Boyd_McCullough’s Jamboree_Erotic Jaguar Shapeshifter Romance Page 7

  “It wasn’t, but that too is being looked into by Lauren and a couple of other people. It won’t come down on her head at all, but she’ll have to testify against him.” He said she’d do that, he supposed. “Also, his father. Even if he has washed his hands of his son, Reilly filed a grievance against Ross several times and nothing was done about it. That will come back to bite Mr. Dander in the ass big time, I think. No one will be happy that he shoved this under the rug for so long.”

  They sat there for several more minutes, both of them, he thought, digesting what they knew. Boyd knew very little about his mate or her father, and less about what had happened that brought her to his life. He would have to have a long talk with her, but not right now. They were both enjoying that they’d done something together.

  “Boyd, when I do find my mate, I was wondering if you’d be my best man when I get married.” He was honored and touched by the question, and told him that. “Good. I thank you.”

  “Hawkins, knowing what I do about you, I’d like to ask you if you’re happy with your life? Do you get up in the morning now and think you’ve made the right decisions about getting out of the service?” He didn’t answer him right away, and Boyd didn’t know if he would. But when he sat up in his chair, never looking at him, he was positive that he wouldn’t. It wasn’t until he opened his mouth that Boyd started seeing a side of Hawkins he’d never seen before.

  ~~~

  Hawk had been having nightmares even before he’d left the service. Most of it was to do with what he’d done over there. The people that he’d killed or seen killed. The way he’d been used for things that were better left untold. He looked at his little brother, thinking that if he could just get a little bit of what he was feeling off his chest, he’d feel better. Hawk wasn’t sure how Boyd would feel, but he would understand.

  “When we were in country, we learned not to eat, drink, or touch things that we do here every day. The water, even in bottles, could be tainted with poison. The food rancid with worms and other things. And touching things would get you killed.” Boyd nodded, and Hawk went on. “Once, when we were taking a break—and by break I mean that we were looking for our target while sitting around restaurants nursing bottles of beer that none of us touched. Anyway, we were sitting around waiting. When we were ordered where to go next, we gathered ourselves and left the dive. Suddenly when this group of small kids, say about ten or so, came out of the building right in front of us, it took me several seconds to realize that they were each carrying a gun and they were aimed at us.”

  “Christ.” Hawk nodded, thinking of the looks on their faces; even for so young they looked older to him somehow. “What happened?”

  “Two of our men were killed right away. Lauren and I figured that they’d been as shocked as us and hadn’t moved quickly enough. The kids kept firing on us as we scrambled to get out of the way. When I drew my gun, I knew as well as the men around me that we were going to have to kill these kids, children that had been sent to murder us. And my first shot rang true.”

  He stopped there. There wasn’t any point in telling his brother that he’d killed two of them with one shot. That his bullet had ripped through the head of the first child and killed the one behind him. Hawk sat there, thinking of all the fucking shit that he’d been asked to do that no one, not even his mate, would ever know about. He looked at his brother when he said his name.

  “Is this one of the reasons that you don’t sleep well?” His question, put to him so quietly, tore at something deep inside of him that had him nodding, telling him that he rarely slept much more than an hour or two a night. “I can help you, if you’ll let me.”

  “How? I’ve seen shrinks about this. Of course, they think I’m making most of it up, and after that, I quit going. I can’t take sleeping pills, you know that. How is it you think you can keep me from taking a gun and blowing my brains out to get it all out of my mind?”

  “Write it down. Buy you a notebook—hell, buy them in bulk—but write down the things that you had to do. How you felt about it. When it happened.” Hawk said that would be a lot of shit. “Yes, it would be. Not shit though—it would be telling yourself the true meaning of you fighting a war that seems to never end. And even if its disjointed, who cares? It’s yours to write. That you can name names should you know them. The way their deaths might have felt to you. How you felt when you killed those children.”

  “And then what? Give them to someone to publish? You know as well as I that’s what nightmares are made of. Hell, I have them from the same shit. What good will it do anyone that I write this shit down?” He said he didn’t care. “So you want me to write this for no reason.”

  “The writing down isn’t for anyone but you, Hawkins. It’s your tales, your thoughts on what you felt and saw. If no one reads it, it’s fine. It’s, as you said, for the best. You know what it says, what it meant to you. They shouldn’t read it anyway unless you allow it. But you need to vent in a way that makes you feel better. Fuck anyone that doesn’t care or know what you did for their country and mine. This is for you.” He said that he didn’t know if he could do that. “Yes, you can, Hawk. It’ll not matter if you’re angry when you write it or if you misspell words when you do it. I don’t care if you write it all in crayon, just put it to paper, and I bet that you’ll feel better.”

  “Should I read it when I’m done?” He asked him if he’d want to. “Not particularly. It’s a lot of shit, like I said.”

  “Then don’t. I think just the process of writing it all down, just how you want to, should be plenty enough for you to sleep better.” He was warming to the idea. To blow up a notebook with all his dreams and thoughts sounded very good to him. “Then when you start to feel better, feel like you no longer have the need to write it down and you’re sleeping again, destroy them.”

