The Long Road Home [The Final McCassey Brothers Book] (30 page)

Wade never got to finish his sentence, because Georgia's mouth was suddenly on top of his. She was pressing up against him; the heat and sparks being created by their two bodies driving him crazy.

They kissed until Wade felt himself getting worked up to the point that he needed to do more than just kiss her. He reached up and placed his hands on her shoulders to make sure she'd stay where she was, and reluctantly, he pulled away. “This can't happen, Georgia. It can't. It's not right."

Thankfully, she backed off ... sort of. Even though the room was almost completely dark and he couldn't see her, he could still feel her. She was no more than a foot away—ten feet too close for his brain to be able to think logically.

"Why not?” she demanded. “What's not right about it?"

What wasn't right about it? He loved her and she obviously had feelings for him. They could be good together; despite their age difference and troubled pasts, he knew they could. “There are issues you have to deal with before beginning a relationship, Georgia. Issues with your brothers. They're your family, and family comes before anyone or anything."

"But you're family,” she argued.

Wade took advantage of the fact that she seemed to be getting angry, and sat up. He scooted as far from her as he could without making it obvious that he was trying to put distance between them. “I'm Blackie, Judd, and Rebel's family. You and I aren't blood related. They love you, too, and you need to make things right with them."

"But—"

"You have to, Georgia, please. Call them, talk to them, work things out. They haven't heard from you in almost ten days and you know they're probably worried sick."

"But they haven't even been looking for me, Wade."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do,” she argued, “don't you think that they would've at least called you to ask if you'd seen me?"

"I thought they would've,” he admitted. “But maybe each one of them is just as stubborn as you are. Maybe they're sitting around the kitchen table at Rebel's house kicking themselves for not searching for you, wishing to hell that they knew where you were."

"And what if they haven't?” she asked sadly. “What if I call over there and whoever answers hangs up on me?"

It was a possibility, Wade thought, but he knew that would never happen. “Then at least you'll know where they stand, and you can move on with the rest of your life. But if you don't get in touch with them, if you don't at least try to make contact, you'll never know how they feel. You'll never know what you could've had.

"After my mom threw me out, I never once tried to talk to her, Georgia. But that didn't mean I didn't want to. I was just too damn stubborn. She's gone now, and so is any chance I ever had at having a family. Don't make the same mistake I did."

Georgia remained silent, and Wade felt her move even farther away from him. Hoping she was quiet because she was considering what he'd said, he relaxed and lay down again, giving her the time she needed to work things out in her mind.

They were silent for a long time. Finally, he felt the mattress move as she got out of bed. “Where are my clothes?” she wanted to know.

Clothes?
“What clothes?"

"The ones I came here in,” she said impatiently. “Where are they?"

Wade sat up and turned on the small lamp sitting on the table next to the bed. “Over there,” he pointed, “on the chair."

She grabbed them, walked into the bathroom, and slammed the door.

Ten minutes later, Georgia emerged dressed in the blue jeans and white sleeveless shirt he'd found her in; both splattered with the blood of the man that Wade had beaten. Cursing himself for not getting rid of them when he'd had the chance; he squinted at her and questioned, “Why are you wearing those?"

"Because, I'm going home.” She closed the bathroom door behind her and came back to sit on the edge of the bed.

"You're right, Wade, I need to talk to Blackie, Judd, and Rebel. I love you, too,” she said matter-of-factly, causing him to feel—of all things—relieved. “Other than loving my brothers, I don't have any experience where men and love are concerned. I'm not even sure what it really means, except for the fact that I love you in a completely different way than I do them, and know that I want you in my life.

"But I can't do anything about my feelings until I know how the guys feel. I have to know if they still care about me."

Although he was happy she was willing to take his advice, he hadn't been expecting her to do it immediately. “Georgia, its ten o'clock at night."

"Yeah,” she agreed, “but it's also Saturday night, Wade. You know as well as I do that they're awake. And if they're so distraught about not knowing where I am, then they probably
are
sitting around Rebel's kitchen table talking about me."

