Truth Avenged (Green Division Series Book 1) (13 page)

I wouldn
’t mind if you did.
  Chance thought as she smiled back at him.  She had neglected to tell him the quip about Kerr saying the suspect had been tipped off.  If she had, she knew that he’d go on the same tirade about her staying alone like Kerr had, blah, blah, blah.

“
You know, I have some lawyerly connections myself.  If you write down the names, I’ll see what I can find out.”

“
Really?”  She was surprised by his offer.

“
Yes, really.” He raised an eyebrow.  She grabbed a piece of paper and pen.  “I’ll make a couple calls.”

“
Thanks.” 

“
You made me a conspirator to all this.  I’ll be running with you when the government starts chasing.”

“
Don’t make fun of me mister warden.”  They’d gone back to their playful banter.  She opened the front door for him. 

“
I’ll see what I can do for you.”  He held up the piece of paper.

“
Thanks.”  He walked down the front steps.  “Get some coffee and roll your windows down.”  She hollered from the house.

“
Okay, Mom.”  He hollered back.  He got into his truck and she closed the front door.  He picked up his cell phone and dialed as he pulled onto road.

“
Claire....No, I’m not calling to talk to you about that....I need a favor.  You owe me this much.”

*****

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP

S
tartled from the noise, Chance fell off the bed and landed on the floor.  Talk about being caught off guard.  She writhed on the floor before getting her bearing to realize it was the alarm in her house.  There was nothing in the hallway from what she could see.  Bat in hand, she quietly walked toward the alarm panel and shut it off.  All was silent.  Not a noise to be heard.  She only had perimeter alarms, so someone tried to get in, or had gotten in.  If she was smart, she would have gone back into her bedroom, locked the door, and waited for the police to arrive...and had the .22 in hand, not an aluminum bat.  If the alarm company worked as promised, the police would automatically be sent.  This was not the way she intended to test the theory.  She walked room to room, clearing it as she went.  The panel said back door motion.  She had to pass through most of the rooms in the house to reach the back door and all were clear of any intruders.  She reached the back door and it was securely locked, no sign that anyone had tried to force their way inside.

RING, RING, RING

The phone almost took a violent impact from the bat.  Instead Chance calmed her nerves enough to answer it.  It was the alarm company.  The alarm system worked as it should.  She told them her house seemed to be clear, but she wanted the police to continue to check properly. She was rattled as hell.  She sat on a bar stool on edge as she waited for the police to arrive.

Two officers from the local department thoroughly checked her house from top to bottom and outside her house as well.  Nothing.  No footsteps were visible.  The stone path
that led to her backdoor was dry, no footprints from the dew.  With the house secure, they cleared and went back to work.  She rechecked every lock in the house and armed the house alarm. 

Couldn
’t they try to break in at a more convenient time of night? Like the break of dawn so she could have a gotten a few hours sleep.  She’d barely fallen asleep when the alarm sounded and as a result of the “faulty alarm”, couldn’t fathom sleeping again.  Ever.  The dining room table shook as she nervously jiggled her leg below, her phone sliding about.  Her phone…Tuck.  Tuck equaled safety and empathy.  He was the only one who made her feel safe.  Not Paul, not her family.  She picked up the phone and thought hard about dialing him.  She knew he’d be over in a heartbeat.  He said he would.  It would be rude to wake him at that hour.  She was an adult, she needed to man up and grow some cahones.

The refrigerator kicked on
and the fan sounded loudly.

“
Jesus Christ!”  She jumped and nearly fell out of the chair.  This was getting old.  Fast.

*****

Tuck didn’t expect a 1:30 a.m. phone call from Chance.  She’d taken him up on his offer to call anytime, day or night.  Her voice at the other end was the most pleasant wakeup call he’d ever received.  Preferable any day over a Green dispatcher. 

“
What’s the real reason you’re calling me at this time of the morning?”  He finally cut to the point.  She’d made small talk for nearly ten minutes.

“
I can’t sleep.”  She hadn’t left the kitchen table.

As he struggled to stay awake,
Tuck wondered what drew Chance to Paul.  He came and went as he pleased, never there for her when she needed him.  Work came first.  Chance wasn’t even on the radar.

“
Tuck.”

“
Mmmm.”  He muttered.

“
Can you come over?” 

“
Um...”  He wrestled with his conscience in a haze of exhaustion.  It was one thing to visit her during respectable hours.  At the hour in the morning which they were talking, it was a horse of a different color.

“
I’m sorry.” Regret was detectable in her voice.  “I shouldn’t have asked you that.  I don’t know where my mind is.”  She expelled a deep breath.

“
Don’t be sorry.”  He yawned.  “If you want me to come over, I will.”  He shouldn’t.  Nope, definitely shouldn’t. 

“
My burglar alarm went off after midnight.  The police came and checked it out, but—”

“
Someone tried to get in?”  That woke him up.

“
I don’t know.  They said it was a false alarm, but it’s all a little too convenient.  The wardens tip off the suspect this afternoon and then my alarm goes off.”

Tuck yanked a tee shirt over his
head and pulled on a pair of jeans.  Who the hell would be so obtuse as to tip off a suspect?  He’d like to have a word with the dumbass.

“
Tip him off—did they interview him?”

“
I don’t know what they did.  Maybe I shouldn’t have talked to Kerr.” 

Yes,
you should have.  Kerr let her blow him off knowing this?  What the hell?

