Long Way (Adventures INK Book 2)

by Mercy Celeste

  The wallet came out; Skip had left everything else in the borrowed Jeep. The lead cop took the wallet and perused it for a long time. “S. Wallace Simpson. What does the S stand for?”

  “Nothing now. I legally had it changed to just S. but it never stood for Skip. Chad’s father was my best friend; he called me Skipper. We were upstate with friends to scatter Colt’s ashes. We were caught in the blizzard. Chad’s car was totaled when a tree fell on it during the storm. He accompanied me to my cabin while he decided what to do next. We flew down this morning. We literally were just walking in the door. I don’t have any kids here. My son is an adult. My friend’s son is an adult. No, you can’t search my property without a warrant. If we go any further, I need to call my lawyer.”

  “Is there anyone else in the house?” Lead cop asked, looking past Brian who was still on his knees with his hands behind his head.

  “My husband is at work. There’s no one else inside. We don’t have any kids running around either. We were just married three weeks ago. Can I please stand up? There are only two occasions when I like to be on my knees, and this is definitely not one of them.”

  Lead cop holstered his weapon, and nodded to the uniform behind him. One of them started talking into the radio attached to his shoulder. The rest of the police holstered their weapons and Chad felt as if the world wasn’t about to spin out of control. “You can put your hands down. We’re going to talk now. And yes, I do have a warrant. I’m not going to enact it, at this moment. But I’m very much confused as to what’s going on here?”

  “You’re confused?” Brian stood with his hand grasping the ends of his towel that were beginning to slip. “You were in ‘shoot first, ask questions later,’ mode. And seriously, what if my dad hadn’t been here? He’s not supposed to be here. Were you just going to come in and shoot me for looking like a description? That’s ginger profiling. I should sue.”

  “Brian…” Skip rolled his eyes and sighed. “Shut up, son.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” Brian said, looking contrite for about a second. “Oh, hey, he doesn’t call you ‘daddy’ does he, when y’all… Oh my god. He’s younger than me, Skip. You dirty old man. Good for you. Wait. He’s going to be my stepfather and he’s younger than me… that is… messed up.”

  “Brian… shut the fuck up,” Skip whispered loudly.

  “Yes, Sir,” Brian grumbled, and Chad dropped his gaze to the Spanish-tiled floor to hide the flush he felt flaming his face.

  “Oh, god. He calls you, ‘Sir?’ I cannot unknow that now. I just… somethings should be… I’m shutting up. I’d seriously like to put some pants on without getting shot.”

  “Go ahead,” the lead cop said, nodding toward the door. “Let’s go inside.”

  “If we could stay out here for now, that would be helpful,” Chad requested before he realized what he was saying. “I’m not good in enclosed unfamiliar places when I’m… fighting off a flashback.”

  “Understood,” the officer said, moving up on the porch to stand in the shade with them. “We’ll talk here. Tell me about your mother?”

  Chad had no idea what to tell him that he hadn’t already said. “Where is she? Is she with the police? Or did she call in a tip about an abducted kid? How did this even happen? Don’t you people do due diligence on stuff like this?”

  The cop rubbed a hand over his face. “Usually, yes. Everything she said seemed so… real. The photos looked recent. She said she took you to the park and bumped into an old friend. She went to the restroom, and when she came back, the friend was gone, and so was her son. She freaked out screaming at the park, trying to find her son. No one saw anything. But they were all searching. She said Mister Simpson had been a family friend, but had made some comments that she considered inappropriate, and she’d asked her husband not to allow him to visit anymore.” He listened to the chatter in his own radio but didn’t respond. “She told us your address and that you were secluded up here. We are required to act when a kid is reported missing. Every second counts.”

  The chatter started again. This time there seemed to be some urgency to the chatter. The sounds of so many little radios chattering away wasn’t helping Chad shake the panic attack.

  “And how many times have you chased wild geese like this? What if some kid is really missing right now and half of your precinct is in my driveway?” Skip leaned against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed over his chest. “Jillian was batshit crazy when we were young. I hate to consider what she told you about me. I’m still wondering if I need a lawyer. And Chad, I know you’re a highly capable individual, but you should probably stay away from her until she gets back on the meds.”