Wade got out of bed, reached for his T-shirt, and put it on. Then he picked up his boots and put them on, too. “So what the hell are you going to do, just walk up the sidewalk and bang on the front door?"

"Well,” she said sarcastically, “if I try to climb in the window, one of them will probably think I'm a burglar and shoot me. So yeah, I'm going to pound on the front door until someone answers it."

No, no, not a good idea.
“Georgia—"

"Don't try to talk me out of it, Wade,” she said, bending down to tie her tennis shoe, “because you can't. Like you said, I have to do this."

"I said you had to do it, Georgia, but I was thinking more along the lines of a mid-day phone call and maybe meeting them for lunch. Surprising them in the middle of the night isn't a good idea."

She crossed the room and, standing on her tiptoes, stopped in front of him and looked up. Wade bent down and kissed her hard on the lips.

When he broke the kiss, she backed away. “Ten o'clock is not the middle of the night. I have to do this now, Wade, it can't wait."

Crazy, she was absolutely crazy.

He reached for his keys and plucked them off the table. “Well, come on then, let's go."

"No."

"No? You changed your mind already?"

"No, I don't want you to drive me. I have to do this—all of this—on my own."

"Georgia, it's late, it's dark, and Rebel lives a good three miles from here. I'm not letting you walk over there by yourself."

She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and squeezed, then quickly kissed his chest through his shirt. “Sorry, Wade,” she said on her way to the front door, “you don't have a choice."

"Georgia!” he hollered as she was about to leave.

Surprised by the terrifying command in his voice, Georgia froze, then turned around slowly. “What?"

"Are you really going to do this? It can't wait until morning?"

"I'm doing it now, Wade. I'm doing it before I lose my nerve."

She stood still as he turned his back on her and walked to his dresser. Thinking he was trying to stall her, she was just about to leave when he turned back around; her eyes widening when she saw him loading a massive handgun.

"Then take this with you.” He shoved the gun at her, but she backed away.

"A gun?"

He took a step closer, and again, she backed away. “Dammit, Georgia, take it. Just in case."

Where was all this coming from? Between the weeks Wade had spent with her at the garage, and the ten days they'd just spent together in his apartment, they'd talked about everything under the sun. She felt like they knew each other inside and out, which was why his sudden penchant for violence shocked her.

Except the beating she'd witnessed him give the drug dealer, Wade's normally laid back, easy going personality had given away nothing about the fact that he was apparently no different from the wild, untamed men her brothers were. It didn't bother her because she was used to being around macho men. It just surprised her.

"Just in case of what, Wade? That's a big gun. I'm only walking three miles. I'll be there in less than an hour."

"Take the gun, Georgia."

"No, Wade! Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want you to be safe, goddammit!” he yelled impatiently. “I want to make damn sure that if Blackie goes after you again, you'll be able to defend yourself this time! Now take the gun, or not only am I'm driving you to Rebel's, but I'm going inside with you. Then you can just try to have a private conversation with me standing six inches behind you."

Well, that was certainly a change from the attitude he'd had the day he refused to stay with her when she met her sisters-in-law.

Still, she shook her head adamantly. “No, Wade. Blackie wouldn't hurt me with everyone else there."

"Bullshit!” His voice was so loud and authoritative that she actually took a step back. “Judd and Rebel were standing right there when he hit you last time. It's a very real possibility that he'll do it again."

She hadn't thought of that ... probably because she was too busy trying to get over the shock of him suddenly being so overprotective. Still, she didn't want to take it. “I don't want the gun, Wade. I don't even know how to shoot one."

He looked extremely skeptical. “Your brothers are three of the best shots in Washington County, Georgia. Are you telling me that not one of them has shown you how to fire a gun?"

She had to admit, that
was
kind of strange. With the exception of Gypsy, every McCassey she knew owned several guns and was a crack shot. Even her nephew, Jay. Why hadn't anyone shown her how to fire a gun? “Nope."

