Benediction: Diversion Book 9

by Eden Winters

  CHAPTER 14

  Before Lucky registered movement, Bo hurled himself over the SUV’s console, planting his mouth against Lucky’s. He pulled back and rested their foreheads together, palm warm against Lucky’s cheek. “Walter got word about a car matching the description of yours exploding about a minute before Sal… Jimmy called. I was so afraid I’d lost you. I owe him big time for calling and putting my fears to rest.” He studied Lucky as much as possible by the garage lights. “You are okay, right? Please tell me you’re all right.”

  Was he? Beaten up, recovering from a close call. Another message, or had the killer meant to take Lucky out this time? If he’d left directly after his match with Jimmy, he’d have been in the car.

  Bo eased out of the garage and dodged lookie-loos on the way to less crowded areas, never easing up his death grip on Lucky’s hand. Any tighter, and Lucky might lose another finger.

  Bo finally released his hand and pulled into a McDonalds.

  What?

  “Two cheeseburgers, large fries, vanilla milkshake.”

  “I know that’s not for you.” Bo was anti-fast food, except for salads. All cows were safe from him.

  Chickens too.

  “No, you’ve missed dinner. The way you’re feeling right now, I imagine you need some comfort food.” Bo rolled a shoulder in a half-shrug. “The health of the mind is equally important to the health of the body.”

  As much as Lucky loved junk food, he’d rather not have sacrificed his ride in the process of earning a treat. “What about my car?” The words sounded whiny but, damn it, some asshole destroyed his car.

  If he dwelled on the car enough, he could ignore the whole him being the target thing. At this rate, he’d never clean up his language in time to prevent Andro from saying choice words to Grandma.

  “Don’t think about it now.” Bo rested a hand on Lucky’s shoulder. “We have insurance. I’ll take you to get a rental. I’m not worried about a car. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “What about you? You getting anything to eat?”

  Bo pulled up to the pay window and gave Lucky a “you’re kidding, right?” scowl. “I ate at the house. Besides, my stomach’s too tied up in knots to even consider food.”

  Lucky ate his cheeseburgers on the way home.

  Every bite turned to sand in his mouth.

  They arrived at the house in time to watch Salters kiss Charlotte at the door and stroll out to his car. Lucky didn’t watch as he pulled from the driveway.

  Bo patted Lucky’s knee. “You’re growling. Stop it. This is becoming a habit.”

  Lucky’d bite if given half a chance.

  Just not tonight.

  Lucky opened the front door and dropped his keys onto the entry table. They fell to the floor. Oh, right. No more table.

  Some asshole broke it.

  Not like he needed those keys anymore. At least his Camaro’s keys. He’d loved his car. It was paid for. The last thing he needed on top of everything else was a car payment.

  He bent to retrieve his keyring and stopped, clutching his back. Not happening. Someone better equipped to bend could get them later.

  Feet hit the floor, heading his way. Oh, no! Not an overly-enthusiastic dog! One who only obeyed Ty, and currently sported a cone around his neck.

  God, Lucky hurt in places he hadn’t known could hurt.

  Charlotte practically leapt over the cone-headed Moose, skidding to a stop in her socked feet and wrapping him in an awkward hug, as her belly beat her to him by a good two seconds. Lucky grabbed the door to keep upright.

  “Oh, God, Lucky, are you okay?” She pulled back, gripping his upper arms and assessing him up and down, like he’d seen her do for her kids when they hadn’t made enough of an effort to dress properly.

  Of course, Charlotte would worry. Between Bo, Rett, and Jimmy, she’d gotten word. He should’ve called her himself. But… paperwork… statements. “I’m fine, really. I wasn’t nowhere near my car. I was at the gym.” No need telling her the explosion seemed timed with him leaving the gym. When he caught the bastard responsible…

  “Are you sure you’re okay? Absolutely certain?” Her brow furrowed into worried mom mode.

  “One hundred percent sure.” He wouldn’t tell her about the bruises, general soreness, and total loss of his pride, all at the hands of her boyfriend. Brr… Jimmy was actually his sister’s boyfriend.

