The Last Call (MMG Book 5)

by Hilliard, R. B.

  Everyone has skeletons. Some may be buried deeper than others, but nevertheless, they are always there if you dig deep enough. Neel Garrison was not a foolish man, but neither was I. If he thought he could move into my town, poach my clients, and threaten my partner without repercussions, he could think again. Given enough time, I bet I could find Neel’s skeletons. After all, with LASH at my disposal, I had a big ass shovel.

  Ellison called as we were closing shop that night to inform me that she, Mac, and the gang were all over at Joss and Kurt’s hanging out. I passed the word on to Gage. When he offered to stop at the store, I asked him to pick up a twelve pack of beer and Ellison’s favorite bottle of red wine. By my estimation, her fake period was over. This meant it was officially time to turn up the heat. By the end of the night, the cat would be out of the bag, and I would be buried balls deep inside my very pregnant wife. I couldn’t wait.

  “It’s open!” Kurt shouted in response to my knock on the kitchen door. As I made my way into the house I was greeted by smells of onion and garlic accompanied by the sound of a football game on the television. I stopped at the entrance to the living room and took it all in. Joss was curled up with Kurt on one corner of their dark leather sofa. Sarah and Cas occupied the other corner. I tried not to let the sight of them playing tonsil hockey ruin the moment, but seriously, could they not find a room somewhere? Dillon was sitting on the floor holding a sleeping Amelia with Isabella leaning against him. Both had their eyes glued to the game. Mac was playing trucks with Piper, and my wife was holding Leo. Her long blonde hair hung in waves down her back. Due to Mac’s grabby hands, she rarely wore it down anymore. Our eyes met across the room. Her smile was followed by a guilty look, before she looked away. We both knew the score, and tonight we were going to settle it once and for all.

  “Daddeeeee!” Mac shouted. My anger at Ellison was replaced by a burning love as I watched my son stand up on his chubby little legs and run straight to me. I swept him into my arms, and smiled at the sound of his belly laugh.

  “Did you have a good day, little man?” He grabbed my face between his little hands and nodded, yes. “Did you take care of Mommy?”

  “Mommy nap wif me,” he informed me.

  “Mommy took a nap with you?” I clarified, and he nodded his head, yes. I just bet she did, I thought.

  “Joss, love of my life, you made me chili!” Gage called out from the kitchen. The booze had finally arrived.

  “I wish!” Joss shouted back. Kurt pulled her close and rubbed his hand protectively over her belly. I could tell by the look on his face he was worried. I knew all too well what he was feeling. The possibility of going through that nightmare again scared the living shit out of me.

  Gage stuck his head around the corner and asked if I wanted a beer.

  “I’ll get it,” I told him. I smiled down at Mac. “Hey, bud, what do you say we go get Momma a nice glass of wine?” I made sure to say it loud enough for Ellison to hear.

  “Get me one while you’re at it!” Joss called out. I cut my eyes to Kurt, and he shook his head, no. “Don’t tell him no,” Joss huffed. I left them there to argue it out and headed for the kitchen. Piper trailed after me. When she spotted the bottle of wine her eyes bugged. Okay, so maybe I went a little overboard.

  “You owe me seventy bucks for that fucker,” Gage said, after he kissed his wife hello. Make that a lot overboard.

  “Hold Bruiser for a minute,” I told him, and handed Mac to Gage so I could settle up with him.

  Sarah stepped into the kitchen and gave me an arm squeeze. “Ooooh, good wine,” she cooed. She held her arms out to Mac as he lunged for her. She settled him on her hip before asking, “What’s the special occasion?”

  Piper’s eyes narrowed in on me. “Yeah, what’s the special occasion?”

  “Pour,” I told Piper. She gave me a stern look, and I added, “Please.” After she poured the glass of wine, I grabbed it and my bottle of beer before heading back into the living room.

  On approach I could see that Ellison had handed Leo back to Dillon. He was a cute little booger. I lowered myself onto the floor beside her, and after giving her a scorching hot kiss, I handed her the glass of wine.

