Ranger dropped his head to hers and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, honey." Shane is dead. He still couldn't say the words out loud, but now there was no need.
Her body jerked against him as she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed. Ranger cried right along with her. There was no shame. There was only pain.
Amy shook against him, her sobs hurting him as much as his own grief.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It should have been me."
She squeezed him tight and cried harder, the only sound in the night.
"No, Ranger. No." Her words came out broken and gasping between sobs. Her arms went heavy around his neck and he scooped her up.
"It's going to be okay, honey. It's going to be okay," Ranger whispered as he carried her into the house. But he didn't know if he was telling her or himself.
Chapter 10
Maxine Videl flipped off the bedroom light, leaving only the low glow of the lamps on the bedside tables to illuminate the man propped against the headboard. She crawled up the rustic wood bed and laid her head on Hank James chest. Her fingers wove through the smattering of blond and grey chest hair, enjoying the feel of its coarse yet soft texture. "Why didn't you tell me he was back."
Hank sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "They broke up almost five years ago. I think it's time that everyone just moved on, don't you?"
Maxine frowned, but bit back the sharp retort racing out of her mouth. Yes, it had been five years since Hank’s adopted son, Hunter, had joined the military and left Evie, her daughter, in the dust. Five years Maxine had to watch Evie cringe and withdraw even more every time the man came home on leave. "I know. But you don't have to watch how much it hurts my daughter every time he shows up at our bar. And the damn fool always brings some girl with him too. Even though he watches Evie the whole time."
"You know how men are. Hardheaded. Hunter isn't any different." Hank said.
"Stupid. You left that part out. It might've been five years, but those two still can’t keep their eyes off one another. Problem is, your boy seems intent on hurting my girl any way he can. And I still don't know why."
Maxine secretly hoped Hank would just ask him, find out the truth of why Hunter and Evie had broken up all those years ago. And why he kept looking at Evie like she was his worst nightmare wrapped in a daydream. Something bad had happened, but everyone involved in the situation was being tightlipped as a damn mute.
"Now Maxi, he's a grown man. I'm not going to butt into his business." Hank squeezed her shoulders, his silent command for her to drop the subject. But Maxine had never been that good at holding her tongue. Or her temper.
She sat up, pulled out of his grasp and faced the man that held her own heart. After her husband's death a few years ago, Hank James was the only reason she hadn’t turned into a hardened spinster. Her husband, Tom Videl, and Hank had been best friends for a long time, with Maxine completing the trio, but her relationship with the men had turned tumultuous. The inseparable days of their youth was destroyed by jealousy, and Maxine had been forced to choose between the two men of her dreams. She chose Tom, all the while knowing she crushed Hank’s spirit, and a small part of her own right along with him.
Hank had retreated to try to revive Broken River Ranch, and become somewhat of a recluse. Tom and Maxine had had Evie and started a new life together. But deep in her heart Maxine always held a candle for Hank James, all the while loving her husband with her whole being. "Maybe it's time for you to say something. Those two belong together. You know it. I know it. And I'm sick and tired of watching them suffer."
Hank shifted, the light making his blond hair glow. Then his bright blue eyes met hers and stole her breath. But no matter if he released butterflies and bubbles in her belly, she was tired of sitting by as the helpless bystander.
“Don't look at me like that. I know that look. It's none of our business. Do you really think they would appreciate us sticking our nose where it doesn't belong?" Hank brushed a stray lock of her long brown hair behind her ear.
"They might not appreciate it at first, but dammit, you might get them to stop and think. And maybe even realize what they're missing before it's too late." Maxine, took his hand and threaded her fingers with his. Intertwining them.
"Did you ever think there might be a reason they're not together anymore? I know Hunter, and he's levelheaded. Almost cold in his calculations. He wouldn't be so angry with Evie without a reason." Maxine held in a snort. Hunter might act like a cool level headed commander, but she saw the fires banked in him. The pent up tension.
The only calm and collected James was the one sitting next to her right now.
