Absolute Valor (Southern Justice #3)

by Cayce Poponea

  Removing myself from the luxury of the shower was more difficult than I planned. The various angled jets tempted me to stay in until the water ran cold. I couldn’t afford to be a burden, not when I could smell freedom in the air. The glass enclosure sealed tight and I had to give it a good push in order to open the door. Cooler air rushed in, as I reach to the left for the towel I tucked away before climbing in. Thick, soft cotton—so different from the dollar store finds I had to leave behind in the trailer. Acting more like a flannel blanket than any towel I’ve ever worked with, the moisture was whisked away in minimal time. I loved the way my skin felt after a long hot bath or shower, my muscles were relaxed and my mind was well on its way to sleepy.

  Chase had taken charge at the shop, but Priscilla ignored his request for me to sleep in his old room, instead placing me in, what I considered a hotel suite. Beige walls, pinstriped with lighter shades and edged in gold, a crystal chandelier hung over a four post bed, the light reflecting tiny rainbows around the room. Dozens of fluffy pillows sat upright against the wooden headboard. A crisp white comforter and matching sheets welcomed me with their silky softness. The edge of the bed so tall it hit near my belly button, a quick look around revealed a matching step stool, which I giddily used to leap into bed, my body bouncing in the center as a result.

  An antique clock on a far desk let me know it was one in the morning, and a vase of fresh flowers took stage on the fireplace mantel across from the end of the bed. How cozy a fire would be on a cold Charleston night, hunkered down in the fluffiness of this bed, warm and toasty I am certain. Thinking of a fire shifted to hot chocolate, but the warmth of the season dictated a glass of tea or water.

  Slipping out of bed, the way down much easier than the journey up, I opened the door and listened to the sounds of the house, finding it as silent as a tomb. Priscilla had assured me I was welcome to anything in the kitchen, nothing in there was off limits. She was a smart woman, knowing I would have placed restrictions on what I used, not wanting to wear out the welcome before the sun came up.

  Walking back up the long hall, I saw photos of the boys as they grew up on either side. Dylan in his football gear, his helmet tucked under his arm. Austin standing beside a trophy, the top of it taller than he was. Chase in his uniform, his face blank with eyes full of pride. At the top of the steps, was a family portrait. Priscilla sitting in an ornate chair surrounded by five men, all of them familiar, except one. The older gentleman, had dark hair slicked back against his head, big bright blue eyes and an aristocratic smile, his bow tie exuding class. The Morgans held his memory high, finding little fault in their beloved grandfather. I couldn’t avoid wondering what he would think about me?

  As quietly as possible, I took each step in anticipation of a loose board. Silly, I know, Priscilla was too proud of a woman to have anything in disrepair in her home. As I stepped on the final step, I looked both directions and questioned which way the kitchen could possibly be. My left was completely black, no open doors to give the impression of anything other than an office or two. To my right, a tiny sliver of light came from a room at the end of yet another long hallway.

  Approaching cautiously, a habit I’d picked up living the way I have, I heard male voices carrying down the hall, bits and pieces of their conversation making it to my ears. “How long before they confirm the fingerprints match?” Austin questioned, the sound of what I assumed was his keyboard clicking away.

  “Since the feds are involved, not long. They have a way bigger budget than Charleston County.” Dylan replied, sarcasm lacing his voice.

  I moved closer to the voices, a small alcove providing me prime concealment. If I listened long enough, maybe I wouldn’t have to talk with Dylan after all. “I know I said this before, but I am sorry for letting her come between us. Neither one of you would have ever let this happen.” Pushing my shoulder into the edge of the wall, I’m able to see into the room with all three brothers standing around a large island, Dean leaning against the counter.

  “Forget about it, let’s focus on putting all our efforts into her conviction. If this is reading the way I think it is, we have a situation bigger than Lighthouse.” Austin’s old company? Forrester and his new wife had been detained trying to leave the country. Last thing I’d read on them, they were having a difficult time getting a private attorney, with all their assets frozen they were as broke as I am.