  “Thanks,” she said. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and a really fucked up thought slithered into my head. What if she wasn’t telling me about the baby because there was something wrong? Don’t fucking go there, I told myself.

  I fully expected Ellison to make up an excuse as to why she couldn’t drink the wine. When she turned it down, which I knew she would, I would definitively have my answer. She didn’t turn it down. In fact, she did just the opposite. She lifted the glass to her nose and inhaled deeply. Then she lowered the glass to her lips and took a drink – because that’s what it was, a drink – not a sip, not a taste, but a drink. I fought the urge to slap the glass from her hands. What was she thinking? I’d read all the books when she was pregnant with Mac. They all said the same thing: alcohol in the first trimester will fuck up your kid. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she hummed in delight as she swallowed down the poisonous liquid.

  “Thanks, babe, I so needed that,” she murmured in that sexy voice that always made my dick hard. My dick may be an idiot, but I was not. My wife needed a serious spanking.

  “Here, let me get that for you before you spill it,” I said, and before she could take a second sip, and do more damage to our unborn child, I lifted the wine glass from her hand and placed it out of her reach.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed.

  “You want chili?” Kurt asked from the kitchen.

  Pretending I couldn’t hear him, I said, “Be right back.” On the way to the kitchen, I made sure to take my empty beer bottle and her full wine glass with me.

  All through dinner Ellison shot me worried looks. She should be worried. She was the one lying, not me. After dinner, Mac threw the mother of all temper tantrums, and in the blink of an eye, we were packed up and on our way home. This was fine with me, as I was more than ready to deal with my wife.

  * * *

  Ellie

  Max knows I’m pregnant.

  The entire ride home, those words skated through my head. After the other night, when I lied to him about having my period, and then almost let him seduce me, I fully expected him to confront me. He didn’t say a word, and after a day or so, I began to relax. I shouldn’t have.

  He’s testing me.

  Earlier, when I took the sip of wine and steam practically poured from his nostrils, I suspected he knew. When he snatched the glass from my hand and placed it on the table furthest from where I was sitting, I knew he knew.

  What was I thinking?

  As I glanced over the back of my seat at our peacefully sleeping son, I wondered what was wrong with me. When the doctor confirmed my pregnancy this morning, I should have jumped for joy. Instead, I felt fear…followed by guilt. Max wasn’t the only one traumatized by Mac’s birth. I still had dreams about the kidnapping, and I could barely stand the site of blood. God, when Piper and Reyn were shot, there was so much blood. The night I talked to Max about growing our family and he told me he wanted to wait, I was shocked. What happened to three kids and moving to a bigger home with a wrap-around porch? I’ll tell you what happened. Dooley Shane. Hadn’t he taken enough from us? It was as if Max telling me no triggered something buried deep inside of me. From that moment on, I became obsessed with the idea of having another child. Dooley Shane was dead and buried. The hell if he was going to take one more thing away from us. In time, I would have convinced Max to try again, but then time decided for us-time and my husband’s drunken refusal to wear a condom. Max was going to be so angry with me.

  On the way home from my doctor’s appointment this morning, I stopped by my dad’s place. Ever since he’d been shacking up with Nexi, I could barely stand to be around him. We’d spoken briefly the other day, so I knew that she was out of town this week. I was such a horrible daughter, but I seriously disliked
the woman.

  “Ellison, what a surprise,” Dad greeted me at the door. After pulling me in for a hug, he held the door open, and said, “Come in. I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee.”

  “Uh, Thanks, Dad, but I’m going to have to pass on the coffee.” He gave me a strange look, but I didn’t explain.

  “I’ve missed seeing you,” he said, once we were comfortably seated in the living room.

  “I miss you, too. Things have been…busy,” I said, for lack of a better word.

  “Is everything okay with Mac and Max?”

  I waved my hand dismissively in the air. “Yes, they’re fine. Everything is fine.”

  A skeptical look appeared on his face. “Is everything okay with you?” I reached inside my purse and pulled out the sonogram picture. His eyes lit up when he realized what it was. “Wow,” he whispered. The reverence in his tone as he looked at the picture of my unborn child brought tears to my eyes. At least one person is happy about this pregnancy, I thought.

