Charged (31 page)

“You love him though. I can see it. That’s why you took off all the time. You went to see to him?” 

He nods. “Yeah I did. And look at the mess I caused. Every time I placed you, I thought my niece was safe. Every time I thought you was out of harm’s way, I’d left you with
garbage
. I’m sorry. I am truly sorry. I never meant for you to be the in this.” 

I think about it for a second. CJ had always been around when I was a kid and I just never thought a thing about it. Once I’d found out he was FBI, and the person tasked with moving me around, I just thought he’d been undercover all along. It never made sense that he was there because he was
meant
to be. 

“So, family. That’s why I always saw you when I was little. I thought you and my mom were hooking up.” 

“No. I loved your mother, but she was my sister-in-law. She knew what it was to marry into the mob, and she was loyal to GF. She also understood his craze and how to handle him. She had been around us, grown up with us, but when she’d finally had her fill, I was the escape route. 

“Gianni and I had always been close as kids. We were closer in age than he and Mario, and to be honest we were the troublemakers. I knew his mind worked on different waves. He was more prone to violence, mayhem and deviance. He worsened as they heaped the pressure of taking over on to him solely. With me in rehab, they didn’t dare give me anything important to do anymore, and I think a bit of that Giani resented. I had a way out of the pressure. Anyway, I thought I could get your mother and you out, so I arranged a pick-up. Other agents were in place to move you and I was told to stay away. Not to go to the pick-up, but I just had this bad fuckin’ feeling. That’s when I found you and took you away. I guess the rest is history.” 

“Why not tell me before? I mean it’s not like I couldn’t handle the twisted family tree. I was at its roots for heaven’s sakes.” I’m not mad at all, I’m just wondering why.

“I guess by the time you were old enough to know, it didn’t matter anymore. The more I told you, the more you were a target.” He shrugs his shoulders, sags back in the chair and releases a bit of the weight that he’s carried.

“So, now what do we do?” I ask. I guess I’ve always run and now I’m not sure at all what the next step is. 

Both of them look at each other and smile. 

Hazel pipes up first. “Well, Kate died yesterday. So she’s not on the run in Oxford anymore, darlin’.” 

Oh I hear more coming from this. Hazel holds my hand and grins that crazy smile that tells me moonshine is in my near future. “We have to cut you loose. No more WITSEC, no more bodyguards, no more ATF, n’ no more FBI — unless you fuck up that is. You’re a free, reborn, ready to take on the world woman, Georgia Katrina Lusi. What you do with it is up to you.” 

What? I’m — what? 

Carlo rises out of his chair, definitely seeing the confusion on my face, and sits on the side of the bed. “Sweetie, I’m still here anytime you need me. That’s blood and no one is telling me otherwise. But you’re in the clear. You can go anywhere you want, do anything you want, be anyone you want. The papers are being drawn up by the DEA as we speak. IRS will make you go through hoops to prove who you are of course, and Uncle Sam will ask for your vote, but you are in essence Georgia.” 

And that’s when it hit me. I get to be me. I don’t have to hide. I can let people say my name and I don’t have to worry about my father, or my insane uncle finding me. Well, one insane uncle can find me, and I’m cool with that. 

“Ok, so what do I have to do in return? There’s always a pushback. I’m not stupid. What do I have to do CJ?” 

Carlo strokes the back of my hand and speaks authoritatively. “The FBI will ask that you are available for questions anytime in regards to the death of Jackson Capello. If you have to go to trial about it, or any inquiries arise, you’ll show up. No issues, no questions asked.” 

Sweet. “He was a dirty pig. He attacked me and I shot him, nothing more needs to be said. I think I have every right to be allowed to defend myself when he’s about to rape me.” 

“Funny part about that, on the ride back to the hospital, Ryker said you weren’t to blame. He was incoherent about it, but he said it was all his fault and you weren’t the one that took the shot. That true?” 

Fucker is trying to take the hit for me. He’s trying to get sent upstate to cover my ass. No way. Too many people’s lives have been affected by my family, and even if indirectly, he is too. He’s not going to jail for being the good guy. 

“Nope it was all me.” I think quick on my feet about it, concocting a wild story that will seem plausible. 

“Ryker had the gun resting behind his dresser. Jack was too busy strokin’ his own cock to see me grab it. I pulled it away and shot wildly. I just wanted to scare him off. I’m a virgin and a very innocent girl. I didn’t want to have him destroy me for marriage. I wanted to scare him, and by mistake, I shot him in the chest. All very sad really.” I know they don’t believe a fucking word of it, but it doesn’t matter. 

“Is that the official record?” Carlo asks, smiling at me. 

He knows. 

Carol knows. 

“That is the official events. Yes, sir.” I pull up the covers and turn over a bit more. I’m exhausted and the drugs are damn near sending me into a coma as we speak. “If you don’t have any further questions officers, I’m gonna sleep off this opiate.” 

Carlo kisses my forehead and rises off the bed. Lifting the covers across to keep the cool out, he smiles.

“Please, keep me informed about Ryker. I really need to see him and know he’s ok. Can you wake me?” 

“We’ll keep you informed about Ryker’s status after he’s out of surgery. Get some sleep.”

“Thanks, CJ.” I say weakly. I’d like to know more about Ryker right now, and if I had the energy I’d tear off down the halls in search of him or a doctor. But these are really good drugs, and I find myself drifting into dreamland. 

Carol says nothing as she leaves. A light kiss on my head with a pat on the shoulder tells me she’s heading out too. Drifting off, I hear them shut the door and tell the agent posted to let no one in, so I can rest.

