Love Slave for Two: Reckoning [Love Slave for Two 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (4 page)

“Did you talk to John and Kelly today?”

“Yeah, called them on the way home. They’re coming over tomorrow morning. I made Pete and Eddie promise to come over and stay with us, too. They don’t have an emergency genny, and some of Pete’s meds have to stay cold. I already checked our whole-house genny. The propane tank is full. Test started it this morning. We’re good to go.”

In shock, Tyler stared at the television screen.

Tom walked over to Tyler and put his hands on his shoulders. “I need you here, focused, on this. Nevvie and the kids are safe.”

“What if it crosses the state and hits them? Goes up to the northeast like Charley did?”

“Oh, they’ll definitely get some of it if the track holds. It’s too damn big for them not to. But it won’t be a monster like it is now, and the eye will cross way south of them. They won’t get the high winds, just a lot of rain. They’ll be fine.”

He gently shook Tyler. “There’s a good chance John and Kelly won’t have a house to go back to if the storm surge hits like projected. They’re less than a mile from the bay, even though they’re inland. Their subdivision is older and it has a lot of drainage problems. I’ve built houses over there. Plus I looked over their house this morning with John. It’s an older house. They have a gable roof and no hurricane straps. That means it’s going to fail if the winds are over Cat 2 when it hits, which they probably will be.”

He squeezed Tyler’s shoulders. “Buddy, I’m counting on you. I need you to go out and gas up the cars for me. I also bought extra gas cans. Start with my truck and the extra gas cans. I would have done it, but my leg is killing me and I needed to get home. And I have to call Kenny and talk to him about shutting down the office.”

“All right. What about propane for the grill?”

“Done. Didn’t you see me unload those two small bottles?”

“Oh. Right.” Tyler felt stunned. This was really happening. Tom was no worrier. He only prepared if he thought there was a serious reason to prepare.

Tom palmed Tyler’s cheek. “It’s okay,” he said. “I promise, we’ll be fine. Nevvie and the kids are going to be just fine. This house can easily withstand a Cat 4. We have food and water and everything we’ll need. Remember all the stuff you tuned out when we planned the house about the reinforced roof and hurricane ties?” He smiled. “Remember how you waved your hand and told me to handle it and do whatever I thought was best?”

Tyler nodded.

“We’re as safe here as we would be in any shelter. The shutters are up, we’ll get everything picked up outside and moved in, and we’ll be buttoned up in here.” He pulled Tyler to him for a hug. “They’re predicting the outer bands will make landfall tomorrow night, with the eye hitting sometime Friday afternoon. So let’s get this done so we can have time to relax after dinner.”

* * * *

Alex LaRogue stood in line at the bus stop to board a county transit bus. The marquee on the front of the bus read
H’CAINE SHELTER
. No fare needed, he shuffled down to a seat as far back as he could get. The night before, he’d found a homeless camp to sleep at. Even better, after getting another man drunk from the cheap bottle of whiskey he’d shoplifted, he’d stolen the man’s ID right out of his wallet, along with the fifteen dollars he’d had on him. They looked enough alike.

Unless they fingerprinted him, Alex knew he could now reasonably pass as Eric Johnson, who was eight years older than him. That didn’t matter. Their eyes and hair color were close, as were their height and build. And since Alex hadn’t shaved in a while, his beard and mustache, peppered with gray, helped complete the deception.

As long as he didn’t attract any attention to himself, no one would likely question him about it.

He found welcomed chaos at the hurricane shelter set up at a high school where the Red Cross had opened an emergency shelter. He stepped off the bus and was directed to a registration line snaking around the cafeteria.

From the harried faces of the obviously overwhelmed volunteers, no one would take a second look at his stolen ID.

A volunteer walked down the line with a bullhorn in her hand. “We are looking for any volunteers willing to be bused to a regional shelter in Orlando. Our shelter space here is extremely limited. You will be provided with free transportation back to Tampa after the storm has passed. Do we have any volunteers who want…”

His gaze narrowed.
Isn’t this just my lucky day?
He patted his shirt, where he kept the address book he’d stolen from Nevaeh’s house tucked into his undershirt. Come hell or high water, he wouldn’t lose it.

