The Long Road Home [The Final McCassey Brothers Book]

by Lauren N. Sharman

  Knowing he was teasing her—for the most part—Judd didn't think twice about Blackie's half-hearted threat.

  Georgia, on the other hand, seemed to take it to heart. Suddenly, the happiness that had been visible on her face was now gone; replaced by a look too serious for a nineteen-year-old to even know how to make. “No, you won't, Blackie” she softly, “you'd never hurt anyone that loves you."

  Wow. Judd hadn't seen that coming.

  And by the surprised, yet soft expression on Blackie's face, he hadn't either.

  Judd and his brothers did, without a doubt, love each other. And even though those words were something they said to their wives all the time, they'd never said them out loud to one another; they had other ways of expressing their affection.

  But girls were different.

  And now that they had a sister—one who obviously loved all three of her big brothers—Judd had a feeling they'd all be saying, ‘I love you’ a lot more. Not to each other, of course, they were much too masculine for that. But to their sister ... who so obviously needed to hear it.

  Still down on Georgia's level, Blackie removed his arm from around her shoulders and turned to face her. He cupped her face in his enormous hands leaned in until his forehead was touching hers. “You're right, Georgia, I ain't never gonna hurt you. Nobody else will, either, ‘cause I'll kill the first person who lays a hand on you."

  She nodded slightly as Blackie backed away and leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Then, in one swift motion, he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Now it's time to get your scrawny, shiverin’ ass in the house. You're so cold your goddamn lips are blue."

  One by one, they all made their way into the house. But Judd lagged behind. He was concerned about the way Blackie was carrying Georgia, and the possessively tight grip he had on her.

  She might have attached herself to Judd, but Blackie, as the oldest, had obviously appointed himself in charge of her welfare. There were a lot of things they had yet to learn about their sister, which had Judd more than a little worried. If there was anyone or anything in her past that could possibly show up and threaten her, Judd had no doubt that Blackie would fulfill his promise to kill.

  And that would be disastrous for all of them.

  * * * *

  None of them knew he was there.

  Wade had the perfect view of Georgia and her siblings from across the yard.

  But it was pure luck that he'd gotten the opportunity to witness the scene before him.

  Wade had decided to go ahead and stop at the counseling center to catch up on some paperwork before swinging by his apartment to water the plants, then heading back to the garage. But just as he was passing McCassey's Garage on his way through town, he spotted Georgia's brothers tearing out of the parking lot in Blackie's large diesel pickup truck.

  The thick, black smoke pouring from the smokestacks as Blackie apparently pushed the accelerator to the floor, had Wade worried. He did a quick u-turn and followed the boys, and was relieved when he realized they were headed to Rebel's house. He slowed down then, staying a safe enough distance back so he wouldn't be seen.

  Wade drove his truck only halfway down the long, dirt driveway when he arrived, in order to make sure there was no danger of it being seen. He ran the rest of the way, skidding to a halt and ducking behind a tree when he spotted the entire family outside.

  It had taken him a minute to figure out what was going on, that Georgia was trying to get away. Even from twenty yards away, he could tell she was upset.

  Wade was puzzled. What catastrophic event could possibly have happened in the short time that had passed since he'd dropped her off?

  He'd gotten to know Georgia pretty well, and not surprisingly, she'd proven time and again that not only was she true to her word, but honest, as well. She told him she'd stay with her sisters-in-law and get to know them, and he'd had no reason to doubt her. If she was trying to escape, there had to be a damn good reason.

  The melee in the front yard—with Georgia running around and her brother's trying to catch her—came to a sudden, complete, deathly silent stop when she punched Blackie in the face. His reaction was instant. Grabbing her, he made a fist and acted like he was going to do the same thing to her.

  Wade didn't think for a moment that Blackie would hit his sister. Obviously, Georgia wasn't so sure. She'd looked scared to death.

  Trying to keep his curiosity from getting the best of him, Wade used the trunk of the old tree to conceal himself and hung back. He'd find out what happened eventually. If one of the boys didn't tell him, he would convince Georgia to.

  The next few minutes passed quickly, and in no time, Georgia was talking with her brothers. She even had a short conversation with Dusty. There'd been some joking, too; Wade had heard their laughter. After Georgia and Blackie shared a tender moment, something Wade would never have believed Blackie was capable of if he hadn't been there to see it for himself; he picked her up, slung her over his shoulder, and, followed by the rest of the family, retreated inside the house.

  Whatever it was that had happened no longer seemed to be an issue. They had apparently worked through the problem enough that everyone was happy ... at least for the time being.

  Wade had seen enough. He turned away and began walking back to where he'd parked his truck. Along the way, he decided that he was happy Georgia had made enough progress to be able to talk to her family and work things out on her own.

  Georgia's heroin addiction and the problems it had caused her would be a thing of the past in no time. Then she'd be the strong, independent, no nonsense nineteen-year-old woman she was destined to be.

  And she wouldn't need him anymore.