  “In that case…” Charlotte slammed her balled up fist into his solar plexus. Yow! Direct hit on a bruise. No fair! She and Jimmy struck the same places.

  Lucky grabbed the door again with one hand, rubbing his chest with the other. Thank God he wore his leather jacket. February had some uses after all, like forcing him to wear extra padding. “What was that for?” His entire body ached and he wanted nothing more than to soak in the Jacuzzi, maybe forever.

  “How dare you… how dare you try to dictate who I date and who I don’t?” The rage purpling her face clashed horribly with her current auburn hair color.

  Rett squeezed between Lucky and the door at his back, son on her hip. “I reckon me and Rone should be going. Call me, Char.”

  Coward. The shutting door sealed Lucky’s doom. Outside, he heard Rett tell Bo, “I wouldn’t go in there right now if I were you.”

  Lucky held up both hands as much to keep Charlotte at bay as to surrender. He’d worried that Rett could kick his ass, got handed his ass by Jimmy, who he’d underestimated, but Charlotte? Oh, hell yeah. Get her mad and watch out. “Calm down! Don’t go getting all excited.” He glanced out the window. Where the hell was Bo? It couldn’t take that long to park the truck in their own driveway.

  “Excited? Excited!” Charlotte poked a pointy-nailed digit into his chest. “For your own safety, you’d better learn the difference between excited and mad as hell!”

  Please, God, let her not have a gun handy. He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. When she got this angry, the only defense was to appeal to her motherly instincts—hopefully amped up to ten by the impending baby. “But… I love you.”

  How she managed excruciating side-eye and stink-eye all in one, he’d never know. Talented, he guessed, and lots of practice getting pissed off, growing up with three younger brothers and raising two boys who’d somehow managed to stay alive into their teens.

  Oh, and a pain in the ass older brother.

  Where the hell was Bo? He should’ve been right behind Lucky. He’d calm Charlotte down.

  “Can we talk about this like adults?” Lucky ventured.

  Once again, the woman, who might be the last human being he ever saw before death, ran a critical gaze up and down Lucky’s body. “I think we’re one adult short, but go on, talk.”

  “Promise not to hit me again?”

  Charlotte folded her arms together over her rounded belly, her glare giving her answer. No promises.

  “Can we at least sit down?” Lucky had gotten too old to get his ass handed to him on a platter and then be expected to stand while using brain cells.

  His sister waved a hand toward the couch.

  “First, how’s Andro?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “Ty?”

  “Pretending to sleep, but likely pressing his ear to his bedroom door to hear every word. Don’t change the subject.”

  Lucky winced. Oh, yeah. Whatever Charlotte handed out might be repeated tomorrow by her son.

  He sank down onto the couch, letting out a sigh of relief. Damn, but he hurt. He’d gotten Jimmy’s side of the story, now to interro… find out his sister’s perspective. “How did you meet Jimmy?” He still hadn’t ruled out the bastard searching Lucky’s file to find out his address and showing up unannounced, demanding Charlotte go out with him.

  Charlotte eased into her favorite chair, reclining back to put her feet up. “Look, Lucky, it’s none of your business. If you’d come to me and asked me first, we could have sat down and talked, but no, you had to take him to a gym and prove you were ‘the man’.” She mad
e air quotes.

  Direct hit. Yeah, he’d warned the guy away and Jimmy hadn’t listened, and Rett should have said something, but Charlotte had a point. Besides, Rett was Charlotte’s friend too. Rett wanted her friends to be happy. Of course, she went along with the keep Lucky in the dark plan.

  Charlotte’s eyes glittered with more than anger. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “Look, Lucky, I was there for you. I was always there for you. I came every single day to your trial, hoping and praying by some miracle you’d avoid prison.

  “Then you got out, you wouldn’t even talk to me on the phone, and then you faked your death. Do you have any idea how much you gutted me? I lay on my bed crying for days. For days!”

  Oh, God. “You said you knew I wasn’t dead.” Even to his own ears, Lucky’s argument came off weak.