  “Yeah, I could do that. Easy.” He already knew how he was going to do it too. How he’d destroy each and every thought and bad dream that entered his head. Standing up, he hugged his brother tightly. “I should go in, say hi to everyone.”

  “They’ll never know you were here if you don’t want them to.” He was tempted. Hawk didn’t want to stand around and talk about shit with his family when he had a new purpose to work on. But in the end, he knew that if his mom were to find out that he’d not seen her, then she’d be hurt and so would he. “I’m glad that you’re coming in. Reilly would like to see you too.”

  Hugging everyone, he looked around the house. Nothing had changed in all the years since he’d been here. The chess set, which he’d purchased for her a long time ago, cheap and made of plastic, sat on the little table that they’d used. He bet that if he opened up the little urn like jar that was near the set, he would find some chocolates that she’d give him when they played.

  When Reilly hugged him too, he felt a connection to her that he’d not felt with anyone but Lauren. They were kindred spirits, Lauren and he, and he was sure that he and Reilly would be as well. And when she took him aside and asked him for a favor, he knew that he’d do it for her even if he had to go to hell and back to do it.

  “I know that you get around and about more than anyone. Around town, I mean.” He said that he walked a great deal. “That’s what I was told by someone. Anyway, I’m looking for a really cheap car. Not anything fancy. Four wheels, a couple of doors, and an engine. I’m not picky.”

  “Boyd should talk to you about money.” She asked him why. “Well, when the two of you came together, even though you’re not married yet, nor have you bonded or mated, everything that he has, it’s now yours. All of them have done that with their mates.”

  “Why would he do that?” Hawk told her that was the way they did everything. They shared with each other. “I see. Well, I don’t, but that’s fine. I’ll ask him about it. But I still need a car, and even after we paid for this beautiful home, it’s going to need to have deposits made for the power and stuff. If you see anything, just let me know.”

  “All righ
t. I can do that.”

  He’d talk to Boyd again and see if he had any plans for his mate. He couldn’t think that Boyd wouldn’t want her to have the best there was in cars or anything else. As soon as he was able to escape, he reached out to his brother and told him what he and Reilly had talked about.

  Shit, I never thought of her not having a car. I’ll take care of it in the morning. Thanks, Hawk. Did she say what she wanted? I mean, big or little. With the blood of Jon, Hawk had gotten the ability to read minds, and told Boyd what he’d seen there in her mind. A bright blue SUV, huh? I can do that for her. You’ve saved me a lot of trouble. I owe you one. Thanks so much.

  If this writing things down helps me, I’ll owe you for the rest of my life. Thanks so much for helping me, Boyd. He said it had been his pleasure.

  As he made his way to his new home, he thought of his family. Hawk knew that he was luckier than most people when it came to family. Some never got along, and wouldn’t go see them even if they were on their deathbed. Others didn’t have any left, having either drifted apart over the years to the point where they had no idea where they were, or for that matter if they were still alive. Or they were simply alone. But he had a family that was there for him, even when he didn’t want them to be. And the best part was, no matter where he was, what he was doing, he knew that he only had to reach out to any one of them and they’d take the time to talk to him. On any subject.

  The house was lit up when he got home. He’d hired himself someone to cook and clean. And his cook knew never to make certain things. Hawk was never going to eat dried beef with gravy, never going to have instant anything on his plate, and ice was going to be in every glass that he drank from. He loved the taste of cold water.

  Chapter 6

  Joseph sat on the most comfortable chair that he’d ever sat in that wasn’t his. He even moved around a bit, looking for and not finding the little pinch that would make him not like the chair so much. It was perfect, and fit his bottom like it had been made for him. And it was sturdy enough that he didn’t feel as if he had to be careful of it so as not to break it. He thought it odd and sad that his only happiness for the last several days was a stupid chair. When the door behind him opened, he was almost sorry that he had to stand up.

  “Mr. Dander. They said that you were here to talk to me. I can’t imagine what we might have to say to each other, but I’m willing to listen. By the way, you fuck me over and they will never be able to find your body, understand?” He’d heard that Lauren McCullough was rough around the edges. Joseph had also heard that she wasn’t one to suffer fools and told it like it was. He liked her immediately. “Have a seat. We don’t stand on ceremony here.”

  “I’m here for two reasons. My wife, she wanted to be here too, but she’s not well with all this. But that I will explain too. The first is about my son.” She said that he might as well get his ass out of there if he wanted her to have Reilly not press charges. “No, no that’s not why I’ve come to talk to you. I’ve talked it over with my wife, and we’re not going to help him. Not get him an attorney nor pay any legal fees he incurs. He’s on his own. We should have done that long ago, but...well, I just should have done it.”

  Joseph knew that she was shocked, but it didn’t read on her face. Her foot tapped, just a little that he could hear, and she toyed with her fingers. It wasn’t much, he’d bet that few would see it, but he’d been watching people all his life.

  “He’s going down for the murder of twelve people.” He said he thought it was ten. “No. Two more have died from their injuries. A fifteen-year-old that was riding to his first ballgame with his dad. Also, an elderly man that had a broken leg and suffered a heart attack when he found out that his wife of fifty-two years didn’t make it. Your son has a lot to answer for, and I hope to be a part of him getting his ass fried.”

