Chapter Fifteen
Charlene
I had to sleep on my belly, which pissed Gibson off because I never did. It wasn’t a big deal to me, but he was edgy and moody already before that fact registered, so I guessed it just was the last straw.
“Gibson,” I whispered, which stopped the cursing and he turned his hard face toward me. “I really need you to deal right now. I’m tired, and it hurts. Please, baby, just process it and move on. Go talk to your boys, or to Paddy. Kick something. Please.”
I suddenly couldn’t keep the tears away any longer, and they started running down my cheeks. Through the godawful evening, I’d just dug in, held it together and dealt with everything. It crashed down on me then, so I stood there, not knowing what to do and with not one ounce of strength left in me.
“God,” Gibson said hoarsely, and I was suddenly on his lap in the bed.
He was resting his back against the headboard, and I curled into him, and let the tears keep coming.
“I’m sorry, baby, that was an assholey thing to do,” he said quietly. “I’ll hold it together, Lee. Promise.”
His voice was calm and gentle, and I sobbed into his shoulder. He let me cry and kept stroking my back and hair. It felt good to let the tears wash my anger and fear away, so I cried until I had no more tears left in me.
“I was so afraid,” I sniffled when I’d calmed down again. “If I hadn’t made that stupid jump he could have killed you.” I felt his arms tighten, but I went on, “I wasn’t expecting someone like you in my life, Gibson, but there you were. And you told me you loved me just a couple of hours before. The boys were laughing in the kitchen, and he shot at you. What would we have done if I hadn’t jumped?”
“Baby,” he murmured. “You told me, remember? You would have kept walking.”
“I fucking hate him. Hate that fucking criminal asshole who put him up to it. You’re gonna have to kill the man, Gibson, and I want you to, but I fucking hate that too.”
“That’s a lot of fucking,” Gibson murmured.
“I’m with you, so that’s gonna happen,” I said, meaning the cursing but realizing immediately what it had sounded like.
When Gibson’s arms tightened a little, and I heard him breathe through his nose, I knew he was fighting back laughter, and tilted my head back to look at him.
“That came out the wrong way,” I whispered.
He was laughing quietly, but his face was gentle in a way I really liked, and then he leaned down to kiss me softly.
“It was accurate,” he murmured, and I felt a soft quiver between my legs which triggered a shiver down my spine.
He felt the shiver and pulled back an inch to look at me.
“Love you, Lee. A fuck of a lot more than I think you realize,” he said and smiled, which caused another shiver. “But you got shot tonight so we’re not gonna do what your body just told me you wanna do.”
“Gibson,” I breathed.
“No,” he said calmly. “We’re going to put you on your belly, and I’m gonna hide from you how fucking mad that makes me. I’ll hold you, and we’ll sleep.”
“Baby,” I murmured, but he ignored that and moved us off the bed to pull down the covers.
Then I was on my belly, and he curled into my good side, and we slept.
I spent the next day in a deck chair on the back porch, and if I hadn’t already known how very much like their father Gibson’s sons were, I would have gotten it then.
There were four protective and very, very angry men hovering over me. Mac came to take my statement which made it five angry, hovering men. Then Joke and Paddy arrived, and the number immediately bumped up to seven. I was ready to scream when Jenny walked out on the porch.
So I did.
“Get them away from me,” I wailed, and everyone froze.
“What?” Gibson asked.
“I will go insane.”
“Are you okay, Lee?” Jenny murmured.
“They are making me crazy,” I shared, still wailing. “If I let go of some wind, they’ll have a collective stroke, and I can’t take it. I took a painkiller and barely feel what the good doctor labeled a scratch on my arm. You have got to help me.”
Her green eyes softened, and she straightened.
“Everyone who has a dick, get off the porch,” she said in a voice which would have moved mountains if it had to. When no one moved, she added, “Don’t make me angry, boys.
Her voice was suddenly a soft whisper, but there was an undertone in it I hadn’t heard before, and it was kind of scary but also way cool.