  “That’s what I told people, because I wanted to be right, but how could I not, deep down, believe you were gone? I hadn’t even gotten to see you face to face in ten fucking years!” She rose from her chair and paced back and forth before the fireplace, rubbing her hands over her upper arms. “Ten years, Lucky, ten years of not talking to you, not having you in my sons’ lives. Do you have any idea how badly I needed you? I needed my brother. My best friend. And you weren’t there, chose not to be.”

  “I… I thought it was better for you and the boys.” Who in their right mind could have wanted him around, former trafficker and drug lord’s pet?

  “There you go again thinking I can’t decide what’s best for me.” She stopped pacing and turned toward Lucky, throwing both hands up in the air. “And you wonder why I didn’t tell you about Jimmy.”

  All those years Lucky had kept his distance, trying to keep his sister and nephews safe from his past, his reputation, from him. “I wasn’t the kind of person you’d want around your kids.”

  “Again, how is that your decision to make? I loved my brother. Love him still, even when he’s a bonehead. Ever hear of unconditional love? Huh? It means no conditions, not ‘I love you, but…’ It means I love you no matter what. There’s nothing you could do or say that could change my mind, but Lucky? It’s my mind. My decision.”

  A frozen ice pick jabbed his heart. He’d done it. He’d hurt her. He hadn’t meant to, and yet, he had.

  For all the years he’d carried the load of the past, she’d carried her own burdens. He’d only added to them. The full impact of his actions slammed home. What had he done? “You’ve waited years to say that, haven’t you?”

  “I never planned to say anything out loud. You came back into my life, and I was thrilled. Nothing else mattered.” Charlotte collapsed onto the ottoman, head in her hands.

  Lucky slid off the couch and knee walked to her. Would she allow him to even touch her? He put tentative arms around her in a sidewise hug, ready to back off if she flinched.

  She didn’t flinch, just patted his hand where it lay on her shoulder.

  All this time he’d believed he’d protected her, and he’d hurt her. Hurt her deep. “I’m sorry, Charlotte, I’m so, so sorry. I promised to be there for you, and I wasn’t.”

  Sniff. “You could have been.”

  Yes, he could have. He thought he’d been the only one to suffer all those years, that she was better off without him. He’d never felt so small in his life.

  “After you married that…”

  She held her hand up, cutting off his words. “Yes, I married an abusive sumbitch. That was my mistake to make too. I’ve learned.” Her glare said what she didn’t with words: That’s nothing compared to your fuckups. “Besides, I got two wonderful boys out of that relationship. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

  The gut-punch of truth nearly laid Lucky out. He wasn’t really angry at Jimmy, but hurt that Charlotte hadn’t confided in him. Hadn’t Lucky done the same to her, and worse? Kept secrets. Kept himself away from her.

  One thing he had gotten right: she was too good for him.

  After years of neglect, lost in self-pity, thinking he knew best for them both. Hell, he’d screwed his life up so badly, he had no right to think he’d run hers better than she could.

  She’d done pretty good all by herself, raised two boys on her own, put her dreams on hold for them, and now she finally got the chance to think about herself, what she wanted.

  He’d tried to fuck that up.

  He kept the words inside about the stress of being with an agent, and how Jimmy’s picture could one day end up on the SNB’s memorial page.

  Charlotte heard Bo and Lucky’s stories—the ones they shared with her, anyway. She understood the risks a badge brought. Hell, look what having a brother in drug enforcement nearly did to her.

  Even though he knew Lucky objected, Jimmy had charged to her side the day she’d been attacked. Insisted she get checked out. Took Moose to the vet and stayed with him until the doctor finished surgery and placed the dog into a kennel. No, Lucky had no right to say who his sister could or couldn’t see. As much as he didn’t want to admit to the truth, she’d made a good choice in Jimmy. Sure, he’d had a little wobble in life, but nothing compared to Lucky’s.

  Heart so heavy it might soon meet his ass, he said, “I’m sorry, Char. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  She wiped at her face again with her hand and sniffled. “I know that. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  They sat in silence a few minutes. Both said, “I love you” at the same time. He hugged her tighter.

  Maybe a dose of the truth might help. “He kicked my ass, you know.”

  She released a watery laugh. “I know. Served you right.”

  Yes, it did.