  Three weeks ago, Wade would never have believed that he'd miss Georgia and her company. The last thing he'd been prepared to do the day he'd gotten the call from Rebel, was spend time with a young girl that was a full-blown heroin addict. Wade had enough to deal with without tossing a female into the mix of shit that made up his life.

  Only Georgia hadn't been anything like he'd expected.

  In the beginning, she'd just been another junkie. As she started to come around, he decided he liked his cousin's sister because she honestly seemed grateful for his help.

  Now, as their time together was winding down, Wade realized that there was a small part of him that was going to miss being around her every day.

  Okay, he admitted to himself, maybe the part of him that was going to miss Georgia was more along the lines of medium-sized instead of small.

  Maybe even somewhere between medium and large; like medium and a half.

  In any case, his everyday life was definitely going to be more mundane without her in it. Once Georgia had warmed up and they'd gotten past the hard stuff, she'd begun laughing and joking with him. During that time, he'd discovered that she had an incredibly fun and energetic personality. He never realized how much he would miss it when it was gone.

  Of course, there were still a few issues they had to iron out, including the big one she'd been avoiding discussing: her mother. But all the talking they had to do on that subject could be done anywhere; he didn't need to be staying at the garage with her for that.

  In fact, now that she seemed comfortable with her family, that was a subject they could, and probably should, help her deal with. The breakthrough he'd witnessed her have with her brothers today had proven that she was not only ready to leave the comfortable confines of the garage apartment, but that she was apparently ready, even if she was a little less than willing, to get the help she needed from someone else besides him.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 18

  "Why can't I just go back to the garage?"

  Georgia took a sip from her glass of ice water then carefully set it back on the table. She and her brothers had had a long talk over dinner, which was when they informed her that she would no longer be living in the apartment.

  Georgia was confused. She di
dn't understand why she had to move in with Blackie and Angel when there was a perfectly good room, a quiet, peaceful room where she'd been perfectly happy living, waiting for her at the garage.

  "Because that wasn't nothin’ but a temporary fix, Georgia,” Blackie answered when Gypsy, Angel, and Dusty rose from the table to clear the dinner dishes. “The garage apartment was a place for you to stay until you could get yourself together and were ready to meet the rest of the family. It ain't no place for a girl to be livin'."

  "But I like the apartment,” she argued. “You guys all lived there for years. Why can't I stay?"

  Blackie pulled the tab on another can of Budweiser and cracked it open. “I told you, little girl, it ain't no place for you."

  "No, you didn't! You said it was no place for a girl. I'm not girly, and I want to stay there."

  "No,” he said sternly. Then he took a long drink from his beer can, looked her up and down, and added. “Not girly, my ass."

  She sighed and sat back in her chair.

  All right, maybe she was a little girly, but only sometimes. How in the world had Blackie known that? All he'd seen her do since she'd been in town was cry, lie around, get sick, and occasionally watch TV.

  And stubborn. Why the hell did Blackie have to be so stubborn? Didn't he understand that the garage was the one place she felt happy and safe? That she didn't feel like such a burden?

  No, he probably didn't know that.

  Because she hadn't told him.

  But Georgia did love it there. The apartment was small and confined; her brothers were all always downstairs, and Wade—

  Wade.

  That, Georgia suddenly realized, was part of what was bothering her. If she moved out of the garage, so would Wade. She'd become so accustomed to seeing him twenty-four hours a day, relying on him to have answers and help her figure things out, that she wasn't sure she'd be able to do it on her own.

  Wade understood her. He understood what she'd been through in the past, and what she was going through now.

  Would she be able to keep herself together without him?

  "But what about Wade?” she asked. “I thought you wanted him to help me."

  He nodded slightly. “That's right."

  "Then is he moving in with you and Angel, too?” her question laced with heavy sarcasm.

  Blackie flashed an evil grin at Georgia from across the table that sent chills down her spine. He obviously knew that her question was a civilized way of trying to piss him off. But she didn't care. She was angry that he was trying to control her. “No, smartass, he ain't."

  "Then how is he supposed to help me?"

  "You can see him anytime you want, Georgia; he don't live far."

  "But—"

  "But nothin', little girl!” Blackie barked, obviously beginning to lose control of his temper. “You can't hide in the garage forever. It's time for you to rejoin the human race and start livin’ again."

  Georgia crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned back. She was about to lose her temper, too. “Fine. But all through dinner you kept talking about wanting me to become independent. How am I supposed to do that living with you and Angel?” Her eyes quickly moving to focus on Angel, Georgia offered her sister-in-law an apologetic glance. “No offense,” she said.

  Angel, who had finished helping clear the table and was once again sitting in the chair next to Blackie, smiled. She gave Georgia a knowing wink, then reached out and caressed Blackie's enormous bicep. “None taken."

  Blackie was noticeably irritated and shrugged away from Angel. “Well, you ain't gonna become independent livin’ at the garage with eight of us guys standin’ guard from downstairs, and Wade stayin’ in the damn room with you. How the hell does that give you independence?"

  "It doesn't!” Georgia yelled before she could stop herself.

