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Staying For Good (A Most Likely To Novel Book 2)

Page 26

by Catherine Bybee


  Lights from the trailer spilled into the rain, cars were everywhere.

  Their seat belts were off before they skidded to a stop.

  “I go in first!” Her gun was already out, her feet running.

  She heard Zoe scream, saw through the door when Zoe lifted her arms as Ziggy stood over her with something in his hands.

  Before Jo could fire off a round, an explosion from inside the home stopped her feet at the door.

  Luke ran into her back.

  Ziggy dropped the lamp and looked down at his chest.

  Blood pooled in the center.

  Ziggy turned white, his face tilted up. “You bitch.” He attempted a step, and another round caught him as he took his last breath and fell on top of Zoe and Zane.

  Sheryl stood there, her eyes glossed over, her face void of expression.

  “Zoe?”

  Jo kept an arm out, keeping Luke back.

  “Sheryl?” Jo kept her gun in her hand until Sheryl lowered hers.

  Jo moved quickly, capturing Sheryl before she collapsed and removing the revolver from her hand.

  Behind her, Zoe screamed, “Get him off me.”

  Luke pushed Ziggy’s body away and pulled Zoe into his arms. “I’ve got you, Zoe. It’s okay. It’s over.”

  She moved to Ziggy’s sprawled body, checked his neck for a pulse. Not that she needed to, his dead stare told her it was over.

  Jo met Luke’s horrified gaze then reached for the radio pinned to her chest. “Glynis, you there?”

  “That’s a big ten-four, Sheriff.”

  Glynis’s jovial voice stood in stark contrast to the scene in front of her. “We need an ambulance at the Brown residence.”

  “An ambulance?”

  Jo turned her stare to the unmoving bastard in the room. “And the coroner.”

  Zoe didn’t want the attention, or the cameras.

  It appeared she wasn’t going to get what she wanted, so she moved through the days that followed Ziggy’s death, ignoring everyone that wasn’t part of her core family.

  Sheryl sat in a temporary cell in Eugene pending second-degree murder charges. While she may have been trying to protect her adult children, her life at the time of Ziggy’s shooting wasn’t a cut-and-dried case of self-defense. She’d purchased the gun before Ziggy was put away the first time. He didn’t know she had it hidden in a heating vent in her bedroom.

  Zoe was confident that in time, her mother would be free.

  Or would she?

  The image of Ziggy falling on Zoe in a bloody heap woke her up every night. If it wasn’t for Luke being there, holding her, she would probably need inpatient therapy. Zoe could only imagine what her mother was going through.

  Zane spent three days in ICU and the next few on an orthopedic unit, nursing a broken collarbone and wrist, and a concussion.

  Miss Gina pulled in Zanya and Blaze, put them in the blue room on the third floor to keep the guests on the lower floors from complaining about a baby crying.

  The day Zoe put her father in the ground, the sun was unusually warm.

  More than one person told her she didn’t need to go through the effort. What they didn’t understand was that she wasn’t burying him for his sake, but for hers . . . and her siblings’.

  Luke drove her Land Rover with Zanya, Zane, and Blaze in the back.

  A caravan of cars followed them to the cemetery. There wouldn’t be a service, for no one had anything good to say about the soul that once filled the dead man’s body.

  The minister of the Little White Church told her he’d be at the site to say a few words to help them with this day.

  Zoe agreed and said nothing more.

  Zane carried Blaze in his baby carrier with Zanya by his side as they walked over graves to the site destined to hold Ziggy forever.

  Dark sunglasses gave Zoe the ability to look around and not be forced to talk to people after making eye contact. They also aided in covering the green and yellow bruise on her face that makeup didn’t hide.

  Jo and Mel flanked her and Luke as they left the cars.

  Wyatt took Miss Gina’s arm and followed close behind.

  Zoe saw the lone casket and tuned out those around her.

  She stopped at the edge of the dozen chairs set up for people to sit in. Only she didn’t want to stay that long.