It was his key to finding that bitch and getting even with her once and for all. It would have been nice killing those fag boys of hers when he stole the address book, but he wasn’t an idiot. It’d been sheer luck he’d been able to sneak into the house while the men were around back putting up hurricane shutters. And they had at least two other men helping them. He would have been outnumbered. But the gas receipts on the kitchen counter, and overheard snippets of their conversation, pointed to Nevaeh and her brats being in Savannah.

Now he just had to go through the contacts in the address book, one by one, to find her. It looked like several of that Kinsey guy’s family was in Savannah, and that’s where he’d start.

No one makes a fool out of Alex LaRogue. That cunt’s gonna wish she’d never met them two fag boys. She’s damn sure gonna wish she’d never pissed me off when her day of reckoning comes.

He stepped forward. “I’ll go.”

“Great.” The volunteer directed him, as well as several others who stepped out of the registration line, over to a far shorter line queuing in front of several tour buses.

Alex couldn’t help but smile. It would be easy to hitchhike a ride northbound to Savannah from Orlando.

As they did nearly every Wednesday night, Tom’s twin niece and nephew, Danny and Elle, and their dad, Clay, came over for dinner at Peggy’s. It had quickly become a new tradition for the three of them since Clay’s divorce from Emily. And sometimes, as she did tonight, Karen joined them as well.

They were happy to hear Nevvie’s news about her twins. After dinner, Laurie volunteered to get the boys bathed and ready for bed for Nevvie. The rest of them sat around the kitchen table after the dishes were done and put away.

“Grandma,” Elle started, “can we ask a favor?”

Peggy smiled. “How much, sugar?”

Danny grimly smiled. “No, Grandma. Mom’s selling the house. We don’t have enough room at our place for our stuff. She told us if we don’t have it all out by Friday night, she’ll throw it out. She’s having an open house on Sunday. Can we borrow space in the storage shed for a couple of months? Once we sort through everything, what we want to keep we’ll take to a storage unit.”

After Clay and Em’s divorce, the three of them had banded together and gotten an apartment close to town. Danny and Elle were in their last semester of college.

“Sure, sugar. Of course y’all can.” She tilted her head. “Clay, you all right?”

He let out a sigh. “Yeah, just another one of those things.”

Elle frowned. “Don’t you even think about feeling sorry for her, Dad. I can’t believe you put up with her as long as you did. She treated you like crap.”

“Danielle,” Peggy admonished, “you watch your mouth, young lady.”

“I’m sorry, Grandma, but you don’t know what she was like at home.” She looked at her brother, who nodded. “She expected total perfection out of us, like if we screwed up or got a bad grade, it made
her
look bad. I love Mom, but I’m not ashamed to admit I can’t stand being around her. Even before everything happened, I told her I thought it would be a good idea if we all go to family counseling.”

“How’d that go over?” Peggy asked.

“It didn’t. She started yelling at me that there was nothing wrong with her, that the three of us were ‘godless heathens.’” She used air quotes around the phrase. “She’s gone around the bend.”

Clay reached over and patted his daughter’s hand. “She’s your mother,” he quietly said. “I know she’s not the easiest person to get along with, but she does love you. You need to respect her.”

That’s when Danny let out a snort. “That’s a laugh. She never respected you. Or us. Elle’s right. She’s nuts.”

“Why’s she selling the house?” Nevvie asked.

Clay didn’t answer. Danny answered for him. “She’s moving into an apartment close to her church. She wants to donate the money from the sale to them. I’m telling you, she’s whacked. Last time she told me she wanted me to go to church with her and I said no, she treated me like I’d taken a dump on a Bible or something.”

Karen let out a laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like your mom.”

“Clay, why didn’t you tell us all of this years ago?” Peggy gently asked. “That things were getting so bad with her?”