  “Austin is right, Virginia appears to have a long list of crimes. If the fingerprints from the crime scene are a match for hers, she won’t see the light of day for a long time.” This had to be what Dylan meant; she’d obviously done something before getting with Lucas.

  “Chase, your Momma wanted you to see this, something she did all on her own.” Dean pulled a thick manila envelope from behind him and slid it across the bar to Chase’s waiting hands. He opened it carefully, pulling what looked to be photos from the envelope. Chase laid them on the counter, staring for several minutes. “Hard to believe it’s the same girl, isn’t it?” Chase looks up to his father and brothers, as Austin pulled the photos in his direction. “Your momma spoke with the wife of the dentist, the one Harmony, or rather Virginia, said she worked for. At least she did, until his wife found her having sex with him in his office.” Chase leaned back in the highback chair, his hands clasped behind his head.

  “Don’t get all bent out of shape, bro. Even if we’d showed you these pictures when momma first got them, you wouldn’t have believed her.”

  Chase lowered his hands, “How do you figure? Those are pretty damning.”

  Dylan shakes his head, reaching forward for a cup of, what I can only assume is coffee. “Because Virginia was giving you the one thing which makes every man blind.” Austin nodded his head as Chase looked to his father.

  “Well apparently she was giving her pussy to every man except me.”

  Dylan choked on his coffee. Austin laughed as he made sure Dylan was all right, slapping him hard on his back.

  “Virginia was too twisted for color television. Hell, Dylan, she would have scared you straight into church on a Thursday afternoon.” I’d heard rumors of how Dylan was before he met Claire, subscribing to a particular form of intimacy that quite a fair share of Charleston woman were willing to give him.

  “And on that note, I’m headed to bed. We have a good amount of driving tomorrow and some precious cargo to take care of.”

  Not wanting to get caught eavesdropping, I slipped back up the steps as quietly as possible.

  It’s Better to Beg for Forgiveness than to Ask for Permission

  “None of this is your fault, you know.” Inhaling deeply, I leaned back in the chair as I released the breath, attempting to rid myself of the validity of his words. Most of my attention was fixated on the green numbers on the microwave, wishing like hell I could freeze time, go back, and have a do over. “Some of it is, some of it isn’t.” I accepted, knowing I could have ignored her email and not spoken with her. I could have responded to the red flags snapping in the breeze when I first came back into town.

  “Talk to me, Chase. What’s weighing the heaviest?” Not once in the time we were little did daddy ever fail to stop and listen to what we needed to say. His door, and heart, were always open, even if we’d been in trouble with him or Momma.

  “I can’t figure out what she meant when she told Audrey she chose me off a list. What list? It’s been how many years since that day at the home? My last name changed, hell, I moved over three thousand miles away to live in the middle of the desert.” I spent more time sleeping under tents and hillsides than I did on cots inside buildings. Since I worked with SEALs, my identity and location were top secret. “How hard was it to get to me after granddaddy died?”

  Daddy nodded his head, “We called the Red Cross like you had originally said when you got out of boot camp. They got back to us within the hour, explaining there was no Chase Morgan in the US Marines. I phoned a few contacts in Washington, and then got a call about two hours later you w
ere on a plane to the states.”

  We hadn’t been back for more than a few hours after having successfully escorted the medical convoy to the village where they were needed. Sawyer, our Chief, had been bitten by the admiration bug with a pretty civilian nurse, Avery Cutler, and was already devising a plan to get back out there to see her. A few of the guys were deep in a game of Texas hold em’, as we dug into a box of MREs. I didn’t make it past ripping the top off when someone shouted, “Attention on deck!” In walked a line of brass, including a three star General in the center of the pack. Everyone jumped to attention, dead silence filling the room. It wasn’t everyday a man of his caliber came unannounced to such a remote location, security is always a first priority when that many stars are involved. He narrowed in on my Lieutenant, speaking quiet enough I couldn’t hear. My heart tried crawling out of my chest when LT nodded his head. “Yes Sir.” Turning to the group with heaviness in his face, “Diesel, front and center. “

  On the way back to the main base, riding in the General’s MRAP, he spoke of what a great man my granddaddy had been, how he had met him once at a USO event. “Son, give my condolences to your family.” He offered as I shook his hand before leaving his vehicle.

