Obsessive Compulsion (27 page)

I take in a breath to steady my reply. “He
should have thought of that before committing fraud against the
County. You know it’s now a State matter and blackmailing us isn’t
going to change that. I couldn’t change his situation if I wanted
to. He dug that shithole, so now he can sit in it.”

Michael’s face goes red. “You arrogant
fucking prick! When I’m finished with you, you won’t be able to get
a job in Timbuktu!”

“Michael,” Brandon reenters the conversation
just as Michael hits the edge of losing it. Perfect timing.
“There’s nothing we can do for Matt. However, if we pay you one
hundred and fifty-thousand dollars and sign over this property to
you, will you agree to stop following us and hand over any private
information you were threatening to make public?”

I swear, I can hear Michael trumpeting his
own horn in victory as a sly grin slithers across his lips.
“Maybe.”

Brandon makes sure it’s all on the table.
“I’ll also need a guarantee that you’ll stop all physical violence
against my employees, and you can no longer blackmail Charlotte
McLeod.”

“Fine, fine,” he waves it off. “I admit,
Saul drunk was a pitiful fight according to my boys, so prolonging
that dumbshit’s suffering is pointless. As for Miss McLeod, I
suppose getting her sacked was payback enough to Ian, for now. I’ll
leave the redhead alone, unless she wants to play.”

The slimy bastard licks his lips at me while
raising both eyebrows, then he looks back at Brandon. “
If
you agree to leave town.”

Brandon leans in, his tone darkening.
“Alright, but I want to know how you got your information.”

“I aint no snitch,” Michael teases, “but
everyone has their price, including one of your members.”

Brandon’s scowl darkens, but he leans back
with a subtle nod. “You get all that?” he asks and Michael’s smirk
withers into confusion.

“Indeed I did,” James saunters into the
skylight-illuminated area from behind a pile of two-by-fours. He’s
in full uniform with a pair of handcuffs looping around one finger.
“That all you need, your Honor?”

The rain has stopped overhead and sunbeams
fill the factory, giving light to the figures emerging from the
shadows behind Forester. Rabbit, or rather attorney Judith Ramirez,
is in a sharp looking business suit with a no-nonsense expression
to match. The honorable Judge Bruce ‘the bull’ Montgomery steps up
next to her five-foot-nothing frame, the sunlight reflecting off
his bald head. Bull is well known, respected and feared for damn
good reasons.

“What the fuck, Peters?” Michael’s breath
hitches as it all starts to come together. “You set me up?”

Bruce raises one eyebrow at Michael. “You do
understand that blackmail, extortion and attempting to interfere
with a State investigation are all against the law, Mr.
Forester?”

“W-w-what?” Michael shoots to his feet,
knocking the chair over, and shuffles sideways towards the door a
few steps. “You don’t understand, your Honor! Not that I’m
questioning you, sir, but if you knew the kinds of things these two
were up to…”

“Ah,” Bruce nods lightly, “but you see, Mr.
Forester, I am quite aware of the activities of Mr. Peters and Mr.
Rider.
All
their activities, which are all quite legal. Your
activities, however…”

Judith tsks, and I can’t stop the smile from
forming on my lips as she puts one hand on her hip and grinds
Forester’s balls into dust. Glancing at an open manila folder in
her hand, she shakes her head with a little sigh. “You’ve been a
very naughty boy, Michael. According to my office’s own
investigations, your brother wasn’t the only one involved in
forgery, faked safety inspections, and… oh, what’s this? My, oh my,
this looks like tax evasion.”

Forester backs up two steps before hitting
the wall of Brandon’s chest. Brandon leans down to the man’s ear.
“I think Ian and I are going to have to pass on your offer. Now,
get the
fuck
off
my
property.”

James rolls the cuffs around his finger.
“I’ve got a ride waitin’ for you, Mr. Forester.”

“Wait just a damn minute!” Michael’s eyes
dart towards the door then to me. “C’mon, Rider, that shit with
your girl – that was just a joke! And… and Brandon, you know we’ve
been at each other’s throats for years. What’d ya’ say we just call
it even?”

Brandon looks to me and I nod, glad to just
have it all over. “I can agree to that. It
is
Christmas,
after all.”

