The Long Road Home [The Final McCassey Brothers Book]

by Lauren N. Sharman

  "Six months. But that's been six tries in six months, which means I've been holding plant funerals about once every four weeks."

  She laughed, deciding that she liked his sense of humor very much. “So I'll see you later?"

  He nodded. “Sure, unless you decide to stay here."

  Stay here? Why would she—

  "I'm not dropping out of your life, Georgia,” Wade told her as he gently caressed her left cheek in a calming, reassuring gesture that, surprisingly, made her feel better.

  "And,” he said, this time with a grin, “you and I are nowhere near finished. We still have a lot to talk about. Starting with who you were before this whole mess began four years ago, and why you refuse to talk about your mother."

  Georgia rolled her eyes. She'd just had to ask.

  Wade moved away and took a step back just as Gypsy reached out and took Georgia's hand in hers. “Are you ready to go in?"

  No, but she was ready to turn around and run in the opposite direction. She couldn't do this. She couldn't walk into the house and face these women she didn't know; women whose husband's time she'd been consuming the past three and a half weeks. She just couldn't.

  "I know you're nervous, Georgia, but you know as well as I do that you can only put off meeting the other girls for so long. There's nothing to be afraid of. All three of us have really been looking forward to meeting you."

  Great, now I have expectations to live up to. What if I disappoint them?

  "Plus, in a family so full of men, we women could really use another ally. What do you say?"

  What could she say? Gypsy had been so nice to her that Georgia felt like she couldn't say no. Feeling as though one more little bit of assurance from Wade would give her the courage she needed, she looked up and focused on where he'd been standing.

  Only he was no longer standing there. He was gone.

  Sometime during the short conversation she'd had with Gypsy, Wade had slipped away and was now leaning—with both his arms and legs crossed—against the side of his truck. When her eyes found his, he nodded, then turned, opened the door and slid onto the driver's seat. Georgia received his message loud and clear when he started the truck and drove away without looking back.

  Knowing she had no other choice, Georgia turned to Gypsy and unceremoniously shrugged. “Let's go."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 16

  Greeted by beautiful holiday decorations, a warm fire, and the aroma of fresh baked sugar cookies, Georgia felt at home the instant she stepped inside Rebel and Gypsy's house.

  "Make yourself comfortable,” Gypsy instructed as Georgia took a seat on one of the two sofas in the room. “This is the first time in weeks that the kids have all been out of the house at the same time, so the girls and I were finally able to start taking down the holiday decorations. We started in the basement first; I'll be back as soon as I yell down and let them know you're here."

  After Gypsy disappeared around the corner, Georgia removed her flannel coat and draped it over the arm of the sofa. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes briefly to revel in the scents wafting out of the kitchen.

  This was more than just a house; it was a home, the kind of place Georgia had always dreamed of living. She could almost picture her brothers and sisters-in-law sitting in this room; perfectly furnished with nothing more than two sofas, a couple of end tables, and a television, watching their children play.

  In any other warm, friendly home, the gun cabinet in the corner of the room would've been sorely out of place. But knowing her brothers as well as she did; who they were, what they were about, and what it meant to be a McCassey in Hagerstown, Georgia felt that anything less than a cabinet stocked with several firearms and dozens of boxes of ammunition simply wouldn't have fit in.

  Georgia walked across the room and stared at the numerous framed pictures hanging on the wall, feeling perfectly at home. The photo that caught her eye first was a black and white one of Blackie, Judd, and Rebel. They were leaning against a tree, wearing camouflage jackets, and holding rifles. Judd and Rebel looked like they were in their mid-teens. It was hard to believe they were ever that young.

  The other photos were all of her brothers, their wives, and children. The one she began studying next had been taken at Judd and Dusty's wedding; just a week before Georgia had come to Hagerstown. All her brothers were in tuxedos. Dusty had on a beautiful white dress, and all the kids, including Blackie and Angel's six month old twins, were dressed to the nines.