  They held onto each other as Bo tiptoed through the front door, caught sight of them, and quietly slipped down the hall.

  Moose butted Lucky’s hand, and Cat Lucky hopped into Charlotte’s lap, breaking them apart.

  Two AM found Lucky wide awake, stomach grumbling. What the hell happened to the burgers he’d eaten not so long ago? Why the hell did he have to crave weird foods at weird hours? Wasn’t that Charlotte’s job?

  He pulled on a pair of sweatpants, looked in on Alejandro, and paused for a few moments, watching the rise and fall of Bo’s chest. When they’d first met, Lucky suffered from insomnia, and Bo couldn’t bring himself to sleep in a bed.

  If Lucky accomplished nothing else in life, at least he’d helped Bo get over the fear that bed equals the house burning down with no way to escape.

  He tiptoed out of the room and down the hall. Light peeked under the kitchen door. Either they’d forgotten to turn the light out, or someone else shared Lucky’s idea of a late-night snack.

  No alarms, so no intruder. Keith made doubly sure of their security system, at Walter’s instruction.

  He opened the door. Charlotte stood before an open cabinet, a jar of peanut butter under her arm, holding a loaf of bread in one hand and a plate in the other. She glanced at Lucky, sat the bread on the counter, and pulled out another plate.

  “Milk?” Lucky asked.

  Charlotte nodded and deposited her burdens on the counter. A huge bowl of banana pudding sat front and center in the refrigerator.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Lisa brought over banana pudding. Get me a bowl, okay?”

  By the time Lucky filled two glasses with milk and fixed two bowls of banana pudding, she’d added a saucer to the mix onto which she dropped pieces of diced banana. Without a word, she mixed in peanut butter, stirred awhile, then smoothed the mixture on bread to make two sandwiches—one on each plate. She opened a can and added a pineapple ring to hers.

  “Here,” she said, shuffling toward the kitchen table and settling in her usual chair. “You know, it’s usually the daddy who shares cravings with the mother, not her brother.” Charlotte dunked her sandwich into the banana pudding and took a bite. “Oh, that is so good. You really should try it with pineapple.”

  Lucky joined her at the table. “When we were young ’uns, we always did thing
s together.” Not pineapple in a peanut butter and banana sandwich, though. However, he’d never actually tried peanut butter and banana with banana pudding. All good things on their own. Why the hell not combine them?

  “True that.” She touched her sandwich to Lucky’s in toast and took another bite.

  Lucky dipped his in pudding and shoved a bite into his mouth. Not bad. He’d have ’splaining to do if Bo caught him. “I am the kid’s dad. Or one of them.”

  “That you are.” Charlotte rubbed “The Bump” with one hand, clinging to her sandwich with the other. “Too bad you couldn’t carry Junior on your own like in one of those male pregnancy stories I read online.”

  Male pregnancy? No. Just… no. “Junior? You didn’t…”

  Charlotte huffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s a figure of speech. Jeez. We agreed not to find out, right?”

  Well, Lucky didn’t exactly remember agreeing, but if Charlotte and Bo said he did, no use fighting. Neither lost arguments to Lucky often.

  At last they finished their sandwiches and polished off their milk. Thank God, no lactose intolerance in the Lucklighter family. Lucky dug through the refrigerator. Healthy, healthy, healthy, ah! “Dills or gherkins?”

  Charlotte tipped her head to the side, brow scrunched in concentration. “We got bread and butter pickles in there?”

  Lucky ferreted through the offerings. “’Fraid not.”

  “Gherkins, then. I’ll ask Mom to bring some down the next time she visits.”

  Lucky hid the pudding behind a gallon of milk, partly to keep it from disappearing too fast, and partly to keep Charlotte from mixing pudding and pickles—and therefore encouraging him to try a combination he’d never get over.

  Jar in hand, he returned to the table. He’d be so glad to eat normal foods again. Then again, normal had a tendency to be highly overrated. “Look— about earlier—”

  Charlotte cut him off with a raised hand. “I get it. I’m still your baby sister and you want to protect me, the reason I only gave you a love tap and didn’t lay you out on the floor.”