  “I don’t need anyone telling me my mother is nuts, all right.” Chad hadn’t realized he shouted until the chirruping of all the radios went silent, and his voice echoed off the stucco back to him. “I love you, but… please… just don’t, okay. I’m sorry she did this. It’s not the first time. She did it when I was in high school. We had an overnight game, and I came home to find the cops in the house because she woke up and I was gone. She thought I was five. She thought my dad had come and taken me. I was sixteen. It’s… where is she? I need to make sure she… I don’t know. She needs help. I don’t know how to help her.”

  “She’s at the station. If it’s okay with you, we’re going to take her in for a seventy-two-hour psych evaluation. Get her some help.”

  A radio chirruped again, and the cop who’d done the pat-downs came up and whispered in lead cop’s ear. Chad knew from experience that wasn’t a good sign.

  “She isn’t at the station, is she?” He heard a whistling in his ears, like artillery fire in the distance.

  “No, she walked out. No one noticed.” Lead cop spoke softly now. Something in Chad’s voice must have alerted him to the sounds off in the distance. He could hear the rumble of thunder, the sound so much like heavy artillery fire. His vision blurred, the voices around him could have been a million miles away for all he knew.

  The wavering heat of the desert threatened to drag him back there… dissolving into cold… and rain… and….

  Waves crashed off in the distance as the storm approached. He was soaked to the skin, crying. “I won’t do it again, Mommy. I promise. I won’t touch it again.” Thunder rolled over the ocean; the night so dark he couldn’t see an inch in front of his face. He screamed over the storm. He screamed until his throat closed. He curled into a ball on the grass as rain pelted his naked body. The crashing of waves and thunder the only sounds he could hear as he tried to scream.

  “Chad?” His daddy came for him; his voice filled with fear. He shouldn’t be afraid. Daddies weren’t afraid of anything. He should be strong and… “Chad?”

  Wasn’t his father’s voice. It was too deep. He could hear waves, but not crashing waves, gently rolling waves. The sun was bright in the sky. It wasn’t cold. He was dry, and on his knees with big hands wrapped around his wrists. He held Chad’s wrists pressed tight against his own chest. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Blink if you hear me.” Chad blinked. Green eyes came into focus.

  “Your eyelashes are dark red, and really long.” Chad had no idea why he said that. “I love your eyes. Have I told you that?”

  “No. You haven’t. I love your eyes too. Yeah, there you are. You okay in there?” He could see Skip’s face now, and the fear in his eyes. He could hear the cops moving around. There was too much chatter and tension in the air for this to be just another panic attack. “Don’t look away. Not yet.”

  “What did I do?” He couldn’t remember. He remembered talking about his mother; there were cops. “I did something, didn’t I?”

  “Besides freaking a few cops out, you mean?”

  “I don’t carry anymore,” he said, peripherally aware of the drawn guns pointing his way. “I’m not armed.”

  “I know. They know. They’re going to put their weapons away now. Please, he’s not a threat. We have to get you into the VA and get you something to
help with the flashbacks.”

  “My mother is here,” he said, wondering if he was still in the past. “She’s come to get me again. Like she did when Dad took me away. She locked me out in the storm because… my mother is here.”

  “She’s not here. I promise.” Skip’s lips were moving. Chad could see the younger version of Skip coming out of the house, pulling a t-shirt over his head; he shouted something that Chad couldn’t hear.

  There was no sound anymore.

  His mother was screaming his name and crying; she had a gun. The police weren’t even looking at her. Her mouth moved so slowly, opening and closing as she screamed his name. Her hand came up even more slowly. He saw the orange flash from the muzzle. Skip slammed hard into him, toppling him over as his body became heavy. Something hot and wet seeped through Chad’s blouse. Skip’s eyes were open. He smiled. It was a beautiful smile. The green in his eyes went dark as his smile faded and shock set in. Chad wrapped his arms around Skip, and rolled him over to cover him.

