Long Ride (Riding with Honor) (13 page)

“That sounds good… I will see you around six at Carla’s house.  Try not to worry… it won’t be so bad
,” she offered.

“Yea… right.  As if it isn’t hard enough to talk about my feelings and shit… Carla cries over
everything
… good
and
bad,” he said quietly.

“Sometimes women cry when they are overly happy not just when they are sad
,” she explained.

“I know… Meredith does the same thing sometimes… and I’m learning to deal with that along with learning to share
my
feelings,” he muttered.

“For those of us that can’t paint… tears are our paint and our cheeks are the canvas
,” she said quietly.  She actually wished she was there to hug the young man… it was the first time in her life she’d ever felt anything maternal. 
Ever.

Silence filled the gap between New York and Florida until he finally closed the space by saying
, “That is some pretty deep shit there, Becca… but I think I actually get it.  I’ll see you at the house this evening.”

Upon disconnecting the call, Edna’s words floated through her mind

“I had hoped that all these things you’ve been doing for them was the start of you taking responsibility for all of them.  I won’t be around forever and thinking I had you to pass the torch to, somehow made it easier to accept.”

She had done just that for Chuck… she’d opened her mouth and Edna’s kind of
advice had come out.  Had Edna made a wise decision in choosing her to carry the torch?  She had thought the old woman was perhaps losing it a little in her older years. 

Maybe there was even more wisdom in Edna than she had imagined.  Could she do that…
champion
the rowdy bunch of men and women?  Filling Edna’s shoes was impossible but perhaps she could carry
some
of the woman’s self-imposed responsibility. 

The flight from New York to Florida
took twice as long as the flight from Florida to New York had.  She knew it was the excitement in the pit of her stomach at seeing them all again…
seeing him again
… two weeks had felt like a year. 

By the time the plane landed and she was able to get a cab from the airport she was ready to rush to his house…
to his arms
.  She had been kidding herself that her feelings for him had begun to dissipate over the past couple of weeks.

The cab dropped her off at a car rental place and after acquiring a vehicle for the next few days she
drove to the beach house.  After letting herself in the house she went into the master bedroom where she dropped off her bags. 

A sense of unease swept over her when she noticed the unmade bed.  Had she left it that way when she and Dickie had stopped by to check it over before she’d headed back to New York?

The unmade bed confirmed just how much of a distraction Dickie was to her.  She was always meticulous about closing up the beach house before heading back to New York.  There was nothing to be done for it now, so she took a shower to freshen up and then dressed for dinner with Chuck and Carla.

An hour later she pulled into Carla’s driveway
.  She had barely finished parking and stepping out of the car before Chuck was there wrapping her in a bear hug and lifting her up off her feet. 

After nearly winding her with his tight hug
, he set her back on her feet and released her just as Meredith approached.  The young woman was amazing… it was nearly impossible to tell she was missing a limb with the graceful way she moved and walked.

Another car turned into the driveway and she was surprised to see Nathan Patterson park next to where she stood.  Looking to Chuck she couldn’t help but appreciate his ear to ear grin. 
Was this an idea of how Dickie had looked at that age?

“We made friends
,” Chuck said, indicating Judge Patterson with a nod of his head.

Nathan approached and shook her hand as Chuck herded them inside.  It was wonderful to see the young man accepting his place in this family with Meredith beside him. 

Stepping in the front door she was greeted with a hug from Carla.  Carla’s two young sons, Matt and Ben, were finishing up their dinner as the group of adults entered the kitchen.

“Want some Zinfandel?” Chuck offered
, presenting a bottle of wine.  At her surprised look he said, “I’m working on being rich and snooty so I’ll fit in at the premiere party Daniel is organizing for my paintings.  It’s Lilly’s favorite so I had her pick up a bottle for me earlier.”

“Yes and thank you
,” she laughed. 

She had been to a premiere at a different art gallery once before and couldn’t help but giggle at the idea that Chuck would ever fit in with that crowd.  He stuck out like a sore thumb in an average crowd… with members of the upper class… the spotlight would be on him even if he wasn’t the star of the show. 

His zest for life separated him from most of the wealthy people she knew even more so than his looks did.

“I’m a clean plate club member
, Chuck… come and look!” yelled Ben, Carla’s six year old son.

Chuck checked out the little boy’s plate and then held out his fist which Ben bumped with his own.  “Great job
, buddy… you keep eating like that and you’ll be bigger than me by the time your Matt’s age.”