  A flicker of recognition when she spotted the young boy standing to Judd's left had Georgia squinting to get a closer look at him. He looked vaguely familiar, but she didn't understand why. She didn't think she'd ever seen him before, but figured she felt as though she recognized him because he looked so much like Judd.

  Everyone in the pictures seemed so happy. After examining each and every one of them, Georgia found herself curious about the stories that went along with them. Maybe, if she found the courage, she would ask Gypsy to tell her a few.

  When she finished looking at everything, Georgia smiled, retreated back to the sofa, and thought about how lucky she would've been to have grown up in a home like this one.

  Rebel and Gypsy's kids would never have to worry about any of the things Georgia had to while growing up. Neither, it appeared, would her other niece and nephews. They were lucky; they had it all.

  The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew Georgia's attention away from her own thoughts.

  Anxious to greet the women, Georgia stood up. Suddenly wishing she'd chosen to wear something a little more presentable, she used both hands to smooth her bulky sweatshirt.

  When Gypsy entered the room, she was wearing the same warm, friendly smile she had been when she'd greeted Georgia and Wade at the door. Following closely behind her were two of the most beautiful women Georgia had ever seen.

  The first one wasn't nearly as thin as Gypsy, but she was by no means fat. She had on just enough makeup to enhance her beautiful face, and was dressed in a simple pair of blue jeans and tennis shoes. The black shirt she was wearing was a sharp contrast to her platinum blonde hair. That was Angel. She'd heard Blackie describe his wife several times and he'd been dead on.

  Hoping to impress the girls, Georgia put on her best smile when Gypsy and Angel had come fully into the room and she'd noticed them looking at her.

  When she turned her attention to Judd's wife, Dusty, something about the way the woman's long, shiny, blue-black hair fell across her shoulders caused that sense of recognition to hit her again. This time, it was accompanied by a sharp pain in her temple, followed by bright flashes of light in front of her eyes.

  Georgia's smile faded, and she felt every ounce of blood drain from her face when her gaze shifted and she found herself staring at a massive burn scar on Dusty's right arm.

  Suddenly, she felt lightheaded.

  Colorful spots then began dancing before her eyes as bits and pieces of a long-suppressed memory began flashing into her mind. She saw the man shoving a flaming bottle into her hand; saw Dusty running with something. There were screams, loud yelling, and—were those gunshots?

  Startled and lost in a fog of confusion, Georgia jumped when someone grabbed her arm. Who was that? Was someone there? She was so disoriented that she couldn't tell if the contact had actually happened, or she'd just imagined it.

  The spots cleared, and in her mind, she saw a little boy huddled in the dark by a tree, the same boy she'd seen standing next to Judd in the wedding picture. Georgia remembered running toward him—toward the fire—but a sudden, excruciating pain exploded in her temple. She could feel the warm blood oozing down the side of her face.

  Run. Georgia wanted to run, but her legs wouldn't move. She tried to speak, but couldn't catch her breath enough to form a single word.

  As she swayed on her feet, Georgia heard several voices, almost as if they were far off in the distance.

  "She's going to faint!” she thought she he
ard someone say.

  No, she was not going to faint. That was ridiculous. Georgia didn't do things like that. Did she?

  What was happening to her?

  As the flashing spots returned and became more intense, Georgia's head began to pound.

  Just when she thought her head was going to explode, the entire episode ended just as quickly as it began.

  And now she remembered everything.

  Almost.

  The room was deathly silent; Georgia's vision was completely blocked by what seemed like a giant black cloud.

  The next thing she knew, she was sitting on the sofa with her head bent and resting in the palms of her hands. She didn't know how she'd gotten there, but was grateful she no longer had to fight to stay on her feet.

  As the remnants of the memory filled in the gaps of what was missing, Georgia began to shake then finally—and unexpectedly—found her voice. “No!"

  How could she have forgotten the horror she'd witnessed that night? Forgotten what she'd done?

  "Georgia?” she heard her name in an unsteady, strained voice that sounded like Gypsy's.

