Second Chances (29 page)

Stupid F
ucker stared blankly for a moment, then drew his arm up and aimed the revolver at his own bald head. Seemed the higher his blood pressure went the lower his brain cell count fell. Normally he’d help him out with a bullet, but easy didn’t seem to be on the agenda today.

“Don’t come any closer. I’
ll pull the trigger!” Stupid Fucker shouted. This is where stupid turned to crazy. He didn’t know
jack
about this guy, yet he was supposed to care if he pulled the trigger.
Whatever. I don’t have time for this
horse shit.

Grant
casually pulled his pistol around and raised it to Stupid Fucker’s face. His beady eyes nearly bugged out of his head and pushed his glasses off is gonzo nose. He was shaking now, violently, but still didn’t have his finger on the trigger. What was left of his pasty white coloring suddenly turned to a putrid green.
Yeah, you really shouldn’t play with guns.

“You’ve got until I finish this sen
tence to either pull that trigger or drop the gun, or I’ll blow your head off for you.”

A millisecond of silence passed
, followed by a deafening
crack
and Stupid Fucker hit the dirt, screaming like a goddamn girl. “You shot my hand off!”

Grant shrugged. “Sorry. I’ll aim better next time.”
It was a gamble, he knew. Fifty-fifty chance he was right the guy didn’t have the balls to pull the trigger. He shrugged. Not his life. Not his hand.
Stupid, fucking people.

Grant
cursed himself as he gathered Stupid Fuck’s legs. Pulling him to a sitting position, he secured the .38 and then tied off his bleeding stump with the guy’s belt. This was why it was easier to just kill the bastards. Now he either had to knock his sorry ass out and carry him back to the ranch or listen to him scream and whimper like a sniveling bitch the whole way back. He’d probably puke once or twice on the way, too. Before tucking his gun back into his waistband he stepped back and looked at the pussy, his screeching voice gaining an octave with every second that ticked by.
To hell with this!
Ten seconds later he had the quiet, overweight bastard flung over his shoulder as he headed back the way he came.

Five days!
Grey paced the sterile, horse stall sized waiting room the hospital called a family lounge. Five days and six fucking nights since he’d allowed himself to feel something,
anything
, and now his entire world was crashing in around him. This is what he’d been shutting out. This searing, gaping hole in his chest that ate away at his flesh, inch by inch, as the minutes ticked by with no news.

He’d thought time had slowed
down when he looked out his office window and saw Con, then Claira, fall from that dead bitch of a tree. Then gunfire erupted and it was like World War III on his ranch. That was nothing compared to this. Time stopped all together now. Every time he looked at the industrial sized clock on the waiting room wall, what seemed like hours had been mere minutes.

“What’s taking them so long?” Grey turned, focusing on the
green linoleum as it passed under his feet. He reached the end of another pace across the room and turned, stopping to look at the clock on the far wall again. He couldn’t do this anymore. “I’m going in there. Right. Fucking. Now!”

“Greyson, don’t.”
Hazel pulled him back from the door and stepped in front of him. “They are doing everything they can. You know it won’t help.”

Grey dug at his eyes with the heels of his hands and growled. “It’s been over an hour since she came out of surgery. Why can’t we see her?”

“Son.” Josiah came up behind his eldest son and clapped his big hands on his shoulders. “Let’s go outside and get some fresh air. I’m sure they’ll have everything ready for visitors when we get back.”

“I’m not leaving her, dad.” Grey shook him off and started to pace again. Pictures of Claira flooded his mind. Her lifeless body lying on the ground, her face pale white and dotted with drops of her blood
. “They said the bullet passed right through her shoulder. Why would they be taking so goddamn long if nothing else was wrong?”

Hazel patted his arm and turned him toward the row of chairs that lined the back wall. “Honey, they
also said she has a severe concussion from the fall. Give them time. Give her time. She’s been through a lot and her body needs to rest so she can heal.”