  “Chase, I wasn’t going to bring this up, but since you’ve mentioned it.” He didn’t need to ask the question, I knew the second he admitted to calling the Red Cross what was on his mind. “When your granddaddy passed, your momma was a wreck.” When I came through the door of the house, Priscilla wrapped herself around me, hugging me as if her life depended on it. “I never told her about the call from the Red Cross.” Of course he didn’t, Dean Morgan was a man of honor and would never let momma worry unnecessarily. “I phoned Senator Conner’s office, he told me your file was sealed and I would need to speak with Gerald Meyer.” Puzzle pieces started moving into place, Gerald Meyer, more commonly known as the Secretary of Defense. “Your granddaddy had helped to get him appointed to his position. He let me know he couldn’t tell me your location, but he could take care of it on his end.”

  “You’ve heard of SEAL team six?”

  His eyes flashed with recognition, nodding his head cautiously, “The men who killed Bin Laudon. Chase…”

  I didn’t let him finish. I wasn’t involved, and would never claim to be one of the team active in the mission. “No,” I held up my hand to stop him. “Those guys are a different team than the one I was attached to. Was, being the operative word. When I made my decision to leave the military, we sat down as a group, and I let them know what I wanted to do. I still keep in contact with them and they know they always have a place to stay if they need it. My team is more than a bunch of guys I walked the sand with, they’re my brothers.”

  “Son, you never said anything about going to training.”

  Shaking my head, not able to dive too much into what had happened. “I wasn’t a SEAL, Dad. My job was to guard them, to have their backs, and keep the bullets from taking one of them out.” Dad was quiet for a while, he has always been a thinker, evaluating what is said and dissecting each part until he could catalog it. “Which brings me back to Virginia. If my own parents couldn’t get a message to me, how in the hell did she find me?”

  “It’s a good question, but also one you may never get the answer to.”

  I remained silent, the possibilities too heavy to ignore. “She’s given me enough reasons to question her. Like, when I came home for the funeral, I sent her an email I was in town and wanted to meet up. It took her a long time to tell me she was busy. When I got back to the team, they tried to tell me the same thing as Dylan and Austin, but I refused to listen to them.” Listening to the words as they left my mouth and hearing them as they echoed in the room, I felt like an idiot for not waking up sooner.

  Realization struck me, nagging at the back of my mind until I couldn’t ignore it. “You know, I’ve been getting calls from a credit card company for a line of credit I never opened.” Daddy adjusted his arms, crossing them over his chest, but remained silent. “Lainie is looking into it for me, following the trail to see where it leads.”

  Daddy leaned forward, his momentum placing him closer to me. “You think the two are connected?” I shrugged my shoulders, “Who knows at this point?” I admit honestly.

  “Well, your brother will do a thorough investigation, and you can always ask Austin for his opinion.” I needed to talk with my middle brother, to mend the fence I’d destroyed. “Let me know what Lainie finds out, my office will handle any paperwork you need filed.”

  According to the time on the microwave, it was two thirty in the morning. The sun would be up before I was ready, yet my mind refused to shut off and I knew sleep would elude me tonight. Daddy leaned back and opened the small fridge built into the island. Less than ten seconds later, he placed down a bottle of Jack Daniels, the glass fogged instantly from the change in temperature. Beside the bottle, he placed two shot glasses and tipped the bottle of Jack, filling them to the rim. Where Granddaddy was a fan of Hennessy, Dean Morgan enjoyed Kentucky Bourbon. “It’s been awhile since we’ve had a chat like this.” Sliding one glass in my direction, he took the other in his hand, and then held it up, waiting to toast with me. After clinking my glass with his, I tossed back the shot, welcoming the burn traveling down my throat.