  Time went wonky. Sound and vision sped up like he’d hit fast-forward too many times. People were screaming. He heard more gunfire. Skip stared up at him. He blinked. “What happened?” he whispered, his voice cracking. He swallowed hard and tried again. “What…”

  “I think she shot you.” Chad felt his pain, like hot fire just above his hip. “I think she shot us both.”

  Skip swallowed hard, and reached trembling fingers up to stroke Chad’s face. “I love you. Okay. I love you. Tell Brian… I’m sorry I wasn’t there for him when he was a kid. I… Fuck, it hurts.”

  “Yeah. I got a scar just like it. Hurts like a bitch.”

  “Dad. Skip. Dad, can you hear me?” Chad felt Brian’s cold fingers on his arm, clawing at him, trying to pull him off the man he loved. “Is he okay? Tell me she missed him? Come on, stepdude. Get off him. You can do that later.”

  More hands were on him, pulling him up. “He’s shot. It went through.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because it went through me too.” He tried to stand up, but his knees didn’t want to hold him. He grabbed Brian’s arm and went back down. Blood soaked his shirt. Too much blood. He didn’t know how much was his and how much was Skip’s.

  There were sirens piercing the chaos that surrounded him. He looked for his mother. He could have sworn he saw her. The cops had an old woman on her knees with her arms behind her back. Her pale hair a ratted mess. She was too thin, her flesh nearly sallow. She looked familiar. His mother. But not his mother. She wasn’t screaming his name anymore; she was cussing him out, calling him by his father’s name. She cried, pleading with him to tell her what he’d done with her baby.

  Chad stumbled to his feet and staggered off the porch to drop to his knees in front of his mother. “Mom? It’s me. It’s Chad. Don’t you recognize me?”

  She swung her long hair over her shoulder, and glared at him, her face a mask of rage. “You took my baby away from me. You perverted him. Give me back my baby. Give me back my baby. I never loved you. Never. Where’s my boy, Colten? Where is he? You can’t keep him from me.”

  His mother didn’t recognize him. Hell, Chad hardly recognized her. “It’s only been four years,” he said, knowing no one would understand. “What’s going to happen to her?” He glanced to the cop standing not far away, a statue amidst chaos.

  “She’ll get help,” the cop answered as his mother was lifted off the ground, and carried to one of the ambulances that pulled into the clogged driveway. “Let’s get you looked at.”

  Chad took his hand and climbed to his feet in time to see Skip being lifted onto a stretcher. He wasn’t conscious anymore. A paramedic rushed Chad into the ambulance with his lover. The last thing he saw was Brian sitting on the porch beside a pool of blood, looking like a little boy who’d lost his father.

  Because Chad had brought crazy into his house.

  “Lift your shirt. You’re bleeding…” he tuned the medic out, as the sight of the frightened little boy receded into the distance, only to be lost entirely as the ambulance rounded a curve.

  Chapter Twenty

  A gorgeous blond leaned over him. A blurry gorgeous blond. The wrong blurry gorgeous blond. “You look familiar,” Skip managed to say. His tongue felt swollen and his throat hurt.

  “We met briefly a couple of weeks ago.” The blond doctor looked exhausted. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing back an errant lock that wanted to flop in his face. “You were leaving as I was arriving.”

  “Oh… yeah, I never forget a pretty face.” Skip smiled, remembering the beautiful man who’d turned up at his front door and looked right past him. “Hey, Doc.”

  “Stop flirting with me,” Doc said, smiling at him almost shyly.

  “It’s his default mode. He can’t help it.” The familiar voice came from somewhere in the darkened room. “He flirts with everyone, especially the mail woman. He times his runs so he can meet her on the street just to flirt. It’s embarrassing to go running with him.”

  “You were the one winking at the Marine on our porch this afternoon.” Skip remembered that moment with perfect clarity. The hot flash of jealousy that seemed so foreign to him… turned instantly into… “Where’s Chad? Jilli… she shot him.”

  “That woman shot you, Skip.” Brian sat beside him now. His hand felt warm engulfing Skip’s hand. “Probably because you’re tupping her kid, you dirty old perv.”