“Okay,” Andy muttered, but I saw the grin on his face. “Fart as much as you like, Lee,” he said and moved inside.
Everyone left, and I got some more comments about my bowels that weren’t funny, but kind of was, so I grinned at them. Gibson was the last to go, and he kissed me, hard and with lots of tongue before he left.
“Thank you,” I said emphatically to Jenny when she sank down into the chair next to mine.
She took hold of my hand and murmured, “I agree with Andy, fart as much as you like, sweetie. I won’t have a stroke. Promise.”
I started laughing and squeezed her hand, and she laughed with me. Then we spent the rest of the afternoon talking and giggling as if nothing unusual had happened. It soothed me and calmed me down, and I thought yet again that I’d lucked out when I came to Wilhelmine. Because of Gibson, but also because of her.
When the sun was approaching the mountains stretching out in front of us, Gibson stepped out on the porch carrying two glasses of white wine. He watched me apprehensively and raised his brows in a silent question. I nodded, and he gave us the glasses.
“Can we come out now?” he asked.
“Are you going to treat me like a damned china-doll?” I asked back.
“I’ll try not to,” he said.
“Fair enough,” I grinned. “Yeah. I’m good now, and you can come out again.”
I saw the soft squeeze he gave Jenny’s shoulder, but then the men descended upon us, bringing food of various kinds and bags of chips. We spent the evening on the porch where everything could have ended the night before; reclaiming it and moving on with our lives. The criminal who’d put a contract on Gibson was still out there somewhere, but a police cruiser passed by a couple of times during the evening and I was surrounded by badassness, so I wasn’t afraid. Not one bit.
We made love that night, soft and slow. I was on top and had Gibson’s strong hands on my behind, cupping it and setting the pace. When I came, I looked into his eyes and breathed out his name. His eyes darkened as he watched me, his face tightened, and he suddenly bucked up under me, holding me still and emptying himself with a low, hoarse groan.
“Love you,” I whispered as his cock jerked inside me, and he groaned again.
“Love you too,” he murmured against my neck. “Christ, Lee. Love you.”
I closed my eyes and fell asleep on top of him, sated and happy. Feeling safe, in spite of everything that was swirling around us.
***
The next day was easier, and when we sat down to have dinner, the mood seemed more or less normal again. Gibson had spent a lot of time on the phone and with Paddy, but he looked relaxed, and we were joking as the food was passed around.
“I’ve got something to share,” Cal said suddenly.
“Okay,” I said when no one else did, and he gave me a small grin.
“I’m moving here.”
I put the mashed potatoes down with a thud and stared at him.
“Here?” Gibson asked quietly.
“To Wilhelmine,” Cal clarified what we already knew. “Wanted to for some time, Dad. Asked Mac a while back to let me know if he had an opening. He has one now.”
I couldn’t help myself and got up to give him a one-armed hug from behind, kissing his cheek and murmuring, “You have no idea how happy this makes me.” His eyes went to mine, and he grinned in a way that was just like his father’s.
“Cal,” Gibson said, and to my surprise, he looked serious. “You sure about this?”
“Yeah, Dad. I’m sure. Part of it is the job, and I suspect you know what I mean when I say that. It sucks you in. I feel it, pulling me down.
“Already?”
“Yeah,” Callum sighed. “I’ve done some undercover shit and the thought of going on with… Don’t want that. But mostly it’s about the city. Grew up there but you know I don’t like it. Always liked here better, you know that too.”
“It’s mostly gonna be parking tickets and some punk-ass kids drinking too much beer,” Gibson said warningly, and I finally got it.
He wanted his boy close, but he wanted him to know what he was getting into. Callum didn’t hesitate to let him know his side of things.
“Wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve talked to Mac a couple of times, and he made me sit down with one of the deputies, talk through the job. I know what it is.”
“Fuck,” Gibson muttered and leaned his head into his hands.
“You don’t want me here?” Cal asked quietly, and Gib’s head flew back up.
“Don’t be a moron, boy. Fucking fantastic to have you in Wilhelmine.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“Not sure I’m okay with you being a goddamned grown-up, Cal.”