The waiting room door swished open and Grey jumped from the seat he’d just taken when Matt walked in carrying Connor
. Mason was right behind him with Car in his arms. “Daddy, Grey?” Con whimpered and reached toward him with his un-casted arm.

Grey reached out
, took him from Matt and cradled him to his chest as Con let out an exhausted sob. “It hurts, daddy.” Grey’s heart broke just a little as he tucked his head under his chin and held his youngest son tight to his chest, hoping to never feel that all-consuming fear of losing him again.

“I know, buddy. It will be better soon, I promise.” Grey stepped over to Mason and reached for Car. “Come here, little man.”

Car hesitated at first, but latched onto Grey’s neck and wrapped himself around his father. “I’m sorry, daddy. It was my fault. I told Con it would be a good idea to fly the airplane from the top of the tree.” Car leaned in and sobbed against Grey’s thick neck.

“But I wanted to do it!” Con protested though his hiccupping cries. “Please do
n…don’t be mad….mad at him, Daddy. It…it was my…fault….too.”

Grey’s knees nearly gave way from the pain of the sob he held back and he sank back down into one of the lounge chairs and hugged both
his boys. “I’m not mad, boys.” He was sure he’d be mad later, but now? Right now he was just grateful, and scared shitless.

Jake and Josiah huddled together in a whispered
conversation before Jake stepped over to their eldest son, knelt on his haunches in front of him and cupped his grandson’s little faces as he spoke to Grey. “Me and your mom are going to take them home with us. The police are still out at Falcon Ridge with Nate and your Uncle Cade, working things out. When they’re done we’ll go over and gather some of their things. Joe will stay here with you until one of us comes back with a fresh change of clothes for all of you.”

Grey tensed at first when Jake reached for his boys, unwilling yet to lose the feel of them, alive, and
safe in his arms. His mom quietly stepped over and placed a kiss on the top of his head and patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll take good care of our grandbabies.”

Moments later the room exploded in a cacophony of loud curses and growls as the McLendon men began to vent some of the anger they’d barely subdued in front of their mother and the twins. A loud thump broke through the chaos and Grey turned to see what was left of one of the chintzy coffee tables Mason had thrown against the wall. “
If that sonofabitch ever steps one foot outside a jail cell I’ll rip his throat out with my bare hands and feed what’s left of his sorry ass, goddamn carcass to the coyotes.”

Joe, Matt and Grey stared slack jawed at Mason. Ever the silent presence of calm and the self-appointed peace keeper of the entire McLendon clan, in a matter of
seconds their calm and collected Mason had come completely unglued. “I want every goddamn faculty member on that fucking school board fired! No, not fired. Gone! Completely gone! I’ll burn down every one of their goddamn houses and see to it
personally
that none of them ever step foot in this town again! And so help me
God
, if I
ever
hear that prick’s name uttered anywhere other than an obituary I’ll kill the sorry sonofabitch that dared to say it out loud, too!”

Matt was so
completely awestruck at his twin he jumped when the door swung open. Two strange men in suits strolled in just as another crash filled the room and a chair tumbled over from Mason’s direction. The men stopped in mid stride and everyone in the room paused to glance back at Mason. He ran his hands through his hair and turned away from them with a snarl on his lips.

The older of the two men cleared his throat
and offered his hand to Grey. “I’m detective Handleman. This is my partner, Detective Simms. We’re from the Boswick County Sheriff’s Department and we’ve been called in to assist your Sheriff on this case.”

Grey shook the man’s hand and Matt and Josiah followed suit. They looked over at Mason but didn’t make an attempt to greet him. “We have
Preston Dawes in custody now that….”

Mason
’s growl was almost animalistic as he lunged at the Detective. Grey and Joe stepped up to block his path and hold him back. Mason fought against their hold, reaching out to grab whatever handful of flesh he could get ahold of as both the Detectives stepped back from the shocking scene.