  I let him soak it in for a moment longer. Then I told him about my conversation with Max and why I was afraid to tell my husband I was pregnant. Pretty soon I was divulging all of my worries and fears.

  “What if Max doesn’t want the baby? What if he no longer wants me once he finds out I’m pregnant? And it’s not only Max. It’s me. Is there room enough in my heart for another child? Can I love him or her as much as I love Mac?” I knew I was being irrational, but the fear was real, and no matter how many times I shoved it down, it clawed its way back to the surface.

  When I was done spewing out my insecurities, my dad just shook his head at me. “Do you really want me to tell you what I think?” I was pretty sure I already knew. One way or the other I was going to have to deal with my husband.

  Should I tell Max now or should I wait? I knew that Max wouldn’t lose his cool in front of Mac. Max’s phone buzzed as we pulled into the driveway. He snagged it from the dash, and glanced at the screen. “What the hell?” he muttered.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Someone’s in our house. Hit the door lock and stay put.”

  “What?” I screeched.

  “Hush,” Max commanded, and covered my mouth with his hand. Panic swirled through me. What did he mean someone was in our house?

  “I need you to keep it together, okay?” I nodded my head, yes, and he took his hand away.

  “Someone’s in our house?” I whispered.

  Instead of answering my question, he leaned forward and kissed me. Then he opened his car door and slipped out. My heart beat out of my chest as I watched him disappear through the gate that led to our backyard. Someone was in our house, and Max was heading that direction. Was he crazy? After waiting for what seemed an eternity, I checked to make sure Mac was still asleep. He was out like a light. I considered my options. I needed to make sure my husband was okay, but I couldn’t take Mac with me. What do I do? A few more minutes passed. Not able to stand it any longer, I said, “Screw it,” and leaned over and turned off the truck. Mac would be safer locked in the car than with me. I grabbed the keys from the ignition, and, as quietly as possible, opened my car door, slipped out, and closed it back. Then I hit the lock button on the key fob. Please let Max be okay, I thought as I made my way to the back of the house. The kitchen lights were on and the blinds were open, but I was too far away to see inside. After checking to make sure Mac was okay, I darted across the yard and skirted around the hot tub. I pressed my back against the side of the house and tried to catch my breath. I seriously needed to get in shape. My heart skipped a thousand beats, and my stomach did a free fall when I heard Max’s raised voice coming from inside the house. I slowly peered around the window ledge. There stood my formidable husband with both arms crossed and an angry scowl on his face. Below him sat what looked like…a kid.

  What in the world?

  When Max leaned down and grabbed the front of the kid’s shirt, my maternal instincts kicked in. “Max McLellan, don’t you dare!” I shouted. Max’s eyes jerked up and landed on me. The kid’s head shot around, and I gasped out loud. Staring back at me was the spitting image of my husband.

  Jerking open the door, I glared at Max. The kid looked back and forth between the two of us, and Max shook his head in obvious exasperation. “That’s just my wife,” he announced.

  “Who are you?” I asked the boy. His eyes were a darker blue, but otherwise, he looked like a mix between Max and Sarah.

  “If you’d stayed in the car with our sleeping son like I asked, and not turned into a super sleuth, I’d have answers for you by now,” Max griped.

  “Look, uh, I don’t want to cause problems,” the kid stammered.

  “Yeah, then why’d you break into my house?” Max countered.

  “I had nowhere to go.” He answered so quietly that I almost missed what he’d said.

  “What do you mean you have nowhere to go?” I asked.

  He stood up and I was surprised to see he was almost as tall as Max. “This was a bad idea. I’ll just go.”

  “Sit down!” Max and I both ordered. He quickly plopped back down on the chair.

  “You’ve got three seconds to talk or I’m calling the police and having you charged with breaking and entering. Who in the fuck are you? Where did you come from, and what do you mean you have nowhere to go?” Max asked.