Callum snorted out a short laugh but got serious again, and I braced because of the look in his eyes. It was one I’d seen in his father’s eyes more than once.
“Since we now both know I’m a grown-up, I’ll tell you this; I want in.”
“What?” Gibson asked, but both he and I knew what Cal meant.
He didn’t hesitate to explain.
“I know what you do. You, Paddy, Mac, Day and Joke. No one in town talks about it much, but they all know. I move back here, then when you need me, you use me.
I could see a long string of protests in Gibson’s eyes, but whatever they were, they’d be wrong. They’d come from concern for his son, something Cal didn’t need, so I decided to step in.
“I guess this is what you call an apple not falling very far from the tree,” I said calmly.
“Lee, you’re not helping,” Gibson growled.
“I am helping and you’re not,” I protested, and his eyes cut to me, but I didn’t back down because this was important. Instead, I pushed back. “I saw you execute vengeance just two days ago, Gib, but I saw your son too. He was not joking, baby, and if you hadn’t done it, he would have.”
It took a few seconds and our eyes held while he processed what I’d said.
“Shit,” he murmured finally, and I knew he got it, so I turned to Cal and winked at him.
He didn’t smile back, but the skin around his eyes softened.
“Okay, I’ll talk to Paddy, we’ll see,” Gibson said.
“Fair enough,” Cal said calmly.
Parks and Andy had kept quiet through the talk, which I thought was wise of them, but when the mood eased again, they started talking about their brother’s move.
“Can I ask something?” Andy suddenly said, eyes on his father.
“Sure.”
“What did Paddy mean when he asked about the contract that fucker has on you? When he asked about the payment and if it was open-ended?”
I had wondered about it too but hadn’t wanted to bring it up, so I smiled at Andy and waited for Gib to explain, something he did without delay and as calmly as if he discussed a grocery list.
“When guys like that set up a contract they do it one out of two ways. They either pay some or all in advance, or deposit the fee, making it open-ended. Or they pay after the kill. First way, it never goes away. The payment is done or tucked away somewhere so the hitmen will keep coming. Second way is a lot easier, so that was good fucking news.”
“Yeah?” Andy said, making the single word into a question.
Gibson sighed quietly, and when he explained he did it gently.
“It means that if we can get Zhivko in a position where he can’t pay, then it’ll be over.”
We all knew what that meant.
Zhivko was a dead man walking.
***
Gibson
Gibson finished his workout and wiped the sweat off his face and chest with a towel, slung it over his shoulder and grunted.
“Done. You?”
“Done,” Callum replied and grinned at him. “I hate you.”
Gibson grinned back, and he knew it was a little too cockily, but he didn’t give one shit. He’d just whipped his twenty-eight-year-old son’s ass and done it good. It felt good to have a sparring partner again, though, and he wasn’t going to tell Cal that he’d had to put all he had in him behind the ass-kicking. They’d trained together as Cal grew up and his son was good, and while Gib had the benefit of experience, Cal had youth and speed.
They walked into the kitchen. Cal had rounded the corner and was moving toward the downstairs bathroom when Gibson saw Lee coming in from the back porch.
She was in her yoga pants and a fucking fantastic top in a shade of blue she’d told him was cornflower, something he’d not given one shit about. At the time, he’d not conveyed his lack of sentiments regarding her color-choices because he’d been in the process of peeling it off her. He didn’t say anything about it this time either because the top was sleeveless, and the bandage around her arm was the only thing he could see. Then he realized what she’d been doing.
“For fuck’s sake, Lee,” he growled. “You’ve done yoga with a gunshot wound on your arm?”
She raised her brows at him and replied calmly, “Yes.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”
She walked up to him and tilted her head back.
“Badass,” she snapped and poked him in the chest. “Nurse,” she added on another snap and poked herself in the chest.
Since he apparently hadn’t expressed himself in a way she understood, he was about to voice his opinion clearly, and that opinion was that she was out of her fucking mind. She let go of his gaze and let her hand slide over his bare chest, going down until she hit the waistband of his shorts. He lost his voice when she moved it further down to cup his cock, and he felt it stir.