  When she looked up, car upon car pulled along the cemetery drive.

  Mr. and Mrs. Miller, Principal Mason and his wife. Teachers, Deputy Emery, Sam, Brenda, Josie . . . the whole town poured in. One by one, they stood on the edges of the dug up earth in silence. A dark sedan opened, and out of it came Felix, September, and a few faces from her on-screen crew.

  Zoe reached for Luke’s hand, which was never far away, and squeezed.

  He kissed the side of her head.

  She kissed his hand and moved between her brother and sister. Together they linked arms but stayed standing.

  Zane nodded to Minister Imman.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming today to show your support to the children of Ziggy Brown. While every funeral has its own set of difficult circumstances, this one stands out. This man’s troubled life fell on his children in ways none of us could ever imagine. While the support of your community is welcome now, may it be a reminder to us all to find that support earlier.”

  Zoe finally looked at Minister Imman.

  “Many of you will say this man deserves to be in this grave. God forgive me, the thought has entered my own heart. But it could have just as easily been any one of the Brown family. While I have been called to help save the souls of River Bend, I found in this man’s passing I must first do my part in saving the lives of those souls as well. I know that lesson was not given to me alone.” Minister Imman scanned the crowd, and more than one head bowed.

  Zanya squeezed Zoe’s hand, tears in her eyes.

  Zane stood stoic, his eyes never leaving the casket.

  “Let us pray. Dear Father, please stand beside your children left in the wake of their father’s passing. May you enter their hearts and help them find forgiveness so that they might move from this difficult time with joy in their hearts. And Father, please reach out to Sheryl Brown so she can feel your mercy. Amen.”

  Zoe refused to cry as she opened her eyes.

  “Zane, Zoe . . . Zanya. I’m deeply sorry for your loss. Not of this man, may God forgive us all in that thought, but for the hopes and dreams of what will never be and what you now must put behind you. Peace be with you.”

  They stood there, silent. There would not be an outpouring of praise for Ziggy, or even one person wanting to say a single word.

  Except Zane.

  He broke away and approached the casket.

  With his arm in a sling and stitches still holding his eyebrows together, he glared. “All I ever wanted was a dad. And this is what I got!” He lifted his arm in the sling. “You tried to break all of us. We survived you! May God have mercy on your soul, because if it were up to me, you’d burn in hell.”

  Zane turned toward her and Zanya and accepted their hugs.

  “I love you, Zane.”

  “I’m sorry, Zoe. I should have listened to you.”

  “Don’t. It’s over.” She watched as he picked up Blaze and moved through the crowd.

  Zoe stood beside Zanya. “Do you want to say something?”

  Zanya stepped forward. “When I was expecting Blaze, I was scared for my future. How was I going to support a child? How would I live? Then you came back and I feared for my life. I’m not scared of my future any longer.”

  Zanya followed Zane’s path.

  Luke took their place beside her. “What about you?”

  She shook her head and let Luke lead her away.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “I’m scared, Jo.”

  It took a lot for a grown man to tell anyone he was scared.

  “Why?”

  “She hasn’t cried. Not once since she came back from the h
ospital the day he died.”

  Jo watched as Zoe thanked the residents of River Bend for coming to the funeral and the gathering at Miss Gina’s in show of their support.

  “Do you ever think she’s done crying? How many tears has she shed for that man?”

  Luke looked distressed. “I don’t want to lose her again. What if she can’t live here now?”

  Jo placed a hand on his arm and tried the warmest smile she could find. “Then you go with her wherever she needs to go.”

  “And if I remind her of all this?”

  “Luke, look at me.”

  He did.

  “That woman loves you. She isn’t going anywhere.”

  A breath rushed from his lips. He kissed Jo’s forehead and moved to Zoe’s side.

  “You’re something else.” Zane walked up, a soda in his hand.

  “How you holding up?” Jo asked.

  “I’m okay. Still hurt like hell, but I’m okay.”