“
When did I become such a scared little girl?  This isn’t me.”  Fatigue came through clear on the other end of the phone.  “Probably about the same time I got shot, huh.” 

She laughe
d, a fake laugh if he’d ever heard one.

“
I’ll come over.”

“
No, I’m being ridiculous.  I’m tired.  And frustrated.  I’ll calm down.”  She let out another deep sigh.  “Talking to you helps.”

That statement sealed the deal.  He laced his shoes and grabbed his
keys.  “I’ve told you all along I don’t want you to be alone.  I’m on my way out the door.”

“
You don’t have to come over.”

“
Look for me in about forty five.” 

The truck drove itself there, the route had become familiar.  His instinct to protect her was i
n overdrive.  It came natural and he wished he could turn off the urge.  Paul could take a few lessons from Tuck’s behavioral patterns.  Protect those you love.   

*****

Chance dropped her head onto the table.  Tuck had to think she was the most pathetic loser in the world.  That was too small a comparison. 
The most pathetic loser in the universe and beyond
.  She wanted to be brave and stoic, and tough as nails.  She had been.  But then, she was shot.  And her world had been flipped upside down and inside out in its wake.  A world only stabilized by one solid presence in her life.

The living room had a form of distraction for her troubled mind.  She popped in a DVD of
Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen
and curled up on the couch.  The pain in her side reignited, likely due to the graceful fall she’d taken from the bed onto the hardwood floor.  It would pass, she reminded herself.  In the meantime she occupied herself by admiring the stellar acting skills of Josh Duhamel.  And perhaps admire his tight muscles flexing under his uniform.

Josh Duhamel
’s gorgeous eyes kept her mind properly occupied until Tuck arrived.  Wait, no, it was his acting skills, right.  Tuck called her phone as he pulled into the driveway so not to alarm her at the door.  His face was a welcome sight. 

“
Hey,” she said.

He dropped his coat on the back of the kitchen chair and kicked off his shoes.

“I should lecture you.”  He gave her a knowing glare.

“
I know.  Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”  She sat on the middle cushion of the couch,
Transformers
continued on the flat screen television, robots battling one another.  “I’ve become such a burden on everyone, especially you.”

He sat on the couch next to her. 

“You’ve never been a burden on me.” 

He
’s just being nice
.  This was another one of those nights she wanted a drink.  Now.

“
I need a drink.”  She blurted out.  “Do you want one?”  She stood up.

“
I’m all set.” 

She walked in
to the kitchen and opened the twelve pack of Mikes Hard Fruit Punch.  She withdrew one glass bottle and screwed the top off.  Relief wouldn’t be found in a 12 oz bottle of watered down malt liquor.  She downed the first bottle barely stopping for air and followed it with a second.

Tuck heard the second snap and was curious since he
’d told her he didn’t want one.  He walked into the kitchen and observed one empty on the counter, another half gone in her hand.

“
You going to throw back the six pack all at once?”  He leaned against the doorframe.

“
Twelve.”  She put the second empty on the counter.

“
Do you drink—”  How could he word this tactfully?  He wondered if this had been a problem for her behind closed doors.

“
This is the third beer I’ve had in as many months.  I’m not an alcoholic.”  She read his mind.  “It would be the perfect time to become one though.” 

She put the second empty on the counter.

Tuck crossed his arms.  “You look like hell.”

“
Thanks for the compliment.”  She wanted to grab a third Mike’s from the sting of that comment.  She put her hand on the side of her neck and tried to stretch away the tension.

“
Go to bed and get some sleep.”  She glared back at him as though it was a foreign concept.  “No one will hurt you.  Me and my Glock will make sure of it.” 

He grinned playfully.  His presence eased her mind enough to make her want to a
ttempt sleep, despite knowing what dreams might come.  She closed the short distance that separated them and wrapped her arms around his neck.  His body was as comforting as his words.  

“
I don’t know what I would have done without you these past few weeks,” she said lowly, her breath tickling the side of his neck.  

You wouldn
’t be here to comfort at all.
  Tuck returned her embrace, conflicted further by the dynamics of their relationship.  Those two beers she’d downed probably hit her all at once.

Chan
ce became self-conscious quickly about her leap into Tuck’s arms.

“
Sleep does sound good.”  She pulled back from him.  “I have a spare bedroom you can crash in.” 
Though I’d prefer you with me.

“
I’ll take the couch.  I’ll be up for a little while.” 

“
That couch is about as comfortable as a rock.”

“
It’ll do.” 

She walked into the living room and he trailed behind. 

“If you change your mind, it’s the second door on the left down the hall.”  She dropped a few blankets and a pillow on the chair next to the couch.

“
Thanks.”  Tuck sat on the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

“
Night.” 

He watched her walk away to her bedroom.  The view was not one he would complain about.

Chance dropped onto the bed and curled up under the fleece sheets.  Sleep.

*****

“What the hell?”  Chance walked around the perimeter of the plane taking it all in.  An emblem of a squirrel adorned the side, the words Flying Squirrel written above it.  It looked like it was from a different era.  It belonged in a different timeframe, one before her existence.  Though it looked ancient, it wasn’t weathered.  It wasn’t rusted, or decayed.   Maybe this was an antique plane used at shows and had an accident on the way?  Would an antique plane be equipped with real guns though?  These sure looked real.  Chance knew nothing of these matters.  What she did know was the scene around here was a paradox in every way.