“I didn’t want to lose flexibility, so I did some light stretches, that’s all. And for the record, baby, I didn’t hear you complaining when you realized you could put my feet by my ears.”
Jesus. He had in no way complained about that fact.
Someone suddenly cleared their throat, and Gibson froze. Lee snatched her hand away from his crotch, and they both turned their heads to find Callum back in the kitchen, standing next to his brothers at the breakfast bar.
They were grinning.
“Shit,” Gibson muttered.
Lee suddenly laughed weakly, and said, “Right. There is nothing I can say that will make this less awkward, so I’m just going to pretend it didn’t happen, and calmly walk upstairs to take a shower.”
She moved toward the stairs, not looking at either of them, but Gibson could see her shoulders shaking slightly, so he assumed she was still laughing.
“Wait,” Parks said suddenly, got a roll of plastic film out of a drawer, and went on, “Use this to cover the bandages. Let me or Dad know if you can’t reach around to tape it properly, yeah?”
Lee stared at him, and then she smiled so happily it felt like the whole room brightened. Her eyes went to Gibson and he smiled back at her even though he had no fucking clue what she was so happy about.
“I love that you made a son who would think about that even in a situation like this,” she whispered, turned and disappeared up the stairs.
Gibson loved that too.
“Suck-up,” Cal muttered and shoved his brother with his shoulder.
“Ass-licker,” Andy chimed in and threw a scrunched-up paper towel on him.
Gibson chuckled. Brothers.
“Well, I’m certainly not gonna call you a brown-nose,” he said and walked up to Parks to put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Not a problem,” Parker grinned. “Got one up on the morons now.”
“Yeah,” Gibson agreed. “Probably on me too.”
That got him the laughter he’d wanted, and he was about to walk upstairs to help Lee put fucking plastic film over her goddamned bandages when Parks stopped him.
“Why didn’t you tell us about her?” he asked. “You were in Chicago just a couple of weeks ago, Dad. We had dinner. Why didn’t you tell us then?”
Gibson knew that answering would mean sharing a few things his sons might not exactly like to hear, but he could still not stop a quick appreciative grin. Parker was quieter than the other two and had always been softer, gentler than his brothers, but he was also wicked smart. Accelerated classes, heck, even adding extra classes on top of that, doing med school in record time. Of course, Parks would be the one asking.
Still. This wouldn’t be easy, and he had no clue how to even begin, so he pulled his hands through his hair and rubbed his neck before turning to find them waiting for his reply.
“Not gonna make me look too good,” he muttered warningly.
Silence.
“I’m fifty-five.”
Silence. Right. Fuck it.
His eyes went to Callum first.
“Didn’t love your mother, Cal. Loved the idea of you, and when you came along, fucking beside myself. Did not love her.”
“I know, Dad,” Cal said calmly.
Cal’s mother was a hard, selfish woman, and Callum knew that better than the rest of them. Gibson’s second wife had been different, and he braced as he turned his eyes to his younger boys.
“Didn’t love Patricia,” he said quietly, but went on before either of them could say anything about it. “She knew I didn’t, but she thought it’d come. Had you two, but that just made it harder for her because I loved you. And I still didn’t love her. Liked her a fuckovalot, but it wasn’t enough, and it made her bitter. Which pissed me off. That was partly guilt for not feeling what I wasn’t feeling, but mostly I was just pissed off because she knew right off the bat what she’d get. Bitter and angry is not a good combination, boys. You saw it.”
“We know, Dad,” Parks said calmly. “There were good times too,” he added.
“Yeah,” Gibson said and watched his youngest boy.
Andy had been ten, almost eleven when his second marriage went down the drain, and Gibson felt a familiar twinge of guilt. His boy had been so fucking young.
“Don’t look like that, Dad,” Andy said to his surprise. “Things got a whole lot better when you moved out. You handled it okay, after. Both of you. I think…”
“What?” Gibson murmured, and wondered why the hell he’d never talked to them about this before. At least, not like this. Not openly and honestly.