Forester deflates with a relieved huff, then
stiffens as James snaps one cuff around his wrist. “B-b-but…”

“My office, however,” Judith shrugs, “is not
against pressing charges on Christmas Eve.” She sneaks a wink at
us. “I’m a lawyer, what can I say…”

“I’ll make it all public!” Michael shouts.
“I’ll tell them
everything!
”

“Afraid not, Mr. Forester,” Bruce smiles,
and it’s one of the most frightening things I’ve ever seen. “You
see, your case, as well as Matthew’s, is going to have a Gag Order
due to State security matters. I’m also issuing a Cease and Desist
Order. If you so much as sneeze in the direction of Brandon or
Ian’s affairs, I’ll hold you in contempt
and
add the
extortion charges.”

I swear, Michael is about to piss himself as
Bruce leans in. The large, bald man’s smile vanishes and the Devil
himself flashes through his ice-blue eyes. His deep baritone leaves
no question about his authority to castrate Michael right where he
stands. “Are we clear, Mr. Forester?”

All Michael can manage is a tiny nod and
muffled whimper that nearly has Brandon and I laughing our asses
off. Bruce stands back up to his full height, turns and smirks at
us for a fraction of a second. May I
never
meet that man in
his courtroom.

“Michael Forester,” James cuffs the other
wrist and begins escorting Michael out of the factory while reading
him his rights. “You have the right to remain silent, not that you
will, but it
is
recommended. You have a right to an
attorney, and man, are you gonna need one…”

Judith tiptoes and kisses Bruce’s cheek.
“Thanks for coming all the way down here on Christmas Eve, Brucey.”
She glances at me and Brandon, winks, then follows James out the
door with the click-clacking of her high heels. “Merry Christmas,
boys,” she waves over her shoulder. “I’ll send you my bill.”

“Merry Christmas, Jude!” Brandon is fighting
back chuckles as he shakes Bruce’s hand. “Thanks, Bruce.”

“Anytime, son,” he smiles. “Oh, and I think
I might have a debut coming the week after New Year’s. I’ll let you
know.”

Brandon frowns. “I’m almost afraid to let
anyone new in until we can find the turncoat. You may’ve shut
Forester up, but that leak could put everyone, including you, at
risk.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” Bruce grins.
“He’s a private investigator.”

Brandon matches the man’s grin. “Sounds
perfect.”

“Ya’ll have a merry Christmas, and give Emma
a hug for me,” he dips his chin then heads out the door.

Once the metal door bangs closed, Austin
lets out a whoop. “Can’t believe that worked!”

“You haven’t known Forester as long as we
have,” Brandon’s scowl returns. “A man can only push his luck so
many times before it runs out.” Softening his expression, he offers
Austin a smile. “Go on back to the hospital and make sure that damn
fool doesn’t leave. Vic took away his clothes, but I don’t think
that’d stop Saul from runnin’ outta the hospital with his ass
hanging out from the back of one of those paper gowns.”

Austin coughs back a blushing laugh at that
imagery. “You’re probably right, boss. Give your girls a hug for
me, too, and merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” I answer with Brandon as
Austin jogs across the factory floor and out the door. Once it’s
Brandon and me, I start laughing with a snort. “I can’t believe
that worked, either.”

“It was
your
idea!” Brandon’s
laughing right beside me. Once we catch our breath, we start
heading for the exit. “Any idea on what to do about John?”

“Tell him the truth.” It’s the only thing I
can think of. “Either he’ll accept us or he won’t.”

Brandon nods with a small frown tugging down
his lips as he holds the door open. “And if he doesn’t?”

I pause in the doorway, taking a deep breath
of the wet, winter air. I thought about the answer to that question
all night and have the dark circles under my eyes to prove it. The
ring in my pocket, however, held the only question that truly
mattered. “Then I guess you’ll have to walk Charlotte down the
aisle instead. If she says yes, I mean.”

“I think that’s the last thing you need to
worry about, buddy.” He slaps my back with a chuckle as we walk out
into the muddy parking lot. His chuckle dies as he spots James
leaning against the rear of his cruiser. Brandon curses under his
breath, but keeps walking towards the cruiser that’s parked next to
the Mercedes. “James…”

“Brandon,” James takes his Stetson off and
stands up straight.

“Shouldn’t you be getting Forester to
County?” Brandon asks, his voice neutral.