  Blackie crushed his empty beer can with his right hand before setting it down. He backed his chair away from the table and stood, then threw his hands in the air and turned away. “I give up!” he yelled at Judd and Rebel, who, up until that point, had been quietly observing the interaction between their brother and sister. “You two deal with her."

  Georgia wasn't ashamed to admit that Blackie terrified her when he was angry. She hated feeling that way because that wasn't who Georgia Virginia McCassey was; she was made of tougher stuff than that. There was a time when she'd been confident enough not to back down from someone like him, to speak her mind no matter who or what she was up against.

  And when she was angry, people knew it.

  The fact that Blackie had given up and walked away in the middle of their conversation had made her angry.

  And dammit, he ought to know that.

  If there was ever a good time for Georgia to take another step toward getting back to normal, this was it. She was going to tell Blackie exactly what was on her mind.

  Taking her sudden burst of confidence with her, Georgia ignored the ball of fear that had formed in her stomach and pushed away from the table. Right behind him, she followed Blackie into the living room.

  Georgia looked at her oldest brother like he was one of her teammates who'd made a mistake and blown the lead in a playoff game. Not caring that her brother's back was to her, she put her hands on her hips and let her temper fly. “Why do you think you can tell me what to do, Blackie?"

  He looked hard-as-nails with that unlit cigarette dangling between his lips. And even harder when he turned around and put a hand up, signaling her to stop. “Not now, Georgia."

  She didn't need to hear Judd's quiet warning from behind to know that pushing Blackie's buttons wasn't a good idea. He was obviously angry, frustrated, and in a very dangerous mood.

  But she wasn't about to let him intimidate her.

  In the end, she'd probably wind up doing what he wanted her to, but she refused to allow him to bully her into it. It was going to be her decision.

  "Yes, now,” she spat, “right now."

  When her voice rose, Blackie raised a brow and stared down at her. She recognized the movement of his hands, which were repeatedly curling into fists and relaxing, as a warning to watch her mouth. But she ignored it.

  "There's no way you can get out of listening to what I have to say, Blackie! I'm not Judd or Rebel; you and I can't roll around on the ground throwing punches at each other until everything's okay. You're going to have to talk to me!"

  Confronting her brother was scary. But Georgia stood her ground. She held his gaze without wavering; finally remembering to breathe when his shoulders relaxed, a faint look of respect crossed his face, and he sat down on the sofa.

  Georgia hadn't moved because she wasn't sure her wobbly legs would support her, and was grateful when Judd wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulders. She looked behind her then, surprised to see them all there—Judd, Rebel, Gypsy, Dusty, and Angel—standing behind her.

  She didn't care that they'd probably come in to run interference in case Blackie went after her the way he had out in the yard. What mattered was that they were there. All of them. Standing behind her. Because they cared.

  That realization boosted Georgia's confidence to the point where her fear of Blackie disappeared.

  Slowly, she moved away from Judd and inched toward the sofa, taking a seat on the edge. Blackie's body was turned the other way and he was staring at the wall, but she ignored the fact that he was being rude and said, “No matter how hard anyone tries, Blackie, including you, I won't be forced into doing something I don't want to do."

  Wearing the most sincere, serious expression she could come up with, Georgia reached out and laid her hand on his thigh. She kept her voice as steady and strong as possible. “Those days are over."

  Now it was Blackie's turn to be serious.

  He whirled around to face her. The look on his face was almost apologetic, as if he'd just realized that he'd been trying to do the same thing to her as their father had done.

  He nodded in understanding. “It ain't just me,
” he told her in a much calmer voice, “none of us want you livin’ at the garage. You're better than that, Georgia. You deserve better."

  Georgia honestly didn't know how to respond. Here she'd been thinking that she wasn't good enough to be around her brothers and their families because of everything she'd done, while they'd been thinking the exact opposite.

  They weren't really trying to control her, just give her a better life. The boys were trying to help, even if they had gone about it the wrong way.

  "But I'm really happy there,” she explained.

  "I know you are. And you've been perfectly safe stayin’ there because either Wade or one of us has always been in the apartment with you. But it ain't safe for you to be there alone. It's common knowledge that the middle bay door is always left unlocked. No one's ever taken advantage of that and come into the garage durin’ the night, but that don't mean someone won't try once they find out there's a nineteen-year-old girl livin’ there. Rebel does leave Outlaw at the garage most of the time, but the dog can only protect you if someone don't drug or kill him in order to get him out of the way."

  At first, Georgia thought Blackie was being overdramatic. Really, who would kill Rebel's German Shepherd just to get to her?

  Then she thought about everything Wade had told her about her brothers and cousins and the things they'd all done. Any of them—especially Blackie—could have enemies out there just waiting for an opportunity to strike. And Gypsy had been kidnapped from the very same apartment right behind Frank and Rose's backs.

  Maybe Blackie was right.

  Actually, on second thought, he was definitely right.

  When Georgia was in better shape, she could've held her own against an attacker until help showed up.

  But the condition she was in now was a different story.

  Until she was healthier, there was no way she'd be able to take care of herself in that kind of situation.

  As much as she hated to admit it, Blackie was right. “Before I agree to stay with you,” she told him, “will you promise me something."