Authors: Sharon Sala
“What the hell’s going on?” Ike spluttered. “The trial is over.”
“That trial was for the murder of your ex-wife. The federal government wants a piece of your ass, too. Ike Pappas, you are under arrest for the murders of Antonio Melani, Mario Cruz, Harold White, Angus Moran, Wanda Henderson and Thomas Elliot. You are also charged with one hundred and twenty-seven counts of fraud, seven counts of interstate wiretapping, ten counts of forced prostitution, fifteen counts of illegal gambling—”
Ike felt the blood draining out of his head and for a moment thought he would faint. He stumbled, then stopped. “What the fuck’s going on here?”
The agents yanked him off balance, forcing him to keep walking as they continued to rattle off the charges against him, but he wouldn’t listen.
“You’re crazy. I don’t know what you’re talking about, and you can’t prove any—”
He caught movement from the corner of his eye and turned in time to see his son step out into the hall. He hadn’t seen him in weeks, and he didn’t immediately tie his unexpected presence to what was happening.
“Adam! Did they arrest you, too?”
“No. I won’t be arrested. That was part of the deal.”
Ike frowned. “I don’t get it. Part of what—” Then he froze. “You turned me in?”
Adam shrugged. “Just finishing what my mother started.”
Ike struggled to draw breath. “The syndicate will kill you, you know.”
“No. In fact, we’ve already had that conversation. Truth is, they’re more pissed at you than they are at me. I’d watch my back in prison if I were you.”
It was the disdain in Adam’s voice that yanked Ike out of his state of shock.
“I don’t fucking believe you!” he screamed.
Adam’s voice rose louder and higher. “Then believe this, you sorry son of a bitch! You better say your prayers and make nice with God…if you still believe in Him, that is.”
Ike felt as if his head was going to explode. He wanted to squeeze Adam’s neck until his eyes bugged out and his breath stopped.
“You can’t prove anything. They won’t believe you. They’ll think you’re just lying to get back at me for Lorena’s death.”
“No, they’ll believe me, Daddy. In fact, they already do. I gave them hard evidence. Lots of it. It was all over the place in your little secret room down in the basement. The extra sets of books, the records of hits with dates and times and why they happened, the garbage bags with all that damning DNA. All I did was gather it up. I handed it over this morning, along with information as to how to get the rest of it, since I couldn’t carry it all. I just took the best to get things started.”
Ike lunged at Adam, but the agents’ grips were firm. He was yanked back so hard he practically got whiplash.
“Goddamn you!” Ike yelled, as they began leading him away. “You’re a traitor. A turncoat. All you worked for, and you tossed it away as if it was nothing! You don’t deserve to draw another breath. I gave you everything, and this is how you repay me? You go to hell!”
Adam followed as the agents dragged Ike toward the elevator.
“I don’t want a life doing what you did. I regret I even share your DNA. But I
will
draw breath. I am going to live for a long, long time and do everything I can to live my life completely opposite to the way I was raised. You’re the one going to hell, Daddy, and the Devil already knows you’re on your way.”
By then they had reached the elevator, and Adam watched as the doors opened and the agents pulled his father inside.
Ike turned, staring at Adam with a malevolent intensity.
Adam looked back as calmly as if he were eyeing a bug on the wall.
The doors slid shut, and just like that, Ike Pappas was no longer a part of his life.
Adam walked away. His debt to his mother had been paid.
The sun was shining when Will Venable headed up Rebel Ridge. The limbs on the trees shading both sides of the road seemed to be reaching out to each other, sheltering their passing.
Quinn was sitting in the seat beside him—more legroom up front for his wounded leg.
“It is good to be home,” he said, and caught a glimpse of a raccoon just before it waddled off into the underbrush.
“I hear you,” Will said, but his mind was already on the trip he would start tonight.
He had to be in Birmingham by morning. He’d done longer trips in shorter time. It would be a piece of cake.
Ryal was in the back with Beth, who’d stretched out on the seat and fallen asleep with her head in his lap. The past weeks had been rough, but he would do it all again just to have Beth back in his life where she belonged.
The car hit a bump just hard enough to rouse Beth from her sleep.
“What happened?” she said, as she pushed herself up.
“Your uncle can’t drive,” Ryal drawled.
Will cursed.
Beth laughed.
Even Quinn managed to crack a smile.