  “Tupping? What kind of word is tupping?” Skip’s mind was hazy and slow. “Where’s Chad?” He sat up and flipped the covers back. Or he tried to sit up and flip the covers back. He didn’t make it to the grabbing part of flipping the covers… maybe he lifted his head a little.

  “You’re the writer. You’d think you’d know all the fun words.” Brian, the little shit, laughed while Chad was missing, and probably with that woman who’d tried to kill them.

  “Bri, he’s still zonked on morphine,” Doc said. There was a touch of censure in his voice and Brian simmered down quickly.

  “Sorry… but only because it’s like shooting fish in a barrel.” Brian squeezed his hand. “Hey, Dad, your Marine is in the next bed. They gave him a sedative not long ago. He’s doing better than you are. They did have to go in and take the bullet that went through you out of him, or he’d be completely fine. Missed anything vital on both of you. He’s fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine.”

  Skip listened to the blip of a monitor. He could feel something clipped to his fingertip. The room became blurrier as he stared at the ceiling. Brian was fine. Chad was fine. Everything was fine. His chest ached. The blips got louder and faster. “Skip?” This time it wasn’t Brian, but the Doc who loomed over him. He pressed a couple of buttons. “You doing okay?” There was too much concern in his voice.

  Skip tried to wave away his hands; he was fine. “He called me Dad.” The blurriness in his vision cleared briefly as hot tears rolled unchecked from the corners of his eyes.

  “Hey… hey.” Brian was back by his side. He wiped at the tears with a sheet corner. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  “I think he’s happy about it, Bri,” Doc said. He seemed like a perfectly reasonable guy. Nothing like Brian. At. All.

  “Well, shit, Old Man, if you wanted me to call you ‘Dad,’ why didn’t you say so?” He could hear a tremor in Brian’s voice that wasn’t there a moment ago.

  “He’s not old; he’s perfect.” A new voice interjected from somewhere in the dark. Chad’s rich, tenor voice made his vision blur even more, and the blips on the machine went wild. He sounded groggy and maybe not at all awake. Skip looked toward the darkened corner, but couldn’t see him.

  “Chad?” He needed to see him. He needed to know he was okay.

  “Yessir?” His words were slurred and drowsy. He laughed softly, and grumbled to himself about the bed being lumpy. “Mmm, sorry. Not in…” yawning sound… “Public.”

  “He’s okay,” Doc told him. There was a hint of a smile playing at his lips.
Probably because Brian was sputtering out unintelligible words and making gagging sounds. “I promise. I think he went back to sleep. He needed it. Poor kid. The cops were relentless with their questioning. He handled it though, after they took the bullet out of him, and stitched him up. They’re keeping him for observation overnight. I made sure he was put in with you. Seemed the best thing to do.”

  “You’re a good man, Doc. Too good for my son.” Skip tried to smile, but his face hurt. The sputtering on the other side of the bed continued.

  “I know it. I’ll have to whip him into shape.” The Doc was going to be a pistol.

  “I keep the floggers in the old pottery shop.” Skip tried to wink, but his face wasn’t cooperating.

  “He’s kidding.” Brian finally gasped out something coherent. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Skip chuckled. God, he loved this kid. “It’s a big compound. Have you found the pottery shop yet? Let me know when you find it. Don’t use the red one. That’s my favorite.”

  “He’s not kidding,” Brian grumbled.

  “You’re okay, Skip.” The Doc shot a grin toward the dark where Brian had retreated. He stood up again, and checked the machines, and lifted Skip’s wrist; his eyes going vacant as he counted pulse beats. “Are you hurting? Do you want me to have a nurse come give you something?”

  “Nah, Doc,” Skip said, the urge to kid around gone now. “I’m tired. Don’t feel much. Kinda floaty still. I’m good for a while.”

  “It’s Zack. My name. I get the impression you’d forgotten.”

  “Zack.” Skip reached for his hand, and held it with the one with the finger clips attached. “I’m happy to call you son-in-law. My boy looks happy. I want him to be happy.”

  “Are you referring to your boy toy or to me?” Brian still had a grumpy voice. “Because, eww.”

  “You, mongrel. I don’t refer to my lovers as boys… or girls.” Skip looked for patience He couldn’t find any. “Because… eww.”