  “Those were some powerful words you said today.”

  “Better than the ones I first thought of.”

  “Oh? And what were those?”

  “That the bastard burn in hell.”

  Jo smiled. “I can’t imagine he’s anywhere else.”

  “I heard Zanya talking to Miss Gina . . . something about a job here.”

  “You know Miss Gina, she takes in strays all the time.”

  “That’s good. I can leave without worrying.”

  Jo couldn’t say she was surprised. “Where are you going?”

  “I-I, ah, talked to a recruiter with the marines.”

  A strange wave of pride washed over her. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, they went over my records. Looks like my past isn’t going to keep me from enlisting. Just need to pass my GED, which I was already working on.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah, couldn’t have those snot nose teenagers beating me on the track and in the school department.”

  Jo sent a silent thanks to her father for her influence on Zane.

  She couldn’t stop smiling. “Marines?”

  “Yeah, badass, right?”

  “I think it’s a good thing.”

  He nodded, looked like he was holding back tears. “Feels right. Someone told me once that to change their life something bad had to happen or they needed to join the service. I figure I have two points in my favor going in. Well, three, if I’m as good a shot as my mom.”

  Jo couldn’t stop the curt laugh from exploding from her lips.

  Then she stepped into Zane’s one arm and hugged him.

  “You’re gonna be just fine.”

  “I expect you at my graduation . . . or whatever pomp and circumstance I have to go through.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Most of the guests had left the inn before Zoe slipped out the back door to watch the sunset.

  The door behind her opened, and she felt a throw drop onto her shoulders.

  She leaned back against Luke’s chest and enjoyed the warmth of his arms as they circled around her.

  “How are you?”

  “Hanging in there.”

  “Hard day,” Luke said.

  “I’ve had easier ones.”

  She felt Luke’s lips on the top of her head. “I want to make it easier on you.”

  Zoe reached around, held his arms that crossed over her stomach. “You have, Luke. You and everyone here. I can’t imagine going through any of this by myself.”

  Luke held her closer. “You’re not alone.”

  “I know. I realized earlier how lonely I was when I lived in Texas. I had friends, colleagues . . . they would have shown up for a funeral, maybe even helped me plan one. But they wouldn’t understand.”

  “Everyone here knows you, Zoe. There isn’t any need for explanations in River Bend.”

  “That used to frustrate me.”

  “And now?”

  She snuggled closer into his shoulder. “It’s comforting. Which is surprising.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure. When the doctors were dragging me through X-ray after X-ray last week, I waited for the desire to run to hit me hard. How was I going to face this town? What would people say? I thought my need to get out of River Bend would dump on me like it had in high school.”

  Luke shivered, and she looked up to see him holding his breath with his eyes closed.

  “It didn’t, Luke.”

  He slowly opened his eyes and looked down.

  She wanted to erase the fear in his gaze.

  “I didn’t feel the need to run away, I felt the need to hold you.”

  “Oh, Zoe.” He kissed her temple and let his lips linger there. “I’m right here.”

  Zoe turned her attention back to the setting sun that started to boil in a small ball of fire over the trees. She needed to remove Luke’s fears of her fleeing his side, regardless of what was to come, and she needed to start now.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said with a sigh.

  “Yeah?”

  “Maybe we can have Wyatt remodel our kitchen.”

  Luke took a second for her change of subject to click. “Our kitchen?”

  “Okay, my kitchen. You can call the garage yours. Maybe even get a beer tap for it.”

  His lips pressed close to her ear. She heard the smile in his voice. “Are you suggesting we merge our panty drawers into one place?”

  She lowered her eyes and took a chance. “Yeah. I mean, once we’re engaged, there’s no need to pretend we’re not living together.”

  Luke turned her around, his eyes bright and hopeful. “Engaged?”

  She lifted her left hand in the air. “I’m a five and a half, and unlike Mel, I’m not opposed to tattooing that on your body in your sleep.”