“
Uh, this isn’t such a good time.” Matt felt a strange but welcome sense of calm as he stepped past the Detectives and opened the door to usher them from the room. For the first time in his life he was the rational twin. Mason had lost his damn mind. He almost laughed at the odd thought. It made his skin itch a little but he almost liked the sudden switch. “Give us some time to process this for a bit. We’ll all still be here, and hopefully a little more…cooperative, tomorrow. Can you come back in the mornin’?”

“Mr. McLendon,” the younger Detective paused outside the door. “I’m sure you understand that it’s best if we get the details down while their still fresh.”

Matt pushed him down the hall toward his partner. “And I’m sure
you
understand if you go back into that room my brother will rip off your head and shove it up your ass, and I’ll be hell bent to help him.” So much for the calm and collected Matt. He shrugged and turned back toward the waiting room from hell.
Nice while it lasted
.

Three more agonizing hours passe
d before they allowed anyone into Claira’s room. Even then it was only one at a time.  Grey and Matt held back and let Mason go first, in hopes that seeing her would help him climb back into his own skin. They’d have never believed Mason was capable of such primal outrage if they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes. When he returned a short while later he was no less than broken.

The aching twist in Grey’s gut grew tighter as he slid quietly into the seat next to Claira’s bed. She loo
ked so fragile, more than usual. He couldn’t help but stare in awe as he wondered how such a tiny person wouldn’t just crumble into a million, unrecognizable pieces after taking a bullet like that. Thank God it didn’t hit anything vital. Thank God one of his boys hadn’t been hit. She’d saved their lives. All of them.

That sick fuck Dawes puked up a full confession even as Grant had
carried him up to the house and dumped his sorry, bleeding ass on the ground in front of one of the ambulances. He had a debt to pay to Grant, too.

Apparently,
somewhere in Dawes’ twisted mind, he believed they had somehow stolen Sarah from him. “It’s your wicked and corrupt witchcraft that made her stay with you! You filled her with your demon spawn and they killed her!” he’d shouted as they lifted him onto a gurney. “I’ll not let you corrupt another innocent woman.” He’d twisted and flopped on the gurney to look at Grey as they wheeled him toward the ambulance. “I’ll not let you! She’s mine!” Grey felt like vomiting, again, as he heard Dawes’ whiney voice in his head repeat on a constant loop.

Grant said that he’d spotted the
Stupid Fucker
slithering across the pasture. He’d gotten his rifle and climbed to the roof of the feed barn to scope him out, thinking he’d just caught a hunter poaching on their land. When he’d watched him set up and scope out their home he knew they were in trouble. Before he could climb down to warn anyone, the twins had begun to scurry up the tree and then all hell had broken loose. He couldn’t get a clear shot until Con had slipped down to the lower branch and by then it was too late. Claira took the bullet that had been aimed at his son.

Now, she was lying here, unconscious, tubes and wires snaking their way around her every limb. The doctor’s said her head injury caused her brain to swell and they were keeping her in a coma with medicine until the swelling went down. Now they were saying there was a chance, a small chance, she wouldn’t be the same Claira they knew. She might not remember them or what had happened. She could have brain dam…..No! Grey got up and paced to the other side of the room. He wouldn’t let himself even think it. No one knew what she was going through, locked away inside her own mind. She would be fine. And if she wasn’t, then they would take care of her and help her until she
was
fine. She was theirs, dammit, their woman! Their gift from heaven and he wasn’t giving her back!

Two days past and
the swelling had stopped. She was breathing on her own and they had removed a few of the more intimidating machines from her room. The men came and went on a constant rotation. At least one of their dads was always there. Josiah had gone in to sit with her a bit that first night. He was wiped when he came back into the waiting room and no one acknowledged the red rims around his watery eyes. Nate and Jake hung back with the rest of the family whenever they were there, always offering a strong shoulder if the men needed it. No one cried in front of the family but they had all shed a million tears between them when they were alone.