  But she couldn't answer.

  Instead, she jumped off the sofa as quickly as if it had burned her.

  Through still-clouded vision, she turned to who she thought was Dusty and stared at her, wishing she could see more clearly. “It was you,” she managed to calm herself down enough to say. “You and the boy were there."

  Georgia assumed that the slight, tentative step Dusty took toward her was a threat and tried to back up, but bumped into Gypsy, who scrambled to get out of the way.

  "They're on their way,” she heard someone—most likely Angel—say quietly.

  They? Were, ‘they’ her brothers?

  Georgia began to panic. No, she couldn't see the guys now! How could she face any of them, especially Judd, after what she'd done? It wouldn't matter to him that she'd been forced to do it; he'd hate her anyway.

  Get out.

  She had to get out of the house. And she had to do it before her brothers got there. Once they showed up, they'd never let her leave.

  "I have to go,” Georgia announced. Forgetting that it was less than twenty degrees outside, Georgia left her coat lying on the arm of the sofa and pushed past Dusty. She had almost made it out of the living room when Angel grabbed her by the arm, her grip as ironclad as the one Blackie had used on her. “Georgia, please wait."

  Yanking her arm from Angel's grasp, she shook her head and walked a few steps toward the hallway she knew would lead her to the front door. “No!"

  "We can work out whatever's wrong,” Gypsy called.

  Desperate to get out of the house, Georgia left the room and walked down the hall. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come,” Georgia yelled, “I don't belong here!"

  "Georgia!"

  Gypsy's plea tore at Georgia's heart, making her wish she could've stayed. But that was impossible. Everyone might want her to stay now, but once Judd, Dusty, and the rest of the family found out what Georgia had done, they were going to want her to leave. They might even be so angry that they'd call the police.

  She didn't want to go to jail, and it would be over her dead body that she'd allow herself to be sent there.

  So engrossed in her need to escape, Georgia almost missed Gypsy's announcement that Blackie, Judd, and Rebel had arrived. Oh no! How am I going to get out of here, now? She hadn't had a tour of the house, so she had no idea whether or not there was a back door. Her best bet—if she could get there before her brothers got out of their trucks—was to leave the way she'd come in, which was through the front door. From there, she could run and hide in the woods until they gave up looking for her.

  All she had to do was get outside.

  Georgia ran the rest of the way down the hall and flung the front door open just as Judd and Rebel were coming up the sidewalk. She didn't take the time to wonder where Blackie was before breaking into a run and trying to dodge past them. But Rebel was quick, and he caught her around the waist as she slammed into his chest. “Hold on, Georgia!” he hollered as she struggled to free herself. “Calm down!"

  But she couldn't calm down. She had to get away.

  Fueled by adrenaline, she used all the strength she could muster—which wasn't much—but managed to get in a lucky strike, elbowing Rebel in the gut hard enough that he grunted and momentarily loosened his hold, allowing her to squirm out of his embrace.

  Now headed toward the woods, she ran right past Judd, who was standing still, staring at her in disbelief.

  Once she made it to the woods, she'd be home free.

  Salvation in sight, Georgia picked up her pace and—surprised to find that she hadn't lost all of her athletic ability—vaulted the white picket fence as she headed for the trees.

  She was almost there when Blackie stepped out from behind the house.

  Not expecting the roadblock, Georgia didn't have time to stop herself before she ran head-on into his brick wall of a body.

  In a one-handed grip, he grabbed onto her arm so hard that the pain stopped her cold. Teeth clenched, he yanked her upward, actually lifting her off the ground, and leaned down into her face. “Where the hell do you think you're goin'?"

  Georgia struggled to break free much the same way she had the night the guys had caught her at the garage, but Blackie refused to let go.

  Frustrated at not being able to go anywhere, she went crazy. Thrashing and flinging her arms and legs, she did everything she could to loosen his hold. But Blackie was too strong. It appeared that it was taking him little or no effort to keep her restrained, whereas all she was succeeding in doing was wearing herself out.