He sighed out of what she knew was frustration. “All right, watch closely,” he told her, then proceeded to give her a two-minute crash course in how to use the weapon.

When they were finished, he shoved it at her. “Here. Put it in the waistband of your jeans."

"I can't, Wade; I don't even know if I could hit anything if I tried. It's dark, and my aim might be really bad."

"You don't have to hit anything, Georgia. Just fire the damn thing. It's a .357 Magnum. It'll knock you on your ass for sure, but it's so damn loud that as long as you're within half a mile of civilization, someone will come running."

Oh, man.
“I—"

Wade said nothing. He simply stared at her until she reached out and took the weapon from his hand.

After helping her secure it in her waistband, he walked to the door. Georgia thought for sure that he was going to give her another lecture, or maybe some instructions. Instead, he took a step forward, backed her against the door, and leaned down.

Georgia stared up at Wade until he tilted his head and his mouth made contact with hers. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her lips parted at the slight urging of his tongue.

Lost in the moment, she felt a surge of excitement rush through her when Wade intensified their kiss. She leaned into him then, wrapping her arms around his waist and matching his intensity. When a red flag went up in her mind, reminding her that she was having physical contact with a man, she pushed it away immediately.

She'd wanted this kiss, and hadn't been afraid of Wade's touch because it had done nothing to hurt her.

He made her feel safe. He made her feel good.

And she never wanted it to end.

Seconds later, he broke the kiss. Breathlessly, he backed away and ran a hand through his light hair. “If I don't let you leave now, I never will."

Georgia nodded her understanding. Suddenly, she wasn't so ready to leave.

When Wade wrapped his hand around the knob and opened the door, she hesitated, reaching up and touching her lips, which felt tingly and alive for the first time in her life.

"Be careful,” Wade told her, obviously letting her know that it was okay to go.

Taking the opportunity to leave, Georgia forced herself to walk through the doorway. At that moment, she wished that she'd never brought up going to Rebel's house tonight.

But she had to. She had to get it over with. Maybe her brothers missed her and maybe they didn't. But she'd never know if she didn't ask.

She walked further into the hallway, not turning around again until she heard the click of the lock on Wade's front door.

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Georgia stood still and took several deep breaths, hoping Wade wasn't going to change his mind and come after her. When a good minute had passed with no sign of him opening the door again, she finally gave in to her nerves and tossed her cookies into the fake green bush outside his door.

"Buy Wade a new bush,” she said, making a mental note as she took a few seconds to compose herself before starting down the hall.

Already thinking of what she was going to say to her brothers, Georgia was suddenly distracted by a folded piece of paper lying on the floor. Bending down to pick it up, she was surprised to see that the letterhead said McCassey's Garage.

Curious, she unfolded the note and read the message. It was from Judd.

Wade—

Today is Wednesday, March eighteenth. Rebel and I stopped by to see if you've seen Georgia. She and Blackie had a fight and he threw her out. Blackie's gone, too. He took off right after she did.

Blackie will be back when he cools off, but we can't find Georgia anywhere. She's probably just as mad at Reb and me as she is at Blackie; we didn't do a damn thing to defend her, even though she begged for our help.

If you see her, it would mean a lot to us if you could tell her we're sorry. Maybe you could call and let us know she's okay, too. We want her to come home.

Judd

Georgia's heart swelled. Her brothers really did care, and they
had
been looking for her!

Well, at least two of them had.

She was so happy that she felt like crying. Instead, she shoved the note into her front pocket and started running—as much as the massive gun tucked into her pants would allow—toward Rebel's house.

Five minutes later, she was so winded she had to stop and rest. As she tried to catch her breath, she remembered what else the note had said. Blackie was gone. He'd taken off just after she had.

What if he was still gone?

What if he never came back?

What if Angel blamed her? The fight was, in reality, half her fault. She never should've slapped Blackie. If she hadn't gone after him, he still might've yelled and screamed at her, but he wouldn't have hit her. And, Georgia knew, that was probably why he'd taken off. He was probably angry with himself for what he'd done.