Second Chances (32 page)

Cade shook his head and gave one la
st pleading glance to his friend. He hated asking this of him, but it was the only way they’d understand why he had to do this. Even then, after what those boys had been through, it might not be enough to keep from dying at the hands of his own family. Not that he didn’t deserve it.

Gregory cleared his throat and leaned back against the window sill. “I cam
e to care about Gabriella very much during the time I spent with her.” No longer noticing any of the people in the room, he retreated into his own private hell and pulled a worn, blue length of ribbon from his pocket, rubbing it between his fingers as he relived his own personal nightmare. After a long silent moment he forced the words from his lips. “She’s one of the kindest, strongest women I’ve ever known, but she’s not the only reason I will hunt Lucien to his grave.” He fingered the ribbon, silently braiding it through his fingers then pulling it free. After a few more tense moments he schooled his features, tucked the frayed length back into his pocket and pegged Grey with his signature icy stare. “He took my daughter.”

Grey visibly blanched at the pure hatred that spilled from the
retired Marshal’s eyes. He swallowed against the knot in his own throat as he and Gregory came to a complete and total understanding. At least he thought he understood the man, until Gregory continued. He soon learned there were some furies in life he hoped he’d never experience or understand.

“She was sixteen.” Gregory stopped, looking for a moment as though he would puke, but the moment passed within his next breath
, his cold and calculated determination falling into place like an iron shield. “He took her and sold her to the highest bidder and I want Hector’s records so I can track down every piece of scum that ever laid a hand on her and rip the skin from their bodies, piece by piece, then feed it to them before I tear out their hearts with my bare hands and send their souls back to the pits of hell that spawned them.”

“Dad…I….this…”

“I know this is hard, Grey.” Josiah stopped his oldest son before he could open the driver’s door to his truck. “The boy’s will be
fine. Me and your fathers will take Cade and go get them. Take your brothers to see Claira.”

Grey’s head snapped up and an unfamiliar anger filled his veins.
He hadn’t forgotten the part his dad’s had played in this. “Don’t you mean
Gabriella
?” They knew about this, and he’d be damned if he was going to be manipulated any further into caring about her. “I think your match making days are over, old man.”

Grey reached for the
door handle again but Josiah grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “You listen here, boy. I may have screwed up by not getting more details from Cade before I agreed to this—God forbid we help our own around here—but I’ll be long dead and in the grave before you get by with disrespecting me.”

It only took one slight glance at his dad to reco
gnize the error of his ways. Grey released his death grip on the door handle. He might be getting up in age but no doubt his dad could and
would
still kick his ass. “Yes, sir.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and leaned against the door. “Sorry.”

“Listen, son.” His anger
gone with a breath, Joe cuffed Grey’s arm and pulled him to lean against the truck bed. “I know what you went through with Sarah. I never told this to anyone but, I was there that morning she died.”

Grey looked over
and saw a slight tremble in his dad’s hands. “What?”

Joe nodded. His arms stretched out over the top rail of the bed, he bowed his head toward the ground and kick
ed at the back tire. “I drove over early that morning to help your brothers weld up one of the stock tanks that had sprung a leak. When I heard dishes crashing and you yelling at her I just froze outside the door.” Joe stood back to his full height and turned to look at Grey. “I know what it’s like to say things you don’t mean and not be able to take them back, son, but it’s time you let that shit go.”

All the air left Grey’s lungs as the memories came flooding back. He thought telling his brother’s was hard. Knowing that his father
’s knew what a bastard he’d been was too much.

“Hell, I let this go on long enough.
Too long.” Joe tossed his head and spit in the dust.  “It’s not your fault she died, Grey. These things happen, shit happens, every day; to good people. Sarah lied to you, to all of us. She didn’t deserve the things you said to her, but you didn’t deserve to be lied to, either. It don’t make neither right nor wrong. It just is.” He grabbed Grey by the back of the neck and held him at arm’s length. “Things might be screwed up right now, Greyson, but the life that woman has brought to this family is worth fighting for. She’s worth fighting for. Don’t try to undo one mistake by making another. Take your brothers and go get this thing with her straightened out.”

Grey fought for each breath as his dad’s words hit him l
ike a sledge hammer to the gut. Nothing felt worse than the guilt over what he’d said to Sarah that day, except knowing that his father had known all this time. “Why?” He shook his head as he remembered all the times since that day his dad had treated him with nothing but love and respect. He hadn’t deserved either. “Why didn’t you say anything? I needed my ass kicked. You raised me to be better than that.”

Joe released
his son and removed his hat, pushing his sweaty, greying hair back with a trembling hand. When he looked at Grey and all he had become, his heart swelled with pride and ached with regret that he hadn’t told him the truth sooner. He could see the shame and humiliation written plain as day in his green eyes; eyes that reminded him so much of himself. Clearing the sob from his throat before he completely castrated himself and started balling like a baby, he plopped his hat back onto his head and gave his son a wavering grin. “Because you are your father’s son, Grey. I knew you’d punish yourself far worse than any ass whoopin’ I could give you. It’s my fault you’re still all screwed up about it, though. I didn’t realize I’d let it go on for so long.”

Grey swallowed hard and forced back his own pussy tears.
“Goddam, dad. You’re going to make me cry if you keep that shit up.” He took of his own hat and wiped his face and forehead into the crook of his arm. “Nothing’s your fault. I screwed up. I’m dealing with it, but this thing with Claira….” Grey shook his head. Claira. Gabriella. He didn’t even know what name to call her by. Fear, anger, love, lust, betrayal, all swirled together creating a confusion Grey was helpless to fight as it ate up his mind and thoughts like a cancer. “I can’t think about that, about her, right now, dad. Matt and Mason can go, but I just need some time, dad. I need to see my boys. Know they’re okay.”