Which did nothing to explain the huge gap between their children. Evie had never been flighty or cruel. She’d loved Hunter completely. And up until he hightailed it out of town, Maxie had thought Hunter felt the same way.
So what was so terrible that her daughter had ran into the arms of Marcus Carvant?
Maxine's anger wilted and she lay back against Hank, marveling at how hard his muscles were. Even in his fifties there wasn't a spare ounce of fat on the man. Mother Nature sure as hell hadn’t been as kind to her, but she didn't hear Hank complaining. "I'm so tired of seeing her hurting. After Hunter, she’d been sad and depressed and lonely, but she still smiled some. After Marcus... I'm scared she's broken. And I'm scared Hunter is the only one that can fix it."
Marcus Carver, Mercy’s slime bag mayor and all around asshole had taken advantage of Evie, but Maxine had been so excited her daughter was dating again she had ignored her instincts. Right up until the bastard nearly killed her daughter.
"I can't promise anything, but if the opportunity presents itself-" Hanks words were cut off by a loud crash in the house. "What the hell?"
Hank jumped from the bed, yanked open the nightstand drawer and pulled out his pistol. Maxine followed him, grabbing her robe and pulling it on in one swift movement. Hank stopped, turned and held up his hand. “Stay here.”
"Like hell I will." Maxine grabbed her purse and pulled the small .38 revolver out, checked the safety, and cocked it.
"Dammit Maxi, this is no time to be hard headed." Hank stood tall, blocking her forward momentum.
She propped a hand on her all too generous hip and cocked her right eyebrow. "You really want to sit here and argue?"
"Fine. But if shit goes down you get out and call the sheriff." The square set to Hank’s jaw spoke of his annoyance and made her smile. The man sure was sexy when he got riled. "Hard headed woman."
They eased from the bedroom and crept down the long hall, their bare feet silent as they crept down the polished hardwood floor of Hank’s long ranch-style house. His rambler stretched out in almost two completely separate wings, with a few guest bedrooms and Hank’s master bedroom on one end, the great room and kitchen in the middle and a couple more spare bedrooms on the other. Another crash echoed down the hall, followed by a peal of feminine laughter.
Maxine lowered her pistol, Hank glanced over his shoulder and then did the same. The muscles rippled across his taught back when he turned. Muscles honed by hard work. They rounded the corner into the kitchen. Hayden James, the only girl Hank adopted, lie sprawled on the kitchen floor behind an overturned chair. And a man, or boy depending how you looked at it, lying right beside her. That explained the two crashes.
Hank flipped on the lights. Maxine stepped around him and when she got a glimpse of his expression, she almost felt sorry for the girl. Hank was all cool and calm until you pushed him too far. Hayden had been pushing and pushing for the past year and Maxine had a feeling the girl just pushed her father over the edge of his own personal cliff.
"What the hell is going on? And who the hell is that?" Hank’s voice snapped through the kitchen, the two kids, obviously drunk turned to stare in shock. The boy focused on the gun and the blood leeched from his face.
"Dad, let me explain." Hayden flopped over onto an elbow, her words sluggish.
The boy paled even further, "Dad? How
old are you?"
Hank answered, "Not old enough."
"Dad, stop. You're embarrassing me." Hayden attempted to get to her feet, somehow caught the edge of the kitchen table and righted herself.
"I'm fixing to embarrass you, right over my knee. You know the rules. No drinking. No boys in the house after midnight." His harsh tone would have sent grown men scudding, but not Hayden. Maxi had to give it to her, she didn’t back down an inch.
"I'm twenty-one years old. I can drink and do whatever the hell I want!"
“Not while you live under my roof you can't. Now get your ass in bed before I do something I regret."
Hayden's long blonde hair hung wild and curly down to her waist. Her normally clear blue eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks flushed red from the effects of too much to drink. And the platforms on her feet didn't help her steadiness one bit. “You're not my father. You can't tell me what to do."