This was the part of my plan, involving
James, that I knew Brandon had the hardest time with. I’d be lying
if I didn’t hope it might open up the dialogue between them a
little. James had seemed so sincere on Friday night, I felt I had
to at least give the bastard a chance.

“Thought I might give him some extra time to
consider the consequences of his actions,” James smirks, but it
lacks its usual overconfidence. He glances at me and the smirk
falters further. “Sorry to hear ‘bout Miss McLeod losing her job,
but if anyone can fix that, Rabbit can.”

“Agreed,” I nod. “Thanks for your help
today.”

He shrugs. “Not like I got anything else to
do. ‘Sides, it’s what friends do.”

“Since when are we friends?” Brandon crosses
his arms.

“Wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout me an’ you,” James
replies, but much to my surprise, he doesn’t otherwise respond to
Brandon’s anger. “You’re not the only one who stands to lose
something if the club goes down. ‘Sides,” he glances off to the
side and lowers his eyes. “I promised my best friend I’d always
keep an eye on his brother, an’
I
don’t break promises.”

Brandon’s jaw tightens as James starts
heading to the front of his cruiser. “You got a lot of nerve
bringing up Brendon, given all the shit that you fucked up between
us and with Em.”

James stops, but doesn’t turn back around.
“He was your brother, but he was my best friend, and you broke your
promise, Brandon. Not him, and not me. You. I already said how
sorry I am for what happened with Emma, and it’ll be something I
regret for the rest a’ my life.”

“What is it you want from me, James?”
Brandon asks, his pain-filled voice giving me chills.

James’ shoulders sag, as if he’s trying to
hold up a great weight on them that he just can’t stand to carry
anymore. The posture is so familiar that I find myself relating to
the man I had sworn was my enemy. “I’m just so damn tired, Brandon.
I wanna make my peace and be done with it.”

I glance to Brandon to find the man stunned
by the sound of torment I heard in James’ voice. It’s like
Brendon’s ghost is haunting both of them, and Brandon just realized
they’ve been carrying a shared burden all these years. As Brandon
continues to stare at James in silence, James sighs, opens his car
door and shakes his head.

“Well, maybe next year,” he tosses his hat
into the passenger seat, gets in his cruiser and drives away,
leaving me to help Brandon start to move forward again.

Anxiously running my sweating palms down the
front of my skirt for the hundredth time as I stare blankly at the
Christmas tree in my parents’ living room, I wait with held breath
for news from the barn. Ian and Brandon returned shortly before one
of the most uncomfortable family dinners I’ve ever had the
privilege of attending. I was glad to hear that Saul was doing
better, Austin was okay and Forester was on his way to jail, but
Daddy had remained a stone wall during the whole conversation.

Before Momma could serve slices of her
blue-ribbon winning pecan pie, Daddy was out the door with a
mumbled excuse about feeding goats. My daddy refusing to stick
around for dessert felt like the final deathblow for his
relationship with Ian. When a man lets something come between him
and pie, I know there’s almost no hope for salvaging what’s been
broken.

It hurt to see the pain and worry in Ian’s
eyes. After learning what kind of relationship he had with his
father, I wanted so much for mine to accept him, all of him and
unconditionally. Ian deserves that kind of father-son relationship,
and I’m disappointed that my daddy is acting the way he is.

Being disappointed in my daddy isn’t
something I thought I’d ever experience. The way it’s tying my
stomach into knots and pulling my heart it two different directions
isn’t a feeling I’d wish on anyone. He’s my hero, but so is Ian.
I’m prayin’ that Daddy doesn’t make me choose between him and Ian,
because no matter how much I love my daddy, I’ve made a promise to
stand by Ian’s side the same way he’s stuck next to mine.

Ian and Brandon had stayed for the pie after
Daddy fled, letting my momma float on a sea of compliments as she
offered us all encouraging smiles. With a kiss on my forehead and a
promise to make things right, Ian had headed out to the barn with
Brandon. That had been almost an hour ago.

The multicolored lights on the tree focus in
and out, blurred in my vision as I try to remain calm. Deep, even
inhales do little to keep my heart’s rhythm normal. It’s still
recovering from the news that Ian had sought and received my
daddy’s blessing to propose to me, and now I’m worried that’s all
been taken away. I know that I’d say yes, no matter what my daddy
thinks.