  “How about you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

  When I was a senior in high school, Daddy had to come pick me up from school for fighting. He managed to talk the principle out of suspending me, guaranteeing him I would be dealt with. Momma was away with a friend of hers and Dylan and Austin were already in college. He brought me in here, and we sat down just as we are now and he poured the same drink. He asked me what happened, I gave him the same story I did coach when he broke up the fight. After I swallowed the shot of Jack, he asked me the same question. I admitted it was over a girl, one I had no interest in, other than a friend. Her brother was the third string quarterback and got in my face when he found a piece of paper with my name written all over it, a red heart drawn in place of the letter ‘O’ in my last name.

  Daddy gave me a look and then asked me to tell him what was really wrong. “When Dylan went off to school, it was a little different, but Austin was still here to hang around with. This year they’re both gone and…”

  “And you miss your brothers,” he finished for me. He’d cleaned up the evidence of my underage drinking, told me to pack a bag, and then called Granddaddy. The three of us spent the weekend at our cabin in Tennessee.

  “I’m pretty sure I spooked Audrey.” I could still see the look on her face as I let my tongue roll, telling her how I had a list of things I wanted to do with her. It’s the truth, I feel this incredible surge when I’m with her. I don’t even want to think about how I feel when she’s off somewhere.

  “Spooked her? How?”

  “Audrey has this look of determination in her eyes. It’s almost like she has this goal she’s trying to reach. I’m captivated by the fierceness of it and I want to stand with her, helping her with the struggle.”

  Moving around the island and taking a seat in the chair beside me, daddy propped his feet up on the edge of the island, arms crossed over his chest. “So you want to be her hero? To ride in on your white horse, slay the dragon, and then move on to the next damsel in distress.”

  I hung my head, “No, I don’t want to be her hero.” I sighed, frustrated. “The first time I saw her get punched by Lucas, something in me snapped.” My eyes were still downcast, searching my memories for the right words to come out.

  “A week before I came home, this new kid, Ramsey, came into camp. This kid had watched too many movies and couldn’t wait to see some bullets fly. Every once in awhile, we would get some fucker taking shots at the trucks coming in and out of the camp. LT ordered myself and Tombstone to get a fix on this sniper and take him out. Ramsay got word of what we were doing and wanted to go with us, bragging about how he grew up in West Virginia and shot everything the family ate. To
mbstone, who was originally from Arizona, was another EOD who had a high kill ratio.”

  Daddy held his hand up to stop me, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait a second, you’ve lost me with your codes. Tombstone?”

  Forgetting for a moment I wasn’t talking to another Marine or SEAL, it was too easy to speak in acronyms. “Sorry, Tombstone is his call sign, the name he’s given by his team. It’s usually associated with what he does or where he’s from. Chief is Sawyer’s rank, and when you reach the level of Chief, it’s considered disrespectful to call him anything else. EOD, is the guy who can shoot at an expert level and or disarm bombs and create them.”

  Daddy nodded and listened intently, I could see the gears in his brain working, formulating his next question. “And what about you, did they give you a call sign?” It was a double-edged sword to have your team give you the name, which would follow you your entire career. On one hand, it was an honor, and on the other it could be embarrassing.

  “Yes, Sir. The first time I went out with the SEAL team, they called me Morgan, but after I showed them what I could do, Chief gave me my call sign.”

  We had been called into Kosovo, some Ambassador’s kid in the wrong place at the wrong time. Our mission was to go get her. After we got a positive ID on her and confirmed her location, they line dropped us onto the side of a hill. We hiked thirteen klicks, wading through some of the most disgusting, mosquito infested, water I’ve ever seen. Doc, our corpsman, found her tied to a tree. She was barely breathing, nearly dead. We got her, but on the way out, our rendezvous boat lost its engine and we had to hunker down. With the girl not looking good, we set up a new extract zone, putting us in the heart of the nasty water. I’d pulled a few tricks from my time as a kid with older brothers who are smart as fuck, those poor bastards never knew what hit them. Chief pulled us aside after we got back and handed the girl off to her parents. Said I had the face of one of those Hollywood action heroes, getting the girl while blowing shit up.