  When she stopped momentarily to catch her breath, Blackie was obviously fooled into believing she'd given up the fight, and finally loosened his hold. The instant he let his guard down, she came up swinging as she struggled to break free again, catching him in the jaw with a hard right hook. “Son of a bitch!” he roared, releasing her as he was momentarily distracted.

  Knowing that would probably be her only opportunity to flee, Georgia turned to run, but made it no further than a single step before Blackie reached out with his long arm and grabbed the front of her shirt, raising her entire body into the air again as he pulled her to him. When she looked up at him, she noticed that his right arm was pulled back, and she was face to face with his enormous fist.

  Anger and violence burned in his eyes, making her wonder if he would really take a swing and unleash his fury on her.

  If he did, it was because she deserved it.

  "Do it!” she screamed. “Do it!” But he didn't move. Instead, with his fist still clenched just inches from her face, he stood perfectly still, breathing heavily and staring at her.

  "Blackie!” Angel yelled from somewhere behind them.

  Frozen in place, Blackie ignored his wife and continued staring at Georgia.

  "Hit me!” she dared him, knowing full well that with the raw power and strength behind his punches, just one would be enough to kill her.

  "Blackie, stop!” Angel called again as she ran up beside them. Neither Georgia nor Blackie, whose eyes were deadlocked on one another, acknowledged her.

  Unnerved by his terrifying silence, tears of frustration formed in Georgia's eyes.

  Another second or two passed before he seemed to calm down enough to talk. Unfortunately for her, he was still seething. “I ought to kick your ass, little girl,” he threatened.

  Allowing the tears to flow and making no move to wipe them away, Georgia leaned an inch closer to his fist. “Then do it already!” she yelled, honestly wishing he would put her out of her misery. “I deserve it, so just do it, you coward!"

  Moving for the first time, Blackie brought his fist back as if he really was going to hit her. Refusing to cower, Georgia held his gaze and stood her ground. She was going to watch that fist come in and make contact with her face if it was the last thing she ever did ... which it probably would be.

  The next f
ew seconds seemed to pass in slow motion.

  Since Georgia's attention was focused on Blackie, she didn't see Judd and Rebel coming at them until they opened their arms, lowered their heads, and used the full force of their strength to tackle Blackie.

  Although he hadn't been expecting their assault, it was obvious that Blackie had plenty of combat experience—for even as he was going down, he never loosened his hold on Georgia. Falling along with them, the force of their momentum rendered her powerless. With Blackie still grasping her shirt, the four of them became one, and Georgia fully expected to be crushed under her brother's combined total weight of close to eight hundred pounds. But at the last second—almost as if he knew exactly where she was and what was happening—Judd removed one of his arms from around Blackie's waist and used it to shove Georgia to the side.

  All four of them landed with a loud thud, Georgia just inches away from the boys. Every bone in her still practically emaciated body screamed in pain as it came into contact with the hard, frozen ground.

  Trying to get her bearings, she lay perfectly still for what seemed like an eternity. Once the initial pain caused by her landing began to fade, Georgia opened her eyes and glanced a few feet away to where her brothers were lying in heap, Judd and Rebel still firmly pinning Blackie to the ground.

  "If you two assholes don't get the fuck off me in the next two seconds,” he warned, “I'm gonna kill you both."

  Although the statement sent chills down Georgia's spine and would've had her scrambling to get up if it'd been her lying on top of Blackie, neither Judd nor Rebel seemed affected by the threat.

  Sure she was safe from Blackie for the moment, Georgia lay back down and rolled onto her left side, doing her best to hide her face. The tears that had begun falling while she and Blackie were yelling at each other came more easily now. They rolled over her nose and down the left side of her face, and she did nothing to stop them.

  Why should she? After all, she was sad.

  "I'm warnin’ you boys,” she heard Blackie's threatening voice again, and also heard movement. Even though she didn't look to see what was happening, she knew Judd and Rebel had decided to let him up.