Joe didn’t push him any further, but didn’t give him any slack either. “I’ll ride with you to Hanna’s then I’ll drop you off at the hospital on the way back home.”

Grey shook his head and started to argue but the sound of his dad Jake’s voice yelling from inside the house had them both running from the truck and up the porch steps inside three seconds. “What’s going on?” Grey stumbled through the screen door and nearly took out Joe’s knee when Joe plowed over him to get to the source of all the noise.

“Get my phone out
of my pocket and speed dial number four.” Nate told Mason as Grey and Joe rounded the door frame to see him holding Hazel in his arms. She was as white as a sheet of ice and holding her fist against her chest. “Tell Dr. Pendercast to meet us at the hospital. You’re mamma’s having another heart attack.”

“Another? What the hell?
When was the first one?” Mason grabbed the phone as Matt cleared the hallway and held the front door open for them.

Nate blew through
the doorway and cleared the steps in two long strides. “Stop asking questions and just do it!”

Mason dialed frantically
as their Uncle Cade, Deputy Marshal Gregory, Grant Kendal and the Sheriff preceded Grey, Joe Matt and Jake out the front door. Sheriff Long called dispatch to notify the hospital and let them know that he was giving them an escort into town since it was quicker than waiting for an ambulance.

Four pick-up trucks, a full size blazer and a trail of dust a half mile high followed the Sheriff’s car down the long gravel driveway and onto the two-lane that lead
into town. Mason sat in the back seat of Grey’s truck with his eyes closed, praying like he’d never prayed in his life for a convoy of cowboys to sprout wings and fly. No one said a word as the road passed under their tires like a treadmill going nowhere and the sounds of the distant siren from the patrol cruiser filled the cab. They couldn’t lose their momma. No matter how bad things had gotten, nothing they’d gone through in the last week could have prepared them for this.

*
********************

Blood seeped through the cotton bandages and stained the pale yellow hospital gown Claira held to her shoulder.
Finding a pair of not-too-dingy nurse’s scrubs in an abandoned waste bin had been luck. Changing into them with her arm practically taped to her chest had been nearly impossible. The pain was nauseating, nearing intolerable. She feared she’d pass out at any moment if she didn’t find a place to hide and catch her breath.
Some escape artist you’ve become.
She didn’t have time to lose it now. She didn’t know how, but she knew Lucien was there, in the hospital. She’d awoken to find the air around her had taken on a sudden, slimy chill she’d long ago associated with him.

After
the last nurse had come to check on her she’d yanked out her IV—which hurt like crazy and was so much messier than they showed on those hospital scenes in the movies—then she’d spied her cell phone lying next to the room phone on the table by to her bed. Thank God for small miracles. She didn’t waste any time snatching it up and darting out of her room and down the hall, her head hung low to shield her face.

Turn after turn she found herself lost in a maze of double doors and identical rooms with an elevator nowhere in sight. Glancing over her should
er as her legs carried her farther into a maze of confusion, pain sliced through her shoulder as she was struck by what she could only guess was a Mack truck. She heard someone mumble
‘sorry’
as she spun off an empty gurney and stumbled a few feet further down the hall. Black edges crept into her field of vision. Her legs were numb but she could tell by the way the lights above moved within the blackening sea that she was still moving.
Have..to..hide. Keep going.
Running through what felt like molasses, her eyes darted from side to side. Every metal object took on a shiny halo as her vision blurred further. Desperate not to pass out, she grabbed onto the only object that made its way into the gathering darkness that surrounded her.

Relief flashed briefly through her veins
when the silver door handle turned. She fell into the darkness beyond the door and it closed behind her with a soft click. Rolling into a ball, everything but the pain disappeared as she forced air into her lungs.
Breathe, damn it!
She could hear Matt’s voice in her head and pictured him hovering above her showing her what she needed to do. After what she was sure was only minutes, but could have been hours, she began to notice small slivers of soft light surrounding her. She could feel the cold from the tile floor seeping into her bones. Sweat coated her skin and the pain in her chest and shoulder had gone from searing to a burning ache.

Careful to only move her head, she glanced around the dark room and noticed a metal desk and chair and a thin bookcase full of books hugging one wall. A few frames
hung on the other but she couldn’t make out what, if anything, they displayed. She was in someone’s office. She ignored the ache in her joints as she reached into the front utility pocked of the scrubs and pulled out her cell phone. She turned on the power and waited, breathing through the pain, as her phone went through the usual start-up routine. Once her contacts were displayed she found the name of the only person she knew could help her, pressed the send icon and hoped he would answer.

“Gregory.” Daniel Gregory’s
voice barked in her ear and a sudden rush of adrenaline flooded her veins. She jerked to a sitting position causing a loud, pain-filled groan to escape. “Gabriella? Gabby is that you?”

Unable to get the words past her lips she nodded but quickly realized that wouldn’t help her. “Yes,” she croaked, pushing back the sob inside her that ached for release. “Daniel, he’s here,” she whispered. “Lucien is here.”

An odd mixture of ice and lead poured over Grey as he heard Gregory shout her name. Cold fear gripped his chest. His legs felt weighted to the pavement. He forced himself to move as he followed the Marshal through the hospital parking garage, in through the emergency room doors and down the hall to a huge bank of elevators. “Is it Claira? What’s going on? Is that her? Is she okay?”

“Stay here, Grey.” Grant pushed him back as one of the elevator doors opened and they stepped in. “
Stay with your family and tend to your mother.”

“Like hell!” Grey pushed his way back through the closing
door and pinned Grant and Gregory with a threatening stare. “What the
hell
is going on?”