  “Hold that thought,” I told them both. Then I darted past the two of them and out the front door. Thank God Mac was still sound asleep in his car seat. As quickly as humanly possible, I extracted him from the car and carried him into the house. There was no way Max would wait for me to get Mac upstairs and ready for bed, so I simply deposited him on our bed and stacked pillows around him in case he decided to roll. I made it back into the living room right as the stranger who looked just like the teenage version of my husband began his story.

  “My name is Cole. Well, actually it’s Malcolm Avery, but I hate the name Malcolm, so I go by Cole.” Oh my God, I thought.

  “Malcolm?” Max quietly asked.

  “Yeah. It’s my dad’s first name,” he answered.

  “And Avery?” I interjected.

  His eyes turned to me. “My mom’s last name. Look, do you want to hear my story or not?” he challenged. Max’s eyes shot to me. Max has a brother.

  “Go on,” Max ordered.

  “Malcolm took off when I was eight. Mom worked as a waitress and we got by. That is, until last year when she got sick. By then I was old enough to get a part time job mowing lawns after school. Mom died a few months ago. When I told my boss, he started asking questions. The next thing I knew, there was a lady at my door asking to see my mom. I didn’t know what to do, so I lied and said she was out. She said she’d be back on Friday. After school on Friday, I decided to go home and change before heading to my boss’s house where we load up the trucks. There were two police cars in front of my house. As I rode my bike past, I saw the lady talking to my neighbors.” His eyes shot between me and Max, before landing on Max. “I didn’t know what to do, so I ran.”

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Sixteen.”

  “Bullshit,” Max growled.

  Cole scowled at him. “Okay, fourteen.” Max’s eyes shot to mine, and I could tell we were thinking the same thing. He was just a baby.

  “How did you find me?” Max asked.

  “A few weeks before Mom died, she handed me an envelope. She said to open it if anything happened to her.”

  “Let me guess, you opened it that night,” Max smirked.

  “The second I left her room,” Cole answered. It was uncanny how much alike they were.

  “What was in the envelope?” Max asked.

  “Your name and number and some papers,” he answered. Max held out his hand. Cole reached inside his jacket and pulled out a manila envelope. Max took it and opened it up. After several minutes of poring over the documents, he slid them back in and handed it back to Cole.

  “Are you cool with tak
ing a blood test?” Max asked.

  “I hate needles,” Cole answered.

  “Is that a yes?” Max asked. Cole jerked his head in consent. Max’s eyes shifted to me. “Are you comfortable with him staying in the guest room?”

  “Of course I am,” I snapped.

  “If you so much as fart the wrong way, you’re out,” Max warned.

  “Max!” I scolded.

  “Are we clear?” Max directed at Cole.

  Cole responded with a wide-eyed head nod. My husband could be really scary when he wanted to be.

  “Do you have your shit, or do you want me to drive you over to your place to get it?” Max asked.

  “I have a backpack stowed behind the fence,” Cole answered.

  After a long pause, Max asked, “How did you bypass the alarm?”

  Cole shrugged. “It was easy.”

  “You can show me tomorrow. Come,” Max ordered.

  As I watched the two of them disappear out the front door, a million thoughts raced through my head. Max has a brother. Then it hit me. This means Sarah has a brother, too. I wanted to call Piper, but knew I couldn’t. This was Max’s secret to tell, not mine. I had my own secret I needed to come clean about. My heart ached for Cole. Like Max and Sarah, he’d lost everything. The sound of Mac’s cry jerked me from my thoughts.

  Max and Cole came through the door as I was carrying Mac upstairs to get him changed for bed.

  “Dadadadadada,” Mac chanted. Max held out his arms and Mac lunged for him. Cole watched Mac like a hawk, and I wondered what he was thinking.

  “Hey bud, this is Cole. Can you say Cole?” Max asked.

  “Cole!” Mac shouted. Max and Cole both smiled, and the last thread of doubt disappeared from my mind. Max had a brother, which meant I had a brother-in-law, and my son had an uncle. Whether we planned it or not, Max and I were finally getting our big family.

  Chapter Eight

  Cas and Sarah

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