The two boys headed down to the basement to watch a television show
, leaving the adults alone.  Chuck and Carla worked side by side setting the food on the table while Meredith poured drinks for everyone.  Once they were all settled around the table she looked at Chuck and he gave a nod.

“Carla, do you remember that I messed up by not double checking the list of Chuck’s paintings the art gallery was planning to showcase?”
she asked.

“Yes…” Carla replied.

“Well… Chuck’s case wasn’t the only one I unintentionally messed up,” she began.

“What…what do you mean?” Carla said nervously.

“It’s not her fault…” Chuck interrupted. “I was being nosy the day you took the lasagna over to Dickie’s house.  Remember I came in as you were leaving?  I kind of saw a letter from your bank on the coffee table… sorry.  Becca didn’t tell me… she would never do that, otherwise her clients wouldn’t trust her… I was snooping.”

Carla’s face turned white
.  She glanced first at Becca and then to her father as if imploring them to prevent Chuck and Meredith from knowing what they already knew. 

“Oh Chuck…” s
he finally said with tears welling up in her eyes. “I don’t want you or Meredith to worry about that… I will figure out something.”

“Wait… there’s more
,” Chuck interrupted again.  Then, as if his nerves had gotten the better of him, he grabbed his wine glass and took a big gulp which resulted in a look of distaste replacing the look of fear on his face.

“I never wanted any of you to know.  Grandpa and I are working on how to take care of the problem… so whatever it is you
saw in that letter I don’t want you to worry.  I can take care of it,” Carla said, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

“No you
can’t
take care of it… because I already did.  I sold a couple of paintings and I paid off your house,” Chuck argued.

“What?”  Carla asked in disbelief.

“I am the man of the house and it’s my job to take care of my family… so I did.  Part of being a family is sharing your feelings and what is going on in your life right?  Well, I’ve been working on that, but the other part of being in a family is taking care of each other… isn’t that what you said, Carla?” Chuck asked.

“Yes…but…” Carla sniffed.

“Well I am trying to take care of
my
family… you, Meredith, Matt and Ben.  I’ve been homeless before plenty of times and I don’t want that for any of you guys.  This house is like my first real home, you know?” Chuck paused to rein in his emotions.

“
I want to
always
be able to come here… even after Meredith and I get our own house.  I want to bring our kids here… I want them to know what it’s like to have a grandparent... uncles… even cousins someday,” he continued.  “Don’t be mad… you promised that aside from breaking Meredith’s heart there was nothing you wouldn’t forgive me for.”

Becca
could feel the tracks of her tears and looking across the table she could see that Meredith was equally touched. 

Standing up Carla held out her arms to him and as he awkwardly tried to hug her, she gripped him tightly and said
, “Oh my sweet boy… there is nothing to forgive… never apologize for sharing your soul with other people and you
are
always welcome here.”

“What do you mean you can vouch for Roger?” Greg Sanders nearly shouted into his phone
. “He refused to provide an alibi which is the same as not having one…
now
he wants to provide one?” 
This could not be happening!

“I realize he’s by no means a model citizen but he’s actually got an alibi for both incidents… the first one he was in the hospital and this past one he was in county lockup for a different parole violation.  He’s going to get a couple of months for the probation violations but I just wanted you to know that the other charges just aren’t going to stick
,” Dustin Abrams replied. “I’m sorry, man.”

Dustin was the public defender assigned to represent Roger and unfortunately he was correct.  Even if Roger had hired someone to deliver the picture of Becca to the hotel
, without the delivery person willing to testify, it was a valid alibi and left plenty of reasonable doubt. 

Something about this whole thing just didn’t sit right.  His instincts told him he was missing something… he just wasn’t sure where to look.

“Thanks for letting me know,” he finally replied.

After hanging up with Dustin he glanced at his watch and noted that Becca was already in the air. 

After checking with his administrative sergeant about starting his vacation early, he went to his apartment to book a flight to Florida and pack.  It would be better to deliver the bad news to Becca in person rather than by phone… not to mention he could meet up with Bobby Jackson and see about getting the process started on the custom motorcycle he was looking to purchase from him. 

It was nearly nine o’clock at night when he finally made it to Becca’s beach house and he could only grin when he didn’t see any lights on…
she was probably with Richard Long.  He hadn’t missed for a second how hard Becca was trying to hide the fact that there was something between the two of them. 

