ever happens without reason. I was meant to be there at that time so that the mystery gunman could save me.
I don’t know why, only God does, but Lenny and I are positive it’s his atonement for something, and who am I to deny him his chance at atonement just to save myself nightmares and some residual panic?
And Garth? The sheriff almost shit a brick when he just vanished. Some say he ran when he found out his plot had been foiled, but I know better, no matter what Jericho wants me to believe. I see King grinning sometimes, and I just know the men had something to do with his disappearance. Not that I care. I prayed for his soul and I forgave him just as I should. The rest is up to God. What I did discover—after Daddy let me raid his room and I found his journal—was horrifying. Lydia’s fall down the stairs, something that was ruled an accident since she was presumed to be suffering from undiagnosed diabetes, wasn’t an accident at all. Garth pushed her when she threatened to send him back to his biological father for stealing from her purse.
Anyhow, back to me and how I am never, ever taking one moment with Jericho for granted. See, when I had my flashes—all those moments that I wanted but didn’t think I would get—I realized that I would do anything to have them now.
Jericho doesn’t want to wait on babies? I’ll go for the record and give him three or four in a row if I can. He wants a big house that I decorate and fill by spending his money? I’ll be the best little shopper wife in the state.
He wants dogs and cats and all that stuff? I’ll learn to like pets and even scoop the poop in the back yard. I’ll give him anything and everything he wants because I want those moments too, and now that I don’t take time for granted, it’s easy just to give in, let go and let God.
“Peaches? Not that I don’t love seeing you get that dreamy look on your face when your body is pressed to mine, but could you maybe not zone out when my hands are on your ass? It’s demoralizing to my dick.”
I laugh at his pout and lean in to kiss him sweetly, the kiss I never gave him before when we touched because he is just so darn handsome and sexy I can’t control myself.
Today is for romance and love though, so I do kiss sweetly and pour every ounce of my love into it, wanting him to feel it as well as hear it when I tell him.
“I love you so much, Jericho Evans. Sometimes I pinch myself to know that this isn’t a dream. I get so afraid that I’ll wake up and be back at my old house, in that perfectly fake little world and I’ll be alone again and cold in all the places where your love warmed me.”
“Aw, Peaches, that won’t ever—”
“I know it won’t, I do, I just can’t believe that I got so lucky when I walked into a dive bar, wearing hooker heels with my boobs spilling out.”
His grin and the way he waggles his brows after looking down at my boobs makes me giggle, but I sober quickly and cup his face in my hands, swallowing back the nerves that try to overtake me.
“I love you. When I thought I was going t
o die, I had this moment where time seemed to stop. I thought I’d see all the times we had together, maybe my mama before she died, just moments of my life all pieced together. I didn’t though. I saw you, just you, in these moments that I wanted so badly it hurt. I saw marriage, your face when we had babies, you loving me when we’re old and looking at our children and their children. I saw all that love, Jericho. And I want it. I need it. I need you.”
His eyes are bright as he looks up at me, and I feel my heart melt with an ache that is all for him.
“Jericho Evans, my beautiful soldier boy, would you please, please do this ex-mouse and completely head-over-heels woman the honor of marrying me?”
His shout as he pulls me close and kisses me is all the answer I need, and I feel one step closer to all the moments God spared me for.
“Peaches, you better never tell King you beat me to this, or I will never hear the end of it.”
“Deal, but I get to choose the ring.”
“Deal.”
Chapter Eighteen
The Watcher
“Angel, I will never understand what it is about us that you find so fascinating, but I am truly grateful that your creepy stalker ass is still watching over us.”
I chuckle at Lenny’s teasing and accept her thanks with silence, not acknowledging it because to do so would be to open up a part of myself that I can’t open if I want to continue my mission and survive it.
The honest truth, though, is that I don’t know if I want that. If I complete this mission, I’ll just be shifted onto another and another and another, and I’m so fucking tired of it all that sometimes I crave the finality of death.
All that keeps me from it is knowing that I have to keep going or the enemy will win. I can’t have that, for so many reasons. The most important one being the woman I used to love.
For her, I will keep my miserable heart beating, even knowing I will never see her again.
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 29