He shrugged. “I loved her. No, she wasn’t the easiest woman to live with, but she had a good heart and meant well. Most of the time.” He shook his head. “It was a year or so before…the incident, when things really got bad.”

Nevvie didn’t need clarification. She knew he meant when Emily tried to get Adam taken away from them by the state of Florida.

“That’s when she turned into a different person,” he said. “And that all happened after she started going to that new church. Suddenly, she was all…churchy. I never had a problem living with her before that, but it’s like she suddenly took off on this wild tangent. It consumed her life. She just about gave up all of her old friends and hung out only with people from church. She was there nearly every night for service or classes or prayer sessions or whatever. Then, when she pulled that stunt, I gave her an ultimatum. That either she quit that church and apologize to everyone in this family for what she did, or I was gone.”

When he didn’t continue, Elle did. “She told him he’d burn in hell, along with everyone else,” she softly said. “I’m telling you, she’s nuts. I thought I’d try to get her to see sense and let her take me to one of her church meetings to get in her good graces. It was all that hatemongering stuff, and the preacher screaming that ‘God’s gonna strike ’em down,’ and whacked-out stuff like that. No one in Grandma’s church ever acts like that. It was just spooky.”

“That’s us Methodists,” Peggy said in an attempt to lighten the mood. “We don’t care if your sheep are white or black or polka-dotted, they’re all welcome.”

“I guess me getting into it with her in the frozen food aisle at Publix that day didn’t help anything,” Nevvie muttered.

“She’s not used to people standing up to her,” Clay said. “I let her roll over me for a lot of years before I grew a spine.”

“So it’s a badge of honor?” Andrew quipped.

“Sure,” Clay said with a wry smile. “Call it that.”

“What is the surprise you made me wait until after dinner for, Mom?” Nevvie asked, wanting to change the direction of the conversation. She did her best not to think about Emily and her betrayal of them. She certainly didn’t want to spend the evening talking about her.

Peggy smiled. “I was going to make you wait until the boys were in bed, but I’ll get it. You wait right here.” She got up from the table and left the kitchen.

Karen wore a sneaky grin. “Come on,” Nevvie said. “Tell me.”

“Uh-uh. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Peggy returned a few minutes later carrying what looked like a rifle case, as well as a medium-sized canvas bag. She set them on the table. “These were Adam’s,” she said with a melancholy expression and wistful tone. “The girls never had an interest in doing it, and I told Tommy I’d keep the stuff for him in case he ever wanted it. I’m not sure he even remembers it’s here. I’ve got two more shotguns in the gun safe in my closet. I think it’s only right as Tommy’s wife that you have them. Adam would want someone to use them. This is the best one of the three. It was his favorite. But I want you to have all three of them.”

Nevvie stood and unzipped the case. Inside lay a shotgun. She was afraid to touch it, but Peggy picked it up, showed her how to break it open, and handed it to her. “Those are snap caps inside,” she explained as she pointed to two red things resembling shotgun shells in the barrels. She closed the gun and pointed it up toward the ceiling, then pulled the trigger twice. Nevvie heard a distinct
click-click
.

“You can dry-fire it with those in.” She handed it back to Nevvie. “I wasn’t much into skeet, but Adam taught me how when we first got married. I found I liked trap better. I haven’t been shooting in decades, though. Since before Tommy was born. That’s a Browning 12-gauge over-under. Nice gun. It’s set up for skeet. Ported barrel, skeet chokes, adjustable comb and stock, everything.” She smiled. “John will likely be a little jealous when you show him that.”

Nevvie tentatively hefted the gun. “I’ve never shot a gun in my life. Not unless you count water pistols or Wii game controllers.”

Peggy laughed as she showed her how to shoulder it. “Sorry, sugar. Those don’t count. I’d be happy to go with you and John to the skeet range, if it’d make you feel more comfortable. I’m pretty rusty, but…”

“Thanks, Mom.” She put the gun back in the case and hugged her. “I really appreciate it. That would be fun. What’s in the bag?”