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Authors: Sarah Osborne

A Family Man (14 page)

BOOK: A Family Man
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TWENTY-TWO

 

Barney couldn't help wondering whether if this was a good idea. But as he threw his bag into the back of the van, he knew his wasn't in a position to refuse. He was Amy's father—biologically at least—and as such, had an obligation to accompany Joe across country to put an end to the asshole that had hurt his kid. However the thought of being trapped for at least the next five days with the man that had professed his desire to see him dead wasn't a prospect he relished. The only consolation was that Samson had agreed to travel with them. Hopefully the nomad president being there would stop the atmosphere from getting too uncomfortable.

The plan was to share the driving between them, and with a following wind, they should be in Miami in forty-eight hours. It wasn't going to be pleasant, in fact it was Barney's idea of hell, but despite no obvious link between him and his target, Joe was keen to fly under the radar. Barney couldn't argue with that. One of the reasons Joe was so good at what he did was that he never took unnecessary risks. He never wanted his actions to blow back on him or his loved ones.

 

 

Mac handed Tiny a printout of all the information he could find on the asshole. Joe still wasn't completely clear on how he was going to do this, but he figured that by the time he arrived in Miami he'd know what he was going to do. His first priority was to ensure that no matter what he did, it wouldn't blow back on Amy or Maria.

It had gone against his every instinct to leave that fucker alive when he'd first realized what he was doing. But it had been Beth who had persuaded him that it would be better for Amy and Jack if he was alive and paying child support. He felt his jaw clench. He should have known better than to let a chick sway him. Even one as smart as Beth.

He climbed into the driver's seat and waited for Barney and Samson to join him. "Okay brothers. Let's roll."

 

Beth glanced at her niece sitting in the passenger seat, chewing on her thumbnail. She knew Amy wasn't thrilled with the prospect of living with Joe in Seattle. She didn't want to be away from her friends, and she knew he wouldn't take any shit from her. "You do realize that Joe is insisting you move in with him because he thinks it's what best for you, right?"

"Joe don't know shit."

"He knows that if you carry on behaving the way you have been, you're going to end up getting arrested, or worse. I'm sure he'd rather not be saddled with a hormonal teenager with a bad attitude. But he loves you, Amy, and he will always do what he thinks is best for you."

"Sure, he does. That's why after less than a week he's disappearing and leaving me with you."

"He has shit that needs taking care of, and you need to get your stuff together and ready for your move. He'll be back in about a week and will pick you up from your mom's."

"I'm not going. He can't make me."

"You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart."

 

Joe tried as best he could to wash himself with the tepid water that dribbled from the faucet in the frankly disgusting restroom at the back of the run-down gas station. They were only ten miles outside of Miami and, like his brothers and the inside of the van, he smelled bad. They had made good progress, only making the occasional stop for gas, to piss or to grab a coffee and some food. The mattress in the back had proven useful, and all three of them had managed to grab a few hours' sleep. He had felt bad asking this of his brothers, particularly Samson, who absolutely hated not being on his bike. But he needed them, and it was certainly right that Barney was there. It wouldn't kill him to man up and take responsibility for once.

 

~ oOo ~

 

"You!" Rob spun round, as Joe stepped through the door.

"Yep. How you doing, asshole? Not so good, I'm guessing." Joe grinned as he visibly paled and pressed his Glock against the smaller man's temple. "Well, lucky for you I'm giving you a way out."

"I…Are you going to kill me?"

"No, I'm gonna take you out for dinner and then maybe a movie. Of course I'm gonna kill you, fuckwit. However, because I am a compassionate man, I'm gonna make it quick and clean, and not slow and painful like I really want to." He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a bottle of vodka. "Here, drink."

"And if I refuse?"

"It will be all the more painful for you, and I get a bottle of vodka." Joe shrugged. "It's all the same to me. Either way you're going to die."

"I could run."

"Go right ahead. I suggest you use the back door. The guy guarding the front is Amy's father. He ain't much of a dad, but I'm sure he'll get huge pleasure from seeing you suffer. Of course, the guy guarding the back is a real psycho, big fucker, too. Probably kill you with his bare hands. Nope, all in all, I think I'm your best option."

Rob took a deep breath and grabbed the bottle. "I never touched her."

"And for that reason alone, you have survived as long as you have. Now drink."

He drank, gagging at the bitter taste. "What?"

Joe smiled. "Barbiturates. Now let's take a walk to the bathroom."

Staggering slightly, Rob complied.

Once in the bathroom, Joe started to fill the bath. "Now strip."

For a moment it looked like he wasn't going to do it, but the feel of the gun at his temple was enough for him to do as he was told.

Once naked, Joe looked him up and down and smirked. "I can see why Maria still wanted to fuck me. Now get in the bath."