  “You’re serious.” He was smiling like a kid on Christmas.

  Zoe lifted her hands to his shoulders. “I left River Bend to find myself, to escape . . .” She didn’t need to finish that sentence. “But I had to come back to you to realize what I had lost. I tried to stop loving you, thought I was successful for a little while there . . . but I was wrong. I’ve never stopped loving you, Luke. I’m really praying our timing is finally right.”

  “I’d follow you anywhere.” His hands reached up and held her face. His eyes pierced hers with the sincerity of his words.

  “How about down the street?”

  “You mean it?”

  “I’m staying in River Bend.”

  “Staying for good?”

  “Yep, unless you and I wanna grow old in Fiji or something, I’m setting my roots down right here.”

  Luke bent his head and crushed his lips to hers.

  He came up for air. “I love you.”

  His kisses came quickly between words.

  “I’m never letting you go again.”

  Another kiss.

  She pulled away, her arms around his neck. “Good, cuz I was kidding about the beer tap.”

  He tilted his head, pretended annoyance. “We’ll negotiate.”

  It was her turn to kiss him. “What kind of negotiations?”

  His kiss turned soft before he whispered, “The naked kind.”

  “I think I’m gonna like this.” With swollen lips, she said it again. “Size five and a half.”

  “Marry me!”

  “Is that a question?”

  “I’ll ask the question when I have a ring . . . just promise me you’ll say yes.”

  The tiny, unshed moisture in the depths of his eyes mimicked the love in her heart.

  “I promise, Luke. I love everything about us and never want to let that go.”

  He rested his forehead to hers. “Oh, baby . . . I love you hard.”

  “Agent Burton?”

  “Jo, how are you?”

  “Good. I’m good.” She wasn’t anywhere near good.

  “Uh-huh . . . right. Why the out of character call?”

  “How do you know it’s out of character?”
r />   “Because I suggested you call a year ago, stop by when you’re in town, have a drink. Nothing. Now I hear from you. What’s up, Sheriff?”

  Jo peeked out the curtains of her front window. “Do you ever feel like you’re being watched?”

  Agent Burton laughed. “Depends on what I’m wearing and what bar I’m at . . . why?”

  “I can’t shake the feeling someone is watching me.” A car drove by and Jo ducked behind the wall to keep that someone from seeing her.

  “You sound scared, Sheriff.”

  She looked out the window again. “I am.”

  Acknowledgments

  To the champions who survived a less than nurturing childhood and still went on to do great things, this is for you. My personal journeys through many aspects of this story were sometimes cathartic, and other times just plain painful to write. Survivors walk among us every day playing hero to their own stories. You don’t always know it to look at them, but many fought through a childhood like Zoe with every possible hurdle placed in front of them to slow the pace on their road to great things. Like Zoe, some make risky and difficult decisions early on and persevere in the end. For those of you who didn’t let your childhood define you, but instead gave it the chapter it deserved, and then turned the page to write your own book . . . kudos to you!

  To Jane, my personal champion and cheerleader on every path I take. Thank you. To everyone at Dystel and Goderich Literary Management. Blessings!

  To Kelli and the entire Montlake team. I swear I did pass my English Lit class . . . I swear! For all you do . . . thank you.

  Back to Brandy:

  We may not be bonded by blood, but that doesn’t make you less of a sister. Our lives growing up were not ideal, and our friendship—yours, mine, and Kari’s—was often the only anchor I had keeping me from drifting off to sea. While Zoe’s story doesn’t scream yours, the fact that you never left the general area of our hometown is why this book is dedicated to you. You bring up names of hometown friends, people who you see all the time, and I have to search the yearbook to remember. You were definitely Most Likely to Never Leave town. Your mammoth success in your chosen career came as no surprise to me since you were always determined to do so much more with your life despite the pitfalls that were placed in your path. Your kindness and loving heart . . . your smile and constant support, has never been forgotten.

 

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