Having seen the
telltale signs of a broken heart when she returned from Florida a couple of weeks ago, he had asked what happened and her only response had been that they were just too different.

Dickie was a good man with a strong sense of right and wrong.  He occasionally pushed the envelope but the man obviously adored Becca and that’s all that mattered to
Greg. 

He’d been secretly advocating for the man to win his sister’s heart.  She deserved someone who really loved her… rather than just wanting to control her like her ex-husband Brian. 

Using his key to the beach house he let himself in and headed upstairs to put his bag in the spare bedroom. 

Half
way up the stairs he heard a commotion.  Looking up, he was met with a ghost from the past who stood at the top, aiming a gun right at him.  He heard the shot, even with the silencer, before he felt it.  By the time his body finished the descent back down the stairs where he was able to move, it was too late and the man was on him.

Becca had enjoyed dinner and the conversation after Chuck’s confession to Carla.  Her heart felt light as she
drove to Dickie’s house.  Pulling into his driveway she knew right away he wasn’t home as no lights were on.  With no idea where he was or how long he would be gone, she opted to pen a note to him and close it in the screen door. 

I’m in town at the beach house.  I need to talk to you.  If you aren’t busy or have other plans for the evening and would like to join me, you are welcome to. 

Becca

After closing the note in the door she forced herself to drive away rather than chicken out and go retrieve the note back.  This would in no way aid her heart in healing but she could no more help it than she could keep from breathing.  She needed him… needed the life he had breathed into her heart, body and soul… way too much.

Parking in the driveway
of the beach house she noticed a car parked out front that appeared to be a rental.  Reaching in her purse she pulled out her cell phone and noticed a missed call from Greg upon turning it back on. 

He was probably panicked since she forgot to call him and let him know she’d made it to Florida safely.  She had her phone turned off since
her flight left New York.  Her mind was on one track… and Dickie was at the end of it.

She
discovered a text message from Greg as well stating he had decided to start his vacation early and was on his way to Florida.  She breathed a sigh of relief that she could now explain the empty vehicle.  Collecting her purse she headed into the house.

After setting her purse on the small table
inside the entrance she turned and closed the door.  She walked toward the kitchen which was further to the back of the house.

“Greg?” s
he said, stepping in the kitchen.

The man standing in the middle of her kitchen wasn’t Greg.  Fear seized her so thoroughly she couldn’t even scream. 
Where was Greg?
  She felt nauseous from the anxiety and worry that accompanied the fear.

“Hi
, Babe… miss me?” Brian asked, pointing a gun at her.

“Use that fear as a weapon toward your attacker rather than as a hindrance to you.”

“Where is Greg?” she asked quietly. 
Oh God please let him be ok.

“I ask the questions here
, Becca, not you!” Brian said angrily through clenched teeth. “Why don’t you have a seat at the table?  We need to have a talk.”

“Just t
ell me… is Greg still… alive?” she sobbed her nerves finally getting the better of her.

“He surprised me… I thought it was you finally getting home from your
date
.  I shot him on accident but he’s not dead… just wounded.  He’ll be fine… now go… sit… down,” Brian said, waving the gun to indicate the seat he wanted her sit in.

She feared walking past him to get to the table.  She feared his unpredictable temper and saying the one thing that would set him off.  She feared for Greg who was nowhere to be seen…
or heard.
 

Most of all she feared that Dickie would get home
to find her note and end up in this fresh hell right along with her just as much as she feared he
wouldn’t
find the note.

She slowly
walked to the table and gingerly sat down on one of the chairs.  Eyeing the backdoor, she noticed it was still locked.  If she managed to get free from Brian would it be better to get to that door and unlock it, or head to the front door that was already unlocked even though it was further away?  How had he managed to get in?  Why was he even here… after ten years of nothing? 
Why now?

“What is all this about
, Brian?” she asked.

“I’ve seen you with that man… and I have to tell you I don’t care for it one bit.  You are turning into a first class whore
, Becca, running around with trash like him.  Have you lost all sense of propriety, decency and self-respect?” Brian asked close to her ear causing her to jump.

He walked around so that he stood facing her with his back to the family room.  He frowned at her with that look that said he was disappointed in a choice
or a decision she’d made.  He propped his hip against the table and crossed his arms making sure the gun still remained aimed at her.

“I did a little dating myself after the divorce was finalized and let me tell you… it’s not like it was when you and I first started going out
,” he said. “I even had one I thought might work out… but then I came to my senses.  She just wasn’t you.  When I figured that out I came looking for you so we could sit down and work this thing out.  Then when you weren’t in New York I came down here and what do you think I saw when I got here?”