"I.."

"Do you enjoy pain, shithead? Cuz I sure as fuck enjoy inflicting it. Now get in the fucking bath."

Rob hardly struggled as, using a rolled up towel to minimize bruising, Joe pushed him under the water.

 

Joe put the bottle containing the remaining pills into the medicine cabinet and dropped the vodka bottle into the bath water. On his way out he threw the towel into the washing machine, then hopped over the back fence to where his brothers were waiting in the van. Samson started the engine as Joe climbed into the passenger seat. "Done?"

Joe grinned. "Looks like the pressure got to him. Vodka, Barbs and a hot bath is a lethal combination."

 

~ oOo ~

 

It was three days before Rob's body was found. As far as the police were concerned, there were no suspicious circumstances. He was under suspicion for child abuse and it looked he'd taken the easy way out. There was no sign of forced entry, and no one remembered the anonymous black van parked out the back. By the time Rob's corpse was being wheeled out of his house, Samson was back on his beloved bike, Barney was headed for Seattle and Joe was loading Amy's stuff onto the back of a van, telling himself that it wasn't cruel to the prospect to expect him to spend the day trapped with her and her attitude.

Beth couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face and Joe scowled. "You're loving this, ain't you?"

"It was your idea."

She laughed. "I just can't wait to see badass Tiny Taylor brought to his knees by a mere slip of a girl."

"I ain’t scared."

She kissed him on the cheek. "Course you're not."

He gently pushed her hair away from her face. "Maybe you should come up to Seattle and help me out."

"Maybe I will."

 

As he rode along the freeway, checking his mirrors for the van containing a very harassed-looking prospect and an incredibly moody Amy, Joe's mind drifted towards Beth and her soft lips against his cheek. He had known her since she was a baby and had never looked at her as anything other than his kid sister, but recently he had started to see her differently. He still believed she was too good for the likes of him, but he found himself wanting her. She was clever, compassionate and, he was starting to realize, hot. Shit. He was such an idiot. All those years he spent bewitched by Maria's charm, when the real beauty was right under his nose all along.

 

 

 

 

TWENTY-THREE

 

"Fuck my life." Amy collapsed on the bed with a sigh. She hated it here. Unlike Fillmore, Seattle was cold and boring, and the sprawling school they had visited was huge and intimidating. Then there was Joe's apartment. She doubted she'd ever seen anywhere less homey. The shelves were devoid of any ornaments and no pictures decorated his walls He had what he needed, nothing else.

Why the fuck couldn't he butt out of her life? All she wanted was to hang out with her friends and to be left alone, but, no, for the first time in her life he decided to take a proactive role in her upbringing.

She had been there for less than a month, and all they'd done was fight. No, fight was the wrong word. No matter how much she yelled, or slammed doors, or threw stuff, he remained implacable. She would go to school every day, would do her homework, she wasn't going out on a school night unless she was with him and she wasn't getting her cell phone back until he decided she'd been punished enough for stealing his cigarettes. He didn't nag like her mom. If she didn't pick up after herself, he would just gather the stuff off the floor and throw it in the trash. Shit, at this rate she'd soon be running around naked. She closed her eyes. If she was going to win this battle of wills, she was going to have to try a different approach. She had two days before she was due to start at her new school and she was determined that wasn't going to happen. Ha! By the time she'd finished with him he would be desperate to get her back to California.

 

Tiny Taylor was tough, everybody knew that. He was the guy you wanted to have your back when you went to war. Whether it was a fistfight or an out and out gun battle, he never shied away. He was forty-three years old and had been shot, stabbed and beaten. He wasn't afraid of pain, wasn't afraid to die. So why was he sitting on his bike outside his apartment block, freezing his balls off, too scared to go inside and face a skinny teenager who probably didn't have the strength to fight her way out of a paper bag.

It should be easy, she was just a kid, for fuck's sake. He told her what to do and she did it. He shook his head. He was developing a whole lot of respect for parents everywhere. How the fuck did they do it?

 

Amy was due to start her new school in two days' time and he knew that was going to be tricky, to say the least. He'd searched long and hard for the most suitable school and had a long chat with the principal, explaining how she'd had a tough time growing up and that he suspected that she was dyslexic, and as a result Amy was to be assessed and would be put in smaller classes where she could get the help she needed. Of course she didn't appreciate all the trouble he'd gone to. Oh no, she'd bitched, big time. There was no way she was going into a class full of retards. Shit, that girl could cuss. Even his brothers didn't use language like that. Her aim was pretty good too. He ran his hand over the bruise on his temple. He only hoped she never got her hands on one of his guns. He couldn't quite figure how he'd managed to go from hero to villain in such a short time, but when he tried to talk about it to his mom or to his brothers with teenage kids they'd just laughed and told him he'd figure it out. Well he'd better do it soon, before one of them wound up dead. Gritting his teeth, he dismounted, dreading what he was coming home to.