“Sorry-ass roads,” Will muttered. “Don’t they ever patch the damn blacktop?”
No one answered; it was understood that the question was rhetorical. Nothing got patched on Rebel Ridge except the occasional heart.
“I am sleeping in my own bed tonight,” Quinn announced. He didn’t want to fight with Beth, but he’d had all the fussing he could handle.
“I’ll be on the road,” Will said.
“I’ll be in my own bed tonight, too,” Ryal said.
“And I’ll be with you,” Beth said, poking Ryal in the ribs and making him smile.
“I notice neither one of you mentioned sleep,” Quinn drawled.
Laughter ensued.
Much later, after Will was gone and they’d delivered Quinn to his home, and Ryal and Beth were finishing their supper dishes, Ryal’s cell phone rang.
“Would you get that, Beth? My hands are still soapy,” he said.
She nodded and picked it up, noticing it was her grandmother.
“Hello, Granny Lou.”
“Hello, Lilabeth. I was just making sure you’re settling in all right. Will left here around three o’clock, and I’ve been busy washing up his bedclothes and such.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m doing fine. I was sure glad Uncle Will was with us in L.A. I know you’re sorry to have him gone so much.”
“It’s all right. Will always did have a Gypsy foot. He wouldn’t be happy up here like the rest of us.”
“Yes, I know that’s so.”
Lou paused, then blurted out the fear that was on her mind.
“You’re happy here, too, aren’t you, girl? I mean, you don’t have any plans to go back to California or anything like that?”
Beth turned to look at her gorgeous man with his hands in the dishwater.
“No, ma’am. I don’t intend to go back to California or anywhere else unless Ryal Walker is going, too.”
Lou smiled. “Well, I didn’t mean to be nosy, but I’m glad to hear that. So, now that’s settled, have you two set a date for your marryin’? You
are
gettin’ married, right?”
Beth grinned. “Yes, ma’am. We’re getting married, but we haven’t set a date as yet.”
“Good. I wouldn’t like it known that one of my grandchildren was livin’ in sin, especially since she’s plannin’ on having babies.”
“Oh, we’re having babies?” Beth said.
Ryal turned around, and the look on his face was priceless. He turned pink; then he rolled his eyes and threw soapsuds in her direction.
“Yes, Ryal promised me you were trying.”
Beth laughed out loud. “He promised we were trying? Really?”
“Tell your granny good-night,” Ryal said.
Beth was still grinning. “Granny, Ryal says to tell you good-night, so I guess we’re going to bed soon and make you that baby you’re wanting to play with.”
“Oh, my God,” Ryal muttered.
Lou laughed in satisfaction. “That’s all I wanted to know. See you soon, Bethie.”
“Okay, Granny Lou. I love you.”
The line went dead in her ear.
She laid down the phone, then folded her hands in front of her like a little girl who was about to recite her memory verse for church and waited for his reaction.
Ryal growled beneath his breath. “How do you suppose I’m supposed to get all interested in making love now, when you and Granny Lou have been talking about this as if it was a recipe you were trying to get right?”
Beth pulled her T-shirt over her head and undid her bra. Her breasts rested heavy against her body as she waited for his reaction.
She didn’t have long to wait.
“That’ll work,” Ryal said, and swooped her off her feet and into his arms.
He carried her back to the bedroom and then proceeded to strip her naked before he undressed himself. Then he crawled into bed, parted her legs and settled into the valley between them with the head of his erection almost there—but not quite.
“So, if we’re making a baby tonight, are we making a boy, or are we making a girl?”
Beth frowned. “You can’t make that choice. You have to take what God gives you and be happy.”
Ryal leaned down and brushed her lips with a kiss.
“I knew that. I was making sure you did, too.”
“So what are you waiting for?” Beth whispered.
“A sign from God,” Ryal said, and then all of a sudden he was inside her, but still he stayed motionless.
Beth moaned. He was hard and pulsing, and she wanted him to move, but he’d pinned her so hard against the bed she couldn’t move for him.
“Ryal…”
“What, honey? Is there something I can do for you?”
Beth groaned and then wrapped her legs around his waist the minute he shifted his weight enough to free her.
“Ryal!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you,” he said, and then took one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked until it was a hard, achy peak.
“Oh, my Lord.” Beth sighed. “Read my mind, you fool, before we both die of want.”
Ryal laughed, but the dance had begun, which meant he’d definitely read her mind.