I am one lucky person to have people like them caring for me.

Five Years Later

“
O
ver there, please,” I tell the delivery man as he brings in the last of the packages. 

The phone has been ringing off the hook today, and the boys out front could hardly keep up with the influx. I’ve been trying to keep up with the clients as they stop in before the long weekend to grab their finished products. We’ve been gradually increasing our name in the market, and we’re now the second best in the country. Rural Oxford, Miss has become not so rural anymore. 

When I came here to fix my dead and beaten Creature, I had no idea that this would be the last place I’d stay. I dreamed it sure, but I never knew this would be the end of my run. But I’m damn glad it is. 

Oxford was a sleepy college town of twenty thousand back then, but now it’s grown to close to a hundred in just under five years. It’s amazing what fame and money can do to a place. 

The delivery man comes back over to me after laying down the last package and has me sign the waiver. I pull out the pen and scribble my initials. Mine — Georgia Lusi. It still frightens me every so often to see my name on paper, or to hear it said aloud. It took a long while to get over that — but I had help. 

After my dad and uncle were killed, I still had a long road ahead. Dealing with the FBI, the IRS and any and all dimwitted, government, bureaucratic assholes that didn’t understand the whole scenario, or how I just miraculously reappeared after twenty years deceased. 

Oh, the story was convoluted and well-drawn out by the Feds, creating a plausible resurrection, but now a few years later, everything has slowed down. 

Carlo and Carol were very instrumental in getting me off on all charges related to Jackson Capello’s death, and keeping me out of the circumstances surrounding Gianfranco and Mario Lusi. 

Carol went back to ATF with a commendation, a promotion, and a new cushy job at the head office in DC. She still owns the Harvester and pops in every so often for a plate of fries and a grateful shot with the manager on staff Gus. I’ve been invited to it every so often. Damn fucker keeps switching out the bourbon for the peach moonshine he loves so well. 

Gus lost a few pounds, cut the mullet and got his wife that hysterectomy, but it didn’t change the fact that his fries are still famous. He was pressured to add the avocado hash burger to the menu full time by special request, and things are running great there. I don’t get to see him as much as I’d like since he opened another joint over by the Brew last summer. He spends most of his time perfecting new recipes and flavours to try on the masses. 

CJ or Carlo, was given his own field office to run in Georgia. Lately they were tasked with a high profile so n’ so that wanted to visit the war torn areas in Somalia. He’s been gone for a bit, keeping that guy’s ass out of the fire, sort of speak. He visits often, and I’m glad we’ve kept in touch. He really was my only life line for twenty years. I may not have known that he was family, but we have a bond that can never be broken. 

As for that USB. Oh, that’s gone. When I woke up in the hospital, the Feds and ATF were very anxious to get their hands on it. They knew all along about it, so that became the bargaining chip to keep us all out of the slammer. They acted like it was no big deal, and I guess in a way it wasn’t. I never had money, so it wasn’t like it mattered if I had ten million in my account or not. So to keep us all out of shackles, I gave it up and signed an affidavit. I wouldn’t request any of the businesses to be relinquished in the future, and I didn’t get prosecuted.  

Making my way to the back of the shop, the sounds are deafening. The high pitched whines before the turbo dumps, the rattle of the exhaust as it pushes the limits of horsepower, and the sweet smell of pure unfiltered fuel as it coughs out the back dripping onto the cement is pure heaven. If you’d asked me years ago if I thought the sound of a throaty classic muscle car engine would make my knees weak and my insides puddle with joy, I’d tell you that you’d lost your mind. 

Now. 

I’d tell you that the sounds, the smells, and the feel of a fast motor are the biggest turn on of all. 

“How’s it going?” I’m standing beside the lowered machine, resting my arm along the door frame. He shuts down the engine, turns to me and beams that Chesh’ smile that I love so much. 

“It’s good to go. Carlo should be able to take this home in about an hour. I want to clear off the mess first. Did you call him yet?” 

“He was out of state, so what’s the point of bothering him.” We’re both talking about CJ. It’s been a few months, and he promised he’d be here. I know that he’s in charge now, and it’s not so easy to slip away for a few days, but he guaranteed it to someone special. He’ll make it happen. 

“She ready to go too?” 

“Don’t worry about her. I asked Gus and Karen to hold down the hellfire. They’re coming over around seven.” 

“You sure? I mean —” I put a finger to his lips to still him. It still gets a rise out of him every time I do. 

“Yes I’m sure. Now finish this off and let’s get this show on the road.” I kiss him before he steps out of the car and as he reaches out to grope me, I jump back fast, grinning. In the past few years, I’ve gotten good at avoiding his reach. If I don’t — it’s sex in the back seat of a sixty-seven Chevy, or thirty-eight Ford, or my favourite; a seventy Dodge.  

I start back towards the front and shout over my shoulder as he’s standing up out of the car. “Don’t make me tell you to get cleaned up. You are not going, looking like that Ryk.” 

“You like it when I’m sweaty and dirty.” He laughs as he closes the door on the Mustang gently.

“Only when you’re under me, honey. Only when you’re under me.” I wave him off, passing a couple of the guys. 

When everything with the Feds slowed down and things went back to normal — well as normal as things can — Ryker was out of the hospital and recouping back at his place. The shot he took to the chest just missed his heart by a few millimeters, but it severed an artery. It was touch and go for a week, but after he was released, he was totally in my care. I coddled the shit out of him, making him soup — of which I realized I can’t cook either. But I learned that take out from the Harvester worked just fine. Thank God for running tabs.