 

Barney leaned on the bar in the clubhouse and chewed on his thumbnail. It was Friday night, but as soon as church was over, Tiny had headed off home. It was clear that taking care of Amy wasn't exactly turning out to be a walk in the park, and Barney wondered if he should offer to help in some way. He knew Tiny had made it clear that he should take no part in her upbringing, but it was also blindingly obvious that his brother was floundering, and, well at the end of the day, she was his kid. Whether Joe liked it or not.

He looked up as Bugs joined him at the bar. "Tiny gone home?"

"Yeah." Barney grinned. "Kid duty."

"Poor fucker. Reckon he's bitten off more than he could chew."

Barney nodded. He knew how much his brother loved that kid and he only wanted what was best for her. But it was clear she was running rings round him and in less than a month, he swore he'd aged ten years.

 

"Amy, where you at?" Joe stalked through the apartment. "Amy?"

"In here." She sighed and dragged herself from the bedroom.

He frowned. "You been crying?"

"Maybe." She sniffed and looked at him through her lashes. Joe hated it when she cried.

"Why?"

"Cuz I hate it here. I miss my friends, I miss mom and Jack."

"Then I suggest you up your game, sugar, cuz unless I think you're prepared to turn your life around, you're staying right here."

"I fucking hate you!"

"No you don't, sugar. Oh, and tears ain't gonna wash with me. I spent years dealing with your mom, and trust me, you got a long way to go before get as good as her."

"I do. I really, really fucking hate you."

"If you say so, sugar." He grinned and ducked as her glass whizzed past his ear. "And if that had my bourbon in it, you're grounded for another week."

"It was soda, asshole."

"You need to watch your mouth, Amy. I'm getting sick of you disrespecting me."

"An' if I don't?"

"You're gonna see a side of me that I'd rather you didn't."

"You don't scare me."

"Well, I should."

"So that's it is it, Joe? You gonna intimidate me?"

"Depends on how much you wanna push me, sugar. Cuz, trust me, you're getting dangerously close to finding out just how intimidating I can be."

Amy swallowed and took a step back. She knew, deep down, that he would never hurt her. She also knew she was pushing him to his limit. He may have loved her, but as she looked into his eyes, right now, she couldn't see it. Suddenly, she was scared. Not of what she thought he could do. But of losing his love.

The tears that rolled down her cheek were no longer fake. "Don't hate me, Joe."

"Oh sweetheart, I could never hate you." He pulled her into his arms. "But you gotta stop fighting me on everything."

"I don't want to, but I'm scared. What if I don't fit in at this new school?"

"We'll find you a different one."

"I still miss my friends."

"You'll make new friends. Seattle's a friendly town."

"You're gonna have an answer for everything, ain't you?"

"Yup, you know it, girl."

Amy pressed her face into his chest and closed her eyes. "I hate you, Joe."

"You keep telling yourself that, sugar."

 

~ oOo ~

 

Beth shivered as the cold Seattle wind whipped around her. Shit, Joe. Why couldn't you live somewhere warm. As soon as she got into her rental car, she turned the heater up full and
drove off in the direction of his apartment. She had told herself that the reason she was going was because Amy was proving to be a handful and Joe needed a helping hand. The truth, though, was that she wanted to see him. She wanted to see Amy as well; she loved her niece. But it was Joe who was tugging at her heart.

Something had happened the last time they saw each other. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, just something about the way he looked at her. She was almost afraid to believe that he could feel the same way about her as she did him. She often berated herself for being so pathetic, but she had tried to stop loving him. Hell, she'd even gotten married. Of course the man she'd married turned out to be a complete asshole and used her as punching bag. Maybe it was because she'd had no father when she was growing up that, when it came to men, her compass her off. But nothing could persuade her that she was wrong about Joe.

 

Amy paced up and down Joe's living room. Beth was coming to stay for a few days and she couldn't wait to see her. She had been at her new school for two weeks and had managed, more or less, to stay out of trouble, and she and Joe had even managed to go a few days without fighting. Maybe things were starting to look up. Nah. Who was she kidding. Sooner or later, she'd fuck up and he'd start yelling again.

 

Joe really wasn't sure how he felt about Beth coming to stay. He did want to see her. So much so that it freaked him out. Despite this, he was worried. Given his history with her sister and his complete inability to commit, he couldn't see how they could get together without him hurting her. Somehow, though, he knew that wouldn't stop him. Not when she wanted it as much as him.

 

 

 

 

BOOK: A Family Man
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ads

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