“Thinking about what you just said, Dad. I think maybe it was better for mom when you left. Before, she had, I don’t know, expectations? After, she could move on.”
Gibson looked his boy straight in the eye, so proud of the man he’d been a part of bringing to the world. Not so very proud of himself.
“You have no idea how much of a dick you just made me feel like, Andy,” he said quietly, “and that’s okay. I was one. Should never have started it with Patricia, but I can’t regret it. I look at what’s in front of me and I have no regrets.”
He turned to watch the blue skies over the mountains outside his window, pulled his hand over his head again, and sighed.
“Falling in love for the first time in my fucking life threw me, boys. It just…” he trailed off and watched them with a crooked smile. “Never said the words to a woman. Never told a woman I loved her. I’m an asshole in many ways, but I don’t lie, so I never said it,” he grinned then, “Not until two minutes before you rang the doorbell a few days ago.”
That got him a few chuckles, and he felt a heavy weight ease off his shoulders.
“Wasn’t up to sharing what I just shared about your mothers. Wasn’t sure how everything with Lee would end up. Felt like a fucking moron because a tiny woman had taken one look at me and thrown me so far off my game it felt like I’d never find my way again. So, yeah. Didn’t tell you about Lee because I didn’t know what to say, and I’m sorry because I should have.”
“It’s okay, Dad,” Parks murmured.
“It wasn’t,” Gibson said. “But I hope it is now.”
“Yeah,” Cal murmured. “It is.”
There was a stretch if silence and since Gibson never had a heart to heart with his boys before he had no fucking clue how to move them along.
“Can she really put her feet by her ears, Dad?” Andy asked suddenly in a voice full of humor, and his brothers started laughing, which was why he’d said it in the first place.
Christ, Gibson thought. His youngest boy was growing into such a good man.
“Yeah,” Gibson muttered and tried to hide a grin which he suspected showed a little too much of just how limber Lee was.
The chuckles he got told him that he’d not managed to hide shit.
“Not going there, boys.”
“Fuck, no,” Cal agreed.
“Right, I need a shower, who’s making coffee?” Gibson asked.
“Need a shower too,” Cal said quickly, and predictably.
“I’ll make it,” Parks said before Andy could start whining about not wanting to.
Family dynamics. The rhythm of who they were, and since who they were was something he liked a fuck of a lot, Gibson smiled.
“Dad,” Parks said quietly. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, son,” Gibson said and moved toward the stairs when his cell phone rang, and he walked back to snag it from the kitchen counter. His brows went up in surprise when he saw who it was, and he took the call immediately.
“Cap?”
He had sporadic contact with his Captain back in Chicago, but they’d met when he was back to discuss the trial a few weeks earlier, so he hadn’t expected a call. Not liking the way his gut communicated that this would likely not be good news, he moved toward the back porch and away from his sons.
“Gibson, we’ve got a problem.”
“I know about the contract,” he said.
“Guessed you would,” the captain said, and added, “Zhivko.”
“Know that too.”
“Shit,” the other man growled. “Fuckall situation, Gib. One of my men was asking around, found out some shit. Got himself shot and killed a few days ago. Every police officer in the country is looking for the bastard. He’s a cop-killer now.”
Gibson’s stomach turned ice cold, and he closed his eyes.
“Please, Cap. Please tell me it wasn’t Will Johnson,” he murmured.
“You knew him?”
Fuck. Beth would have her hands full with handling everything, and their children to take care of on top of that. She’d probably have talked to her family, but even if they knew, Lee wasn’t in touch with them. No one would have thought to call her.
“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Long story. But yeah, I met him. My woman’s ex-husband is related to his wife. Hate the ex. Liked him.”
“Christ,” his former Captain grunted. “He was a good cop. A good man.”
“How’s Beth?”
Silence.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
Gibson watched Lee walk down the stairs wearing a pretty, pale blue sundress and a huge smile on her face, and he closed his eyes and turned away.
Fuck. Fuck.
He’d have to tell her.