Should she answer him or would it only add to his agitation?  It felt like the last decade had been stripped away and she was right back in their home… in their marriage.  She was once again walking on egg shells for fear of doing or saying the wrong thing.

“Answer me, Becca!” he yelled.

“You saw me with him… I’m sorry
,” she replied.

“Damn right… I see that idiot flirting with
my
wife!  Worse yet… you were flirting back!  Then he comes to New York and is stuck to you like glue in that fucking hotel… what was I supposed to do?  Then I follow you back down here only to find out you were living with him!  Did it make him feel like a big man kicking the shit out of the drunk who broke in his house?  I was just trying to get a message to you and he goes and shoots the guy.  I mean Jesus, Becca, is that the kind of man you want to be with… a man who shoots the local drunk?” he said angrily and then paused before beginning again.

“Did our marriage vows mean nothing to you?  The part about giving yourself only to me… until
death
do us part?  I want our marriage to work, Becca… I want you back until death do us part.  Even though my sources tell me you’re single… I know why you came back down here,” he finished angrily.

The m
an in the restaurant yesterday
… her fear had been trying to tell her something.  Her stomach rolled at the thought of once again being in a relationship with this monster.  Greg and she both had thought it was Roger stalking her since the timing fit so perfectly.  Even now Roger was paying for Brian’s actions… just as she would pay now that he was done toying with her. 

Brian
had come here for closure.  Unfortunately his kind of closure looked to include death for one or both of them.  She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up in fear. 
How would she escape this?
  He had a gun and she had nothing!

“If you listen to the fear it will tell you how to survive… sometimes that means fighting back and sometimes it means submitting.  Let your fear guide you, not consume you.”

She had to survive… she
needed
to survive.  She needed to see Dickie just one more time and tell him just how much she loved him… how the love and need for him was consuming her.  Maybe if she played along with Brian it might buy her some time and perhaps she could convince him to at least let her check on Greg. 

For the first time since seeing him standing in the kitchen she met his gaze.  Time had aged him and not gracefully… he looked about ten years ol
der than her.  Swallowing the bile back down she said as sincerely as she could, “Do you really mean that, Brian?”

His whole demeanor changed
.  His shoulders visibly lost some of the tension and he allowed the gun to go a little slack in his hand.  She forced herself to continue to look him in the eye, even though she could see the desire there.  The look did nothing for her… unlike Dickie’s bold, assessing stare.

“Yes… I meant it w
hen I tried to see you after…” he said and then a look of remorse crossed his face. “I’m so sorry that I did that to you, Becca, but don’t you think ten years is enough time to pay for my crimes?”

“I wasn’t trying to make you pay… I just wanted it to be like it was in the beginning before all the fighting and I didn’t think that could happen…”
she said. 
Would he believe her?

He moved closer to her and gently touched her face
.  “We can have that again… I’ve changed a lot in the past ten years.  Give me a chance to show you that I’ve changed.”

“If you mean that then you will let me check on Greg
…” she said, forcing herself to reach out to touch his hair.

“Sure, I’ll go with you
,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her on the mouth.

When she didn’t respond to his kiss he moved back from her and before he could say anything she said
, “If he’s not hurt too badly I will ask him to get a hotel so that you and I can have some time alone to talk.”

Surely there would be an opportunity for her to escape at some point.  She had to believe that in order to continue this charade.  Her first priority had to be Greg… if he was shot and bleeding he could die if his wound went untreated too long or the blood loss couldn’t be stopped.

“Come on… I will take you to him,” he said with a halfhearted smile.

A small part of her wondered if he was really buying her lies but she couldn’t let worry and anxiety deter her from the path.  Her fear… her gut was telling her to continue on this path and she was listening. 

Brian took her elbow, helped her out of the chair and walked her through the family room to the den where Greg was propped up against the far wall bound and gagged. 

An angry looking blood stain covered
Greg’s right shoulder and she had to stop herself from crying out and running to him.  She would be strong… they would survive.

Meeting Greg’s gaze
, she tried to communicate with her eyes that she wanted him to follow her lead.  She prayed he wouldn’t argue with her and would take the chance she was going to try and provide him.  Perhaps if he got out he could bring back some help for her.

“Are you ok?” s
he asked, attempting to mask the concern and anxiety in her voice.  Greg winced slightly but nodded that he was.