Maxi gasped and covered her mouth. Hank had taken Hayden in at a young age, saving her from an awful life. Hank’s already tight jaw started to tick, but under that gruff exterior, she could see the hurt Hayden's words had caused. "I'm the only father you have. You better fucking count your blessings you're not with your real father. Because I'm the only one that gives a damn. Get your ass to bed. Now!"
Everyone in the room jumped at Hank’s sharp tone, and Hayden, bless her heart, slammed her lips together and stumbled from the room. Probably the smartest thing the girl had done in a long while.
Hank turned on the boy before Maxine could intervene. He’d at least managed to get to his feet during the father daughter fight, and backed up to the front door, fumbling for the handle and an escape. When he saw Hank advance, he threw up his hands in surrender. “Hey man, I thought she was older. I’m sorry.”
Maxi watched Hank lift his pistol and take aim at the boy’s chin. Shit. A night she’d intended to use coaxing him over to her point of view was screwed by a couple of drunk kids. Not that she was worried he’d actually hurt the kid. Scare him – yes.
"Hey boy, because that's what you are." Hank stalked closer, shoving his pistol in the back of his jeans and grabbed the young man around the neck. "You're not a man. A man wouldn't get a girl drunk and bring her home hoping to get lucky. Which one of you drove? How much have you been drinking? Did you drive my daughter home drunk?"
"Please, sir. We were just goofing around, having some fun. I swear I didn't mean any harm by it." His words cut off when Hank squeezed, shutting off his oxygen supply for a second. Maxine would have been worried if it were anyone else, but not Hank James. The man made his life rescuing orphaned and abused kids. She seriously doubted he would suddenly start hurting them.
Plus, the less drunk drivers the better. Sometimes all these kids needed was to get the ever loving crap scared out of them to keep them from doing something so stupid again. She pulled out a stool and sat, carefully placing her pistol on the counter. Her movement caught the boy’s attention. "Ma'am, please. Can't you talk to him?"
"Sorry, but you stepped in it. You're on your own."
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing fast like a jig in the water with a catfish on the line.
"I have half a mind to shoot you and throw you out back in my pond. Let the gators eat you." Hank pressed forward.
“No. I swear, if you let me leave, you’ll never see me again."
"Now you want to drive drunk again?" Hank ground out.
"I can call a friend. He can be here in five minutes to pick me up."
Maxine had a feeling that whatever alcohol the kid ingested earlier that night had evaporated, but no need to tell Hank. He was on a roll. "How about I call the sheriff, let him get you for a DWI.”
The boy broke, blubbering and sobbing, "No, please. I'm trying to get into law school. If I get something on my record I'm screwed."
"What do you think Maxi? Should we use him as gator bait or call the sheriff?" Hank didn't look at her when he spoke, he pressed his entire body against the boy’s, squishing him against the door.
"Dad. Get off him." Hayden flew back into the kitchen, still dressed in the same clothes. Hank spun around and the boy seized on his opportunity for an escape, fumbled with the doorknob and ran out of the house.
"You let a drunk drive you home?" If Hank was mad before, he was furious now.
"He only had one beer. Jeremy was the DD tonight, he drove us all home."
"And what, you were going to invite him to your bed to thank him?"
Hayden took a step back, staring at her father with eyes wide. "How could you say that to me?"
Hank gestured to her wildly, "Look at yourself. How you dress. Showing off your body, drinking with strange men, inviting them into my home. What do you think it looks like when you act like that? Do you really think a man will ever respect a girl like that?"
"Maybe it's just the real me. In my blood." Hayden screamed back. Tears ran down her face.
Hank grabbed her by the arms and Maxine stepped from the stool, ready to intervene if things got too heated. Hank would never physically harm his daughter, but he may say something he would regret.
"You listen to me, your mother might have been a slut. And you're worthless father a drunk piece of shit. But that's not you. You're smart. Your kind. You're better than this. And I love you too much to watch you throw your life away."
"No, I'm not. I'm not worth anything. You don't know anything. You don't know what I did."
Hank shook her, "I don't care what you did, or what you think you did. This is not the answer."