  “As much as it pains me to say that, I had hoped that you would. But for the others, I’m so sorry about all of this. You have no idea how much my wife and I are sorry for all of this. She’s ill now, my wife. The thought of something like him coming from her body has taken its toll on her. I came here to settle this, and perhaps ask that Reilly get help with all this.” She nodded but moved her hands off the desk, hiding her tells. “As I said, we’re not paying for his legal representation nor fees. But I wanted to give you something that Reilly’s attorney will need. Ross is going to try and drag her into his mess, and this will help her.”

  He handed her the small thumb drive and sat back when she stuck it into her computer. He heard the sounds of Ross’s voice and knew just what she was seeing—the day that young Reilly had been trying to leave work and what had happened to her that morning at her job when she had wanted to leave. He pulled out the second one and held it until he heard the last of Ross’s voice screaming at one of the security guards that worked there to kill her, shoot her in the head so that she couldn’t leave. His voice was manic, insane sounding, and Joseph cringed every time he heard it.

  “This is very damning, sir. And not showing your son in the best light.” He said that it didn’t, no. He handed her the second one. “You don’t have to do this. We have enough on him to put his ass away for a very long time.”

  “Yes, just for a time. But if I were his attorney, I’d say that he was temporarily insane, that the thought of not meeting a deadline for him had driven him to what he’d done. He’ll more than likely get about five years and then be out again. This will make him not eligible for parole, and perhaps send him to a federal prison that he’ll never leave other than in a body bag.” She stared at him once again; this time her hands and feet were quiet. He glanced around the expansive office and knew that this was a place that got things done. Joseph looked at the young woman again. “Look at the recording and then you and I will talk.”

  When she stuck this one in the drive, he couldn’t listen to it again. He’d heard it already, and it sickened him in ways that he couldn’t describe. His son was a monster, just as the newspaper and the news on television were portraying him. Instead of listening to the sounds again, he tuned them out. But he couldn’t completely—it had been a looping nightmare since Ross had been arrested. Joseph thought of some of the horrific things about his son that he’d found out recently.

  He’d killed a woman. Not just killed her, but had murdered her in a way that even the police had no idea who she was. Her body had been crushed to the point of not being recognizable as a body, much less as a person. And she had been one. A nice girl that he’d killed.

  When he’d found his son’s diaries of sorts, he’d spent three days reading them. There were days when he could only read a few pages of them. Others where he’d read a whole month of things that he’d done. But the details of the unknown woman’s death had sealed it for Ross. Joseph would never help him in any way ever again.

  The next morning, reading about Ross killing the young woman because she had refused to sleep with him had disgusted Joseph. Ross had taken her dead body and used the concrete roller that they used in the yard to run over her again and again, until she was nothing but a broken mess.

  Ross had broken her arms and legs with it. Crushed her ribs and her skull. Joseph cried when he looked at what he’d said about it, how he’d had a release all over her body several times when he’d seen what he’d done. Joseph had wept not for his son, but for what he’d become right under his watch.

  There were pictures too, of Ross and the bodies of his victims. His face smiling for the camera like they were on a trip together. All of them showed Ross covered in blood and seemingly happy with his handiwork. Joseph had thrown up several times when he’d seen that. And vowed to do all he could to get him on death row if possible.

  “Mr. Dander is this recording from his car?” He nodded and told her that the recordings were sent to his computer at midnight every night. “I’m assuming that there are more. That he’s done something like this before. I mean, having this recording of him.... He’s literally happy when he thinks t
hat Reilly is in the car that he pushed that day.”

  “Yes. I never bothered looking at them before this. I guess I didn’t want to know what he was up to in his car. But I can get you those as well. They’re not as bad, but you have only to ask. I wanted to tell you, too, that I spoke to Ross the day after he was arrested. There is a transcript of that as well that you can get. He told me that he was very disappointed that young Reilly had not been in the car. There were other things that he said too, but if you don’t mind, I’d not like to repeat them to you.” She nodded. “I called a good friend of mine. He’s been there for me when I needed it, and I for him when he called. He told me to call you, to have you go over this, and that you’d know what to do. I don’t want it out there that I helped with the destruction of my son, but I don’t want him around either. I called Jarvis Wingate, the president. He told me that if anyone could make this stick it would be his best man for the job.”

  “He didn’t tell me that you were coming.” Joseph said that he’d asked him not to. “You were afraid that I’d turn you down if you set up a time to come here.”

  “Yes. And he said that if you did that, someone would come and see me to warn me off. More than that, he told me. You were a woman that got results. I needed to see you and to give you this.” He leaned down to his briefcase and pulled out the first of many of the books that his son had had in his room. “Ross has been killing and maiming people for a long time. The first book there, Ross talks about how he had skinned a cat, keeping it alive until it finally succumbed to its torture. I have them all for you to take. I found them when.... My wife and I, we decided to rid our home of him, and we worked on the room that he’s been staying in since he was born. They were on the shelf, right next to a DVD collection.”