Hank’s hands were shaking and Hayden was sobbing. Maxi couldn't hold off anymore. She stepped up and put her arm gently around the young girl. “I think everyone should just go to bed. Everything always looks better in the morning after a good nights sleep. Don't you agree Hank?"
Hank looked at her like she'd gone crazy, but Maxi didn't give in. She steered the girl down the hall to her bedroom, ignoring Hank following right behind. He waited in the hall while Maxine helped get Hayden into a nightdress and in bed. She passed out not one minute after her head hit the pillow. Maxine crept back into the hall, easing the door shut behind her and held a finger to her lips for Hank to stay quiet.
He closed his mouth. Maxi went to his bedroom and climbed back into bed, knowing this was the best place for the coming storm. Hank’s expression was a mixture of anger and hurt and confusion. He slunk onto the edge of the bed and Maxi immediately hugged him from behind.
He grabbed her and held on tight, his body tense beneath hers. "I don't know what she's talking about, and honestly I'm scared to ask. Over this past year she's just gotten worse and worse. I thought maybe it was some delayed teenage rebellion thing, but I was wrong. She's hurting and I don't know why and I don't know what to do to fix it."
Maxine pulled him backwards and he let her until he was lying back on the bed and she was leaning over him, stroking his face with your fingers. "Whatever it is it can be solved. I'll be here to help. You know your boys will. But tonight is not the time."
She pressed her lips to his with a soft kiss and Hank groaned wrapping his arms around her and turning them until he was on top of her. "I need you."
Maxine smiled, "I'm right here. What are you waiting for?"
Chapter 11
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Evie braced her hands on the pedestal porcelain sink, cursing the too-bright lights in her bathroom for highlighting the dark circles under her eyes. The hollowed out cheekbones. She was underweight. Overstressed. She could definitely pass for a Hollywood actress in drug rehab.
“Ugh.” Even her groan came out weak. Sick of looking at herself, she flipped the light off and went into her bedroom. The window-unit air conditioner, circa 1980, sputtered and spit and shrieked, but at least it got her bedroom down below the hundred-degree heat.
Evie flopped onto the bed, her body as lifeless as a fish on a dock. The drone of the AC unit combined with the steady staccato of her warped ceiling fan would norm
ally have been enough white noise to soothe her to sleep. But not tonight. She could've taken a horse tranquilizer without stirring.
She rolled over and grabbed her phone. Two o'clock. Crap. There was no way she was going to enjoy a visit to the sandman in this state of mind. For the last couple of years, her life had been on par with a Lifetime drama, but in these past two days it had shifted into Bruce Willis action. No point in lying here. Alone. In bed. She headed downstairs to the kitchen.
She snatched a beer and rubbed the cold bottle against her face before taking a drink. The chill eased some of her tension. Perhaps a good girl would have grabbed a glass of milk. Maybe opted for some comfort food. But that was all behind her, and the loss of her good-girl status could be dated back to the end of her second relationship.
And now here she stood, alone, twenty-seven years old, with a sum total of two exes under her belt. Two exes who had failed to leave her with a warm and fuzzy tonight.
She slammed the bottle down, cracking it loudly against her speckled countertop. The cheap Formica didn't even give up a scratch.
Her mind spun round and round, like a tetherball in the hand of an overzealous third-grader. Attempting to wrap her thoughts around tonight's events made her brain bounce out of control.
Being on Marcus Carvant’s right side was downright dangerous, so she didn’t even want to think about being on his wrong side. But Evie being on any side of Marcus was better than her mother being dead.
And she had no doubt Maxine would take it first.
She had to figure out a way to appease Marcus. Make the deal and push it through. Forget the fact she would be running marijuana. Jail time wouldn’t even begin to cover her sentence if they were caught.
Better her than her family.
Evie took another swig of the cold brew, hoping to wash down some of her revulsion.
How could she work with that…monster? Help him, knowing he’d screw her in the end?
Evie picked her cell phone up from the counter. The empty screen glowed bright, glaring at her. Daring her to use it.
Men